As Diana approached a thick copse of trees, she could see the swirls of gray smoke that billowed above the tree line, an indication her sister was already in the tiny cottage preparing their dinner. She was late. Again. Hopes of a quiet evening, so she could examine the Tir Nam Famhair closer would be non-existent when Delilah began one of her tongue lashings about not doing her fair share of the chores.
Once she broke through the dense woods, she stopped and stared at the humble shelter they shared since birth. A curlew flew overhead and let out a cry before disappearing into the surrounding trees. A slight breeze caught at her skirts, twisting the hem about her ankles. She released herself and continued on toward home. There was no sense for her to prolong the inevitable. Diana walked along the worn trail that would lead to the front door. The smell of roasted venison wafted through the small, single window in the main room. The nights were a bit warmer, and Delilah left it ajar to release some of the cook fires stifling heat. The rich aroma caused her stomach to grumble, and realized she had not eaten the entire day. She could not remember the last time they had such a tantalizing treat. Where would Delilah have come by such game?
Lifting the latch, Diana walked into the two-room cottage. She breathed a sigh of relief when she did not see Delilah, but knew her sister would not be gone long when she saw the iron pot that bubbled over the open fire across the room. It was quite warm, so she unlaced her cloak and hung it on one of the wooden pegs on the wall behind the door. Several scents tickled her nose, from the herbs and plants that dried overhead on the rafters. Some were used for cooking, others for healing. Now, it was the strong smell of fresh rosemary that consumed the small room, along with the venison stew awaiting.
Though their home boasted only two rooms, it proved treacherous to maneuver herself toward the hearth with only a fire illuminating the way. In the second room was their small bedchamber, but Delilah, as well as their mother and grandmother before them, dedicated the area in the midst of the main room for scrying with the rune stones. In an attempt to walk around the sacred spot, Diana’s foot caught on the corner of the large trunk that held Delilah’s healer supplies.
“Oww!” She hopped about on one foot and she rubbed her big toe. Once the pain was no more than a throb, she limped the rest of the way. Diana grabbed a candle from the large wooden cabinet that held their kitchen supplies. She lit the candle and grabbed the dingy cloth to protect her hand from the hot handle on the lid. The pain in her toe was dull in comparison to the ache in her stomach. Steam rose when she removed the cover from the heavy cauldron and let the aroma of the simmering stew escape into the air. Her stomached protested its hunger. She moistened her lips in anticipation, and did not hesitate to serve herself the hearty meal.
“Where have ye been, Diana?”
Delilah’s voice broke through the silence and startled Diana as she ladled her dinner into a bread trencher. The ladle slipped from her hands, and hit the hard-packed dirt floor as she screeched.
“Aaaiiiyyaahh!”
Delilah’s uncanny ability to come upon people without being heard was a true talent. One that annoyed Diana to no end.
When she caught her breath, Diana bent over and picked up the ladle. “See what ye have done? I have gone and wasted a spoon full of stew…and ye know venison is my favorite.” Not hiding her disgruntlement.
Her sister ignored her annoyance and asked again. “I asked ye where ye have been, Diana.”
Instead of answering Delilah, she placed the half trencher of stew on the rickety wooden table pushed up against the cottage wall. All the while, she could feel the weight of Delilah’s stare boring into her back. “Where did ye get the venison? Do not tell me ye went a hunting?” Diana gave a low chuckle, as she envisioned her dainty sister traipsing through the woods like some rabid hunter. Nay, not Delilah. She would never dirty her hands with such a task.
Diana rose and walked past her grim-faced sister. She placed silently placed the dirtied ladle into the bucket by the front door of the cottage for washing. Since she was absent most of the afternoon, Diana was sure her sister would set her to the filthy task.
Most people assumed she and Delilah were identical twins, but they were not. They shared the same brilliant blue eyes, as bright as a rare blue moon, and the same fiery red locks, but Delilah’s hair was as smooth as the loch on a calm day. Diana’s hair was a disarray of curls, and as wild as her imagination. The very same imagination that tempted Diana into seeking mischief as a child ran over into adulthood. However, the stakes were higher, as was the punishment if caught.
Just as she sat back at the tiny table to devour her meal Delilah stated, “The laird was here earlier.”
Her heart began an erratic pace when her sister made mention of Ian. Was it possible she finally caught the braw laird’s eye? Even the good Lord knew how she deliberately played the beguiling maid for his benefit alone. Though she had never been able to get the blasted man to lie with her, it is what she desired most. “Ian? Was he…did he…what I mean is…was it me he sought?” Diana brought a hand to her chest in feigned shock.
Again, Delilah stood silent, but thought she detected a slight twitch from the corner of her sister’s eye each time she used Ian’s first name and not his title. Several seconds past, as there was an awkward silence between the two sisters. She was in no mood to play guessing games with her sister.
Steam rose from the stew-filled trencher, and she stirred and blew in unison to cool the contents. “Now, ye have nothing to say? It makes no difference to me, whether ye tell me or not. Did Ian find what he was looking for?” However, inside she fluttered with excitement, but she continued to feign disinterest in her sister’s lecture. Again with the twitching, Delilah? She laughed within at how easy it was to annoy her sister.
With her hands still upon her tiny hips, Delilah took three swift steps to reach the table where she sat and gave a heartless reply. “Nay, he did not and I assure you…he did not come to find the likes of ye.”
Diana knew something was not right. It was not in her sister’s nature to be so curt or hurtful with anyone, especially her own sister. Diana’s hand halted a heartbeat, but she proceeded to place the stew in her mouth and swallow. “So that’s where ye got the venison. Ian.”
Delilah did not answer her, but proceeded to vex her with questions. “Do ye not wonder why Ian came to the cottage…our cottage, Diana?”
Diana remained silent, but could feel Delilah’s eyes bore into the side of her head, as she grew impatient.
“The Tir Nam Famhair…it is gone.” Delilah hung her head.
Diana’s heart dropped at the mention of the book, but she continued to eat even though the stew no longer held the appeal as when she first walked in, but she refused to let her sister know. “I have not the faintest clue what ye speak of Di…”
“Cease! When ye disappeared without even breaking your fast I followed ye. I saw…and heard ye speaking with the likes of Damon Campbell. Not far from the standing stones.” When Diana interrupted, she received a glower from her sister that would have silenced a newborn lamb. “I overhead ye mention Moy’s deed, Diana. Yet ye sit here and continue to speak false. I know not what game ye play or what ye think to do with the Tir Nam Famhair, but ye know as well as I, the magic can only be beckoned by a MacLaine or…The Guardian. I arrived home not long ago and cast the runes.”
Diana did not deny it this time. It would be futile, and Delilah would not quit until she said her peace.
“The runes showed me your treacherous ways sister, but ye canno’ destroy the Tir Nam Famhair. The one with the purest heart can destroy the tome. No other. Yer heart is as blackened as soot from a forger’s chimney.”
Diana rolled her eyes at her sister’s dramatic revelation, and casually leaned back against the thatch wall and motioned for her sister to continue. She was not like the other Fae in her family line. If they wanted to be lead around by little fairies in the glen and dictated to by the powers that be within the Fae�
��let them. That was not for her.
“Ye can not possibly believe all that gibberish about The Guardian, Delilah. Tis just the tale of two old people, to scare the bairns. Meaning us.” She pointed a finger between the two of them. “Besides, the story was quite vague. Even if it were true, which it is not, how would we even know?”
“Aye, I do. We shall know the prophecy of the Guardian has been full-filled, for she will carry the mark of flaming sun. For the light she holds within will bring hope to all the MacLaine’s of Moy. When it happens, and it will sooner than ye think…it will be near impossible for any enemy to have an advantage over us.”
Immediately, the small room filled with laughter. Diana grabbed the mantle above the hearth for support. With a fist against her lips, she redirected her attention back to Delilah. Through intermittent snorts, she said. “My apologies, Delilah, but even ye must admit the foolishness ye speak is pure and utter nonsense.”
“This is no’ a light matter, Diana.” Exasperation filled her voice. “How could ye? Ye stole from the laird! Do ye wish to become traitor to your own clan? Ye have traded your life, for a tumble and an alliance to that cretin. Ye are no better than Campbell. The both of ye deserve one another.”
Fear curled through Diana. Her sister could not know she removed the Tir Nam Famhair from Moy that morning. “I have stolen nothing.” The lie fell easily from her lips, as she turned toward her bedchamber. When Delilah remained silent, she continued. Frustration laced her voice. “If I have learned anything over the last twenty-three years, it is that I alone must make my own fate. I will not sit in this hovel for the rest of my life afraid of some myth foretold by our ancestors near two hundred years ago.” She looked her sister straight in the eyes. “Ian MacLaine will be mine. If anyone dares to cross me,…they will pay dearly.”
Delilah gave an unladylike snort. “Yer an even bigger fool if ye think he will want ye now, especially since…” Delilah crossed to the opposite side of the tiny thatched cottage.
“Since what, Delilah? What have ye done” Diana’s mirth disappeared at her sister’s words.
Delilah crossed her arms. “Do ye think I will sit idly by, while ye bring our family and clan to destruction?” Her sister shook her head. When Diana’s mind was set, not even her own flesh and blood could change it.
“When the laird appeared today I told him.” She shook her head in dismay.
Diana’s brows drew together. “What did ye have to tell him, Delilah?” She took a step toward her sister.
“I had to tell him I did no’ have the tome.” A tiny weep broke forth from Delilah.
She expelled a sigh of relief and smiled. “I canno’ believe ye would do this for me, Delilah. Ye truly are the best sis…”
Delilah’s crystal blue eyes shot daggers, though tears still spilled forth. “Do this for ye? Ye think I still have that god forsaken book.”
“Did ye just not say ye told Ian ye did not have it?”
“I do no’!” Delilah threw her hands up exasperated. “Where, Delilah? What have ye done with it?” The accusation in Diana’s voice bordered on the edge of rage.
Diana’s mouth twisted, as Delilah fought back the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes. Why did she have to be so humble? Perfect Delilah always doing what was honorable and right. Tis what made her look like such a fiend in everyone’s eyes. It was an injustice…and it sickened her.
Delilah wiped her tears upon the sleeve of her muslin chemise. “I am just grateful the laird forgave my error.” She turned back to her and let out a deep sigh. “Ye have conspired with the Campbell for the Tir Nam Famhair, but neither of ye will get your hands on it.”
This time Diana moved toward her room to assure the Tir Nam Famhair remained hidden beneath the floorboards.
“Do no’ bother, Diana. I removed the book as soon as I discovered yer intentions to destroy it. However, ye and I have—I am afraid—created a dire situation that could jeopardize the laird, Moy and the clan…our clan, Diana!
“Ye speak in riddles sister. Come out and say what ye mean.” Diana looked lazily at her fingernails.
“A document lay within the folds of the book. I did not know of its importance. Without it, all could be lost!” Delilah wrapped her arms around her waist.
Diana rolled her eyes and turned her head. How Delilah loved to carry on. Waving her hand in front of her mouth, she gave a loud yawn. “Are ye about done, sister? If ye are, may I get in a few words in my defense?”
“Why? So ye can spill forth more of yer lies, Diana? Nay. I have made the laird aware of what has happened, though he is none too pleased about the tome’s absence. He is a good and fair man, and I am glad he has forgiven me my stupidity in the matter. At this moment, his only concern was to flush out those who are traitors to the MacLaine’s.”
Delilah’s words were barely out when Diana slammed her hand on the rickety table and leaped from her seat. “What have ye done? I must have that book, do ye hear me, Delilah! It felt as though her heart would beat itself from the walls of her chest as she waited for her sister’s response. She paced back and forth with her hands in a tight fist.
“I have not destroyed it as ye foolishly thought to do, but I have safeguarded it far, far from here.”
Diana could have torn her sister’s heart out when she gave her a satisfied grin and said. “I owe ye no explanation, Diana, but I will tell ye. I have cast a spell and the book will not be returned until it falls into the proper hands. Hands that will work to the good of the MacLaine’s.”
When Delilah emphasized the words proper hands, the wind sucked from Diana’s her lungs. “What do ye mean, Delilah? Who’s hands?”
Delilah turned her back and lifted the thin curtain that separated their living area, from the bedchamber and disappeared. A sobbing Diana crumbled to the floor and cursed her sister’s name. “Delilah! Delilah! Ye get me that book Delilah or I swear…”
As she made the threat, Delilah came from the back room carrying a bundle wrapped in plaid. The sight halted her tantrum, and a look of confusion shone upon her face. “Yer leaving?” Her eyes scanned the mere sack.
Delilah did not answer her question but said. “Or ye swear what, Diana?” Her sister did not look the least bit intimidated by her threats and gave her the courage to continue. “We both know yer powers can not withstand my own. Get off the floor, Diana and cease your threats and reap the err of your ways sister.”
“Tis not the first time I have made a mess of things, Delilah. There is no need fer ye to leave our home.” It was true Delilah’s powers were stronger. She could not leave, not before she could get her hands on the Tir Nam Famhair. She would need her sister’s magic to find it, though she intended to use trickery to see it done.
“I can see it in your eyes, Diana. Even now, ye conspire within that head of yers, yet ye do not even know how close ye came to endangering the Fae realm. If ye had gone through with your daft plan, ye would have caused a fissure between the mortal world and the Fae. In the wrong hands, a mere mortal…aye, a mere mortal like Campbell, could have opened a portal to the otherworld with that book. Yer selfishness could have put the Fae at risk of discovery—and we both know there are those who covet our powers, and would see it destroyed forever.”
Diana pulled herself off the dirt floor, as Delilah made her way to the front entrance and she followed close behind. The sound of trotting horses grabbed her attention. “Riders.”
“Aye, riders. The laird is aware of your folly with Campbell, and he fears for my safety with ye so close to my back. There is an abandoned cottage not far from the keep. Lochbuie has need of a healer, and I have agreed. Ye have me to thank, that ye do not find yourself in the bowels of Moy’s dungeon for your conniving ways. However, the laird bid me to warn ye. That deal will only hold if ye never show your face at Moy again.”
Anger like she had never known surged until her fair skin turned crimson. “How dare ye! Ye conspire to turn Ian from me. Do ye think to have him for
yourself?” Diana’s stomach churned. If not for the two men who approached, she could have strangled the last of her sister’s breath from her lungs for dealing her such a blow.
From out of the trees came the two riders, Ian MacLaine and Tam MacLeod. Both men pierced her with hate-filled glares. Delilah passed the bundle to Tam, who placed it upon his saddle and secured it with his muscular thighs. Ian extended his hand and hauled her sister up onto his mount. Nay, this canno’ be happening. Delilah sits with her arms wrapped snug around Ian’s waist. My Ian. How could my own flesh and blood betray me? Satisfied all was secure, they kicked the flanks of their mounts and vanished into the night.
Diana stood there in the darkness, the moon’s glow was hiding behind the thickening clouds. There was a storm brewing, but it did not even compare to the fervent whirlwind of jealousy that raged within her at this moment. The riders were long gone, but she yelled into the emptiness of the night. “Ye will pay for this Delilah…if it’s the last thing I do, I will have Ian MacLaine and Moy for myself!”
Chapter Four
A retinue of Dunnideer men returned with the riders Ian sent out less than a sennight ago. Ian raised an eyebrow at his grandmother, as she road in like the queen herself, surrounded by a dozen of his brother, Bran’s men. It was not possible for the messengers to have made it to Aberdeenshire in less than a sennight with his missive, and he was not sure he wanted to know how his uncanny grandmother knew of his plight.
Several horses back, Ian spied his brother. The last time he laid eyes on Calum was over a year ago when their grandfather, Hector MacLaine passed on. His younger brother had the ability to detect the slightest change in his demeanor. Today was no different. Most of the day had been bright and warm. The cry of a gull screeched across the pale blue sky. He looked up and could see the clouds gather in the distance, and knew they were in for rain by the evening meal.
Kissed by the Laird (First Ladies of the Fae Book 1) Page 5
