"I'm here, Grandfather. It's Kassidy."
His dull blue eyes stared at her from a sunken face, and his hot fingers clasped hers. "Now that I have looked upon your dear face, I can die," he whispered in a trembling voice. "I told them I would not go until you came. You, my dearest granddaughter, with golden hair so like your grandmother's."
He smiled slightly and took a deep breath that came out like a hiss. Kassidy knew the exact moment Lord Gille died, because his hand fell away from hers and dangled lifelessly over the side of the bed.
The doctor came forward and shook his head. "The chief's gone."
Lady Mary, Kassidy, and Arrian stayed at his side while the others filed sadly out of the room. The three women who had loved him hugged one another and cried tears of grief.
The bagpipes played a mournful tune as they had all day. Ian stood at the window of the study, staring out at the rain that had begun to fall. When he turned to his brother, Jamie, he was frowning. "Can't someone stop those damned pipes? They are beginning to annoy me."
Jamie shook his head. "They're a tribute for our grandfather. You know that."
Ian sat down in a chair and ran his hand through his tousled hair. "I thought that old man would outlive us all." His voice was bitter. "Look around you, Jamie, and tell me what you see."
"I see Grandfather's study."
"No, not Grandfather's. Not anymore. Everything you see here is mine. I'm the chief of Clan Maclvors."
"Yes, you are. But for now I feel only sadness at Grandfather's passing."
"You can't tell me you cared for that old man? My God, Jamie, he never gave you a passing thought."
"I respected him. I can't imagine a life without him. Didn't you love him, Ian?"
"No. I only waited for the day when I could stand in his shoes. I had my life planned for a very long time. Did you know that I had decided to marry Arrian when she was only a child? I only waited for her to grow up. There were many times I could have married, but I wanted the best—Arrian's the best."
Jamie stared at Ian. "Why are you ungrateful for all Grandfather did for you? He taught you everything and made you his heir."
"He taught me nothing, and I would have been his heir in any event." Jamie shook his head. "I once admired you, Ian. But lately I'm not so sure you are worthy of the trust Grandfather placed in you."
"It matters little what you think, Jamie. I'm chief and will answer to no one. I'll need your help, and damn it, you will do as I say."
"You didn't plan on Warrick Glencarin spoiling your plans, did you? You know why he did it, don't you? To lash out at me for taking Helena away from him." Jamie was silent for a moment. "I'm not sorry I married Helena, for she is a gentle soul and has given me a fine son. But I do rue the way I forced her to marry me—she deserved better."
Ian looked at Jamie in disgust. "You're getting soft."
"Perhaps, but you're getting hard, Ian. How can you not grieve at Grandfather's passing?"
Ian wasn't listening to his brother. "Lord Warrick will pay for what he's done to my Arrian." He shuddered, wondering if the man had touched her in any way. "I'll see him rot in hell."
"You should feel some satisfaction, Ian. Arrian and Kassidy escaped from that man. So his revenge on you was not quite a total victory."
"Yes. He didn't expect me to get her back. I'll petition the king and we'll have that mockery of a marriage annulled, and then Arrian and I shall be married. Lord Warrick has dug his own grave this time. The punishment will come swiftly from the king because of Adrian's importance. She's not just some little Scottish noblewoman, and this is not just another feud."
"Aunt Mary says there can't be a wedding or any celebrating for a year because of Grandfather's death. You'll have to bide your time."
Ian slammed his fist down on the desk. "Will you stop telling me what Aunt Mary says! She isn't chief here—I am. It's my word that will be obeyed, not hers."
Arrian had been dreading the meeting with Ian, but it could no longer be delayed. She was prepared to face his displeasure and recriminations.
She chose to meet him in the garden where she had often played as a child. When she approached him, he was standing with his back to her. She felt pity for him, knowing how he must be grieving for their grandfather and that she must add to that grief.
"Ian," she said, watching him turn around to face her. "Are you all right?"
"I'm holding up." He took her hand and raised it to his lips. "I have been thinking of you."
"Ian, I'm so sorry about Great-grandfather. Will you accept my condolences?"
He lowered his dark eyes. "We shall console each other, Arrian, for he was dear to us both."
"I didn't know Grandfather as well as you did, but I loved and admired him."
"Grandfather was a hard man, Arrian, although you would not have seen that side of him. He expected much out of his family, and more from me."
"Yes, I can believe that."
"He loved your mother more than anyone. I believe Kassidy could have asked anything from him and he would have given it to her."
"Mother is very distressed. She loved him a great deal. I'll be glad when Father arrives so he can comfort . . . us all. He can help you put your affairs in order if you wish."
"I want you to know that your father will always find a welcome at Davinsham Castle. Unlike my grandfather, I respect him and will welcome his advice in many matters."
She knew they were both talking of trivial things to keep from saying what was on their minds. Now that she stood before Ian, she knew that whatever she had felt for him had been only a young girl's fancy. But she could not tell him this. She could not hurt him any more than he'd already been hurt.
She gathered her courage. "You know that I agreed to a marriage with Warrick Glencarin?"
"Yes, and I understand why. Aunt Mary explained it to me. It wasn't your fault, Arrian, and it isn't a real marriage."
"I am told that it is legally binding."
"Yes, but I'll deal with that." He searched Arrian's face. "Aunt Mary assured me that you didn't share Lord Warrick's bedroom."
She felt laden with guilt. "No, Ian, I didn't share his bedroom." She lowered her head, feeling as if her heart would break at what she must tell him.
He forced her to look at him. "Something happened between you, didn't it?"
She took a deep breath. "I want to be honest with you, Ian. I am no longer a maiden."
Arrian watched Ian's eyes fill with rage before he turned away from her. She watched his shoulders droop, and she felt such remorse for hurting him.
At last he turned back to her, his face contorted in fury. "How dare that bastard touch what belongs to me! You were to be mine, pure and sweet, untouched by any man. I waited for years for you. There were times when I wanted you so badly I ached. But I controlled the urge, knowing that you would one day belong to me alone."
She felt his anguish. He loved her, and she could not return his feelings. "I'm sorry, Ian."
"Sorry . . . sorry!"
"Yes, of course I am. You act as if I deliberately set out to hurt you, and you know that is not true."
"You should have taken your own life rather than allow your name to be linked with our enemy."
She could not believe the things he was saying to her. She thought of poor Gwendolyn, who had done just that. "It was not only my life I was worried about at the time. I also had concerns about Aunt Mary."
"Damn Aunt Mary. That meddling old woman has caused nothing but trouble."
Arrian was shocked and felt the need to defend their aunt. "Aunt Mary is—"
"Did you find Lord Warrick handsome, Arrian? Was he hard to resist? Do you think I hadn't heard how he attracts women to him? Did he attract you, Arrian?"
She backed away from him. "Why are you asking me these things?"
"Because I have the right to know." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her against him. "Did he stir within you the flames of desire that only I should have stirred?"<
br />
"Ian, let me go." She tried to pry his fingers loose from her wrist. "You're hurting me."
At that moment they heard someone coming down the path, and he released Arrian reluctantly. "Is there nowhere we can be alone? Every time I try to talk to you someone interferes."
Arrian was relieved to see Lady Helena walking toward them. She had met her only this morning and had found something sad and lonely about the woman. Arrian wondered if she still loved Warrick.
"Ian, Arrian, isn't it a lovely spring morning?" Helena pulled back when she saw the scowl on Ian's face. "I'm sorry. I suppose the two of you want to be alone."
"No. Wait," Arrian said, moving quickly toward Helena. "I'm coming with you." She glanced at Ian. "I'm sorry. We will talk about this later."
Arrian turned her attention to Jamie's wife. "I hear you have a son. I would like very much to see him."
Jamie's wife looked pleased. "He is a delight, and so like his father."
Arrian refused to look back at Ian, but she could feel his eyes burning into her. She couldn't blame him for being angry. He didn't deserve to be hurt, and she had hurt him dreadfully.
Lady Helena chattered on, and Arrian tried to follow her conversation. But her mind was far away at a castle by the sea. She wondered what Warrick was doing at this moment.
21
High scattered clouds occasionally blocked out the sun, and a brisk wind blew out of the south on the day Gille Maclvors was laid to rest in the family crypt. Hundreds of clan members, friends, and family gathered to pay their last respects.
The chief of Clan Maclvors had ruled with might rather than benevolence, but still he'd commanded great respect.
Arrian stood with her arm around her grieving mother while the pipes wailed a forlorn strain. It was the passing of an era and the finish of a man who, if he had not gained a name in history, had at least touched the lives of those who knew him.
While the minister painted a flowery tribute to her great-grandfather, Arrian looked at the people around her. Her mother and Aunt Mary were genuinely grieving. As new head of the clan, Ian stood in a place of honor, his head bowed, obviously saddened by Lord Gille's passing. Arrian saw a tear slide down Jamie Maclvor's face, and his wife Helena was sobbing loudly.
She felt her mother take a faltering step, and Arrian's hand tightened on her arm. "Have courage, Mother, and lean on me."
"Good-bye, Grandfather," Kassidy said. "This world will not see your like again."
Kassidy and Arrian turned back to the castle, while two clan members helped a distraught Lady Mary up the grassy pathway.
Ian stood alone, his thoughts not touching the crowd around him. He followed Arrian with his eyes. She had changed toward him. He now had everything he wanted, everything except her, and he would have her too— nothing would stop him.
There was a strained intensity in the formal dining room as the servants silently went about the task of serving dinner to the many guests who had remained after the service. Ian took his rightful place at the head of the table, placing Kassidy on his right and Arrian on his left.
As the new chief surveyed the faces of the fifty people at the table, he stood up, wineglass in hand.
"I ask you all to drink with me to acknowledge that the torch of power has been passed from my grandfather to me. There will be many changes in the old ways, for we are a new generation. I want you to know that I take up that torch with confidence in the future and with assurance that we can overcome our enemies. If any of you have troubles, you will come to me as chief of the clan and I shall endeavor to help you."
There was a raising of glasses from the guests, but there were also hostile glances from many of them. An uncomfortable silence passed as the ladies and gentlemen took a sip of their wine, their eyes fastened on their new chief.
Arrian swallowed the food without tasting it. There was something about Ian that was different and some- how disconcerting, yet she could not have said what it was that disturbed her. It was as if she saw him for the first time. He seemed somehow like a little man sitting in a big man's chair.
Kassidy watched her daughter's face and read much of her thoughts. Ian was feeling his power and expressing that power with pompous arrogance. Accustomed to her father's quiet strength, Arrian was not stirred by Ian's swaggering show of importance.
Aunt Mary had difficulty rising because of her leg, but she managed to stand, drawing everyone's attention. "I, too, wish to give a tribute—not to my nephew, who is so newly become chief, and who has not yet proved himself worthy—but to my father, who proved his worth many times," she said, her eyes blazing. "Ladies, gentlemen, I give you a salute to Gille Maclvors. He was a man who stood taller than most. His enemies feared him, and his family cherished him. He will be missed."
With an uproarious shout, the family members rose to their feet and drank to her toast. Lady Mary took a sip of her wine and placed the glass on the table. "Now if you will all excuse me, it has been a tiring day."
The company gathered at the table watched in shock as Lady Mary left the room, for what she had done amounted to a slap in Ian's face.
Kassidy laid her napkin aside and stood up. "You will excuse me also, Ian. I must see to Aunt Mary. This has all been very difficult for her."
Anger smoldered in Ian's eyes. He had thought to use this large gathering of clan members to his advantage and firmly establish himself as chief. Now others were leaving. Too late he realized he had blundered by pressing his claim too soon.
As the moments passed, there were only Jamie and Helena and Arrian left at the table with him.
"Well, it would seem we are to have our dessert alone," Ian said, trying to hide his fury.
"You shouldn't have done it, Ian," Jamie said in a rare show of defiance against his brother. "The family and friends were here to pay their last respects to Grandfather. This was not the time for you to establish your claim as head of the family."
Arrian's heart went out to Lady Helena, whose face was puffy and red from crying. The woman was obviously not happy. Could she possibly still be grieving over Warrick?
Ian came to his feet. "At least you didn't desert me, Arrian. Come with me to the library. There is much we have to discuss."
"I would prefer we have our conversation another time, Ian. We only buried Grandfather today, and I need time to grieve for him alone."
"Ah, rebuked by my bride-to-be. Perhaps you will be the one to refine my rough manners and save me from being too impetuous as I was today."
Before Arrian could reply, his hand fastened on her wrist, and he led her from the room. She said nothing until they were in the library, and then she turned on him furiously.
"I am not accustomed to being handled in that manner, Ian. When I said I didn't want to talk to you tonight, I meant it!"
His jaw clamped shut tightly. "Perhaps if I had been the handsome chief of the Drummonds, you would have come readily enough with me."
She stared at him, thinking she must have misunderstood his words. "I can assure you this has nothing to do with Warrick."
He spun around. "So, you call him by his Christian name. Did that man force you to his bed, or did you go willingly?"
"How dare you!"
"I knew he would have you—he had to, because it was his twisted way of hitting at me. He did wound me this time, Arrian."
"Ian, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I don't know what to say except to ask you to forgive me."
He caught her arms and pulled her close to him. "I doubt a man has ever loved a woman as I love you. No man has waited as long or as patiently as I've waited for you. I will not let you go, Arrian."
She pushed against him. "I am not property, Ian, nor am I one of your clan that you can tell me what to do."
He saw resentment in her eyes and quickly released her. This was not the way he wanted it to be between them. "Now I must ask pardon, Arrian. I allowed my adoration for you to make me speak rashly. Can you not be a little charitable toward me, for I ha
ve suffered greatly?"
"I know you have," she said kindly. "Let's not think about it, Ian. We are all under a strain because of our grief for Grandfather."
"Yes, his death has left us without direction. That's why I'm trying to establish my leadership. The clansmen need to know that I'm capable of standing in his place."
She felt pity for him. He had a great deal of responsibility on his shoulders, for which their Grandfather probably hadn't prepared him. "It will come to you in time, Ian. After the clansmen have grieved for Grandfather, they will be ready to listen to you."
"With you beside me, I could rule the world, Arrian. I know the Maclvors clan has been drifting apart, and I want to bring it together in a reunion of spirit and purpose."
She saw his dream through his eyes and felt sorry that he would never see it fulfilled. "Many of your people have moved away, Ian. Aunt Mary told me that Maclvors have settled in different parts of Scotland and some have even gone as far away as America seeking a new life. She says there is nothing for them here. The land will no longer support them as it did in the past."
"Aunt Mary is not all-knowing. I will live to see the day when we Mclvors will crush our enemies and break the shackles of England! The day will come when we shall again rise to power."
She realized he was not speaking rationally. "You must not say that, Ian. Surely you know that's impossible."
His eyes flamed with passion. "Does not the Scottish blood in you cry out to be free of English domination?"
"I am English, Ian. You must try to remember that when you speak of crushing my country."
Ian tried another approach. "Don't you want to bring Warrick Glencarin down from his lofty perch, to slam him to his knees and make him beg for mercy?"
"No. I only want to see an end to the conflict, Ian. Unlike Clan Maclvors, Clan Drummond is still intact and they greatly outnumber you. Ian, you could not win a war against them, for they are loyal to their chief. If you continue, you'll surely bring King William's wrath down on your head—then you'll lose everything."
He didn't seem to hear her words, or he chose to ignore them. "Will you see the sham of a marriage between you and Lord Warrick set aside?"
Highland Love Song (DeWinter's Song 2) Page 19
