To Wed A Wicked Highlander bboth-3

by Victoria Roberts

  Aunt Iseabail’s eyes glowed with enjoyment. “Ye have brought me the greatest gift of all, Rosalia. He is absolutely bonny. And he looks just like his sister, Anabel.”

  Rosalia paled.

  * * *

  Alex sat in his study with the MacGregor, grateful for another generous gift of ale. No sooner had Sybella’s brother walked out of the gates than MacGregor had appeared. The man’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Now that Alex knew about some of the MacKenzies machinations against the MacLeods of Lewis, he sought MacGregor’s counsel. He would have time to visit with his cousin later, but at the moment, Alex was more curious to see if the MacGregor had any sound advice to offer him.

  “So the MacKenzie’s son told ye that they killed innocents?” asked MacGregor, shaking his head in disgust.

  “Aye. I cannae think of anyone else who would want to kill my wife.”

  “’Tis a logical choice to think the MacLeod would want to avenge his clan by taking aim at your wife.”

  “Aye, but I have ne’er known of a man who could cover his tracks so well. My most skilled tracker couldnae find the trail.”

  “Mmm…’tis difficult to say, but we donna know what the MacLeods do on that savage isle. And ye say naught has happened since your wife has remained inside the walls of the castle?”

  Alex nodded in response.

  MacGregor had a look of concentration on his face. “My men are verra skilled. I will send a few of them out with your men to scout. Mayhap they can pick up something.”

  “Thank ye.”

  “Donna worry, MacDonell.” MacGregor gave a brief nod. “Ye helped save my wife. I will help to save yours. Rosalia will be cross with ye for stealing me away for so long.” He stood and downed the rest of his drink. “Come. Let us find our women.”

  Alex walked with the MacGregor to the great hall where the women were gathered around Aunt Iseabail at the table. Rosalia’s eyes lit up when she spotted her husband. When Alex offered Sybella a smile, her eyes darkened and she quickly lowered her gaze.

  MacGregor placed his hand on Rosalia’s shoulder and bent to kiss her on the top of the head. “Wife.” He turned and kissed Aunt Iseabail on the cheek. “’Tis wonderful to see ye again, my lady.”

  Aunt Iseabail smiled. “Your husband hasnae changed. He is still a verra fine looking man, Rosalia.”

  MacGregor’s face reddened slightly.

  Rosalia stood up from the bench and embraced Alex. “Cousin, marriage suits ye. Ye look well,” she said with a grin.

  Alex raised a brow. “I could say the same for ye, Rosalia. And this young lad must be Lachlann. Congratulations to ye both.” He ruffled the bairn’s hair and was rewarded with a smile. Alex stood behind Sybella and placed his hand on her shoulder. He didn’t miss how she tensed under his fingertips and then abruptly stood. “And this is my wife, Lady Sybella MacDonell.”

  “’Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Laird MacGregor. My husband speaks of ye highly.”

  “Please call me Ciaran.”

  “Verra well. I am Sybella. Ye have journeyed far. Please sit and I will get ye something to drink.”

  “Nephew, did ye see their strapping young bairn? How much longer do ye think it will be before ye have one of your own? I am nae getting any younger, ye know.”

  Alex shook his head. Rosalia giggled, MacGregor smirked, and Sybella paled. “Give it time, Aunt. Ye cannae schedule such things.”

  To Alex’s relief, Rosalia came to his rescue. “Ye cannae rush the gods. When they bless Alex and Sybella with a bairn, they bless them.”

  “I suppose ye are right, but I find that the more time passes, the more impatient I become.”

  “Ciaran, Lachlann is falling asleep in my arms. I think I will go to our chamber and lay him down,” said Rosalia, repositioning the bairn.

  MacGregor held out his arms. “Nay, give him here. I will take him. Ye stay and enjoy the company of your kin.”

  “Thank ye.”

  The fierce MacGregor laird departed the great hall, carrying his bairn in a way that was as gentle and nurturing as the caring father that he was. Alex remembered when the man’s blade had struck down Archibald Campbell, the seventh Earl of Argyll. It was hard to believe that a warrior so adept on the battlefield could be a loving, devoted husband and father. Alex didn’t miss seeing how the man doted on his wife and child. Perhaps one day he himself might know the feeling of holding his own son, his heir.

  Rosalia and Sybella resumed their seats flanking Aunt Iseabail, while Alex sat down on the other side of the table. “And how is life at Glenorchy? If I were to guess by that smile upon your face, Cousin, I would say life is treating ye well.”

  “Everything has been wonderful. Ye probably received my missive that Declan and Liadain are wed. And Aisling and Aiden are expecting another bairn.”

  “Ye will have so many MacGregors underfoot that your husband could start his own army.”

  Rosalia giggled. “Donna give him any ideas. And what of ye, Alexander?” She leaned forward and smiled at Sybella. “My cousin is treating ye well?”

  Alex didn’t fail to notice Sybella’s slight hesitation. “Aye, he is verra kind.”

  “I am sure my seanmhair would have words with him if he wasnae.”

  Aunt Iseabail nodded. “’Tis true, Nephew.”

  “I am so sorry to hear of your father’s passing. He still seemed hale the last time we were here,” said Rosalia in a soft tone.

  “His health slowly faded.”

  “He was a good man.”

  “Aye.”

  Rosalia leaned in close to Aunt Iseabail. “And how have ye been enjoying having another woman within the walls?”

  Aunt Iseabail clapped her hands. “I simply love it! Sybella is quite lovely company.”

  “And I feel the same for ye,” said Sybella, her eyes distant.

  “Have ye heard word of your mother, Rosalia?” When Rosalia’s lips thinned, Alex gave her an apologetic smile.

  Rosalia shifted on the bench. “Nae since her English lover’s fate joined that of the bloody Campbell.”

  * * *

  “Who is the bloody Campbell?” asked Sybella. If she was being compared to this man, she wanted to know who he was.

  “He was Archibald Campbell, the seventh Earl of Argyll. And his lands bordered the MacGregor. He was the right hand of the King, but his greed got him killed,” said Alex with a trace of bitterness.

  Sybella’s eyes widened innocently. “So I take it he wasnae a man to be trusted.”

  “Trusted? I wouldnae trust him alone with a dog. He held my cousin against her will in order to force MacGregor to break King James’s command. The man got what he deserved. He had nay honor.”

  Alex had said that he trusted the MacKenzies as much as Ciaran trusted the bloody Campbell. Granted, the words Sybella overheard had been spoken with a heavy wooden door between them, but did Alexander truly think her clan had earned the same fate as the bloody Earl of Argyll? Something clicked in her mind: she believed the Campbell had met his demise upon the blade of Ciaran’s broadsword. Is that truly how her husband felt?

  Rosalia cleared her throat. “Can we nae speak of the bloody Campbell? The man has been buried for some time, and he still manages to anger Ciaran. Please donna even whisper the earl’s name.”

  “Aye, there is much to celebrate,” said Aunt Iseabail.

  Alex smiled. “Of course there is, Aunt.”

  “After a long journey, I would love to walk. Why donna we all walk down to the loch?” asked Rosalia. “I am nae sure how long Lachlann will sleep.”

  “I would rather ye nae leave the gates. Why donna ye walk to the parapet? I will join ye after I escort Aunt Iseabail to her chamber. Ye look weary, Aunt.”

  Aunt Iseabail looked startled by Alex’s suggestion. “Aye,” she replied hesitantly. “If ye insist.”

  Rosalia rubbed Aunt Iseabail’s arm. “’Tis all right, seanmhair. Ye rest and we will have plenty of time to s
pend together.”

  While Alex cared for his aunt, Sybella found herself walking the halls of Glengarry once again with Rosalia when all she wanted to do was retire to her empty chamber. She desperately needed an end to this brutal day. She continued to struggle with the memory of her husband’s words and the duty she felt to her clan. This was all one big nightmare, and honestly, she wasn’t sure what to do.

  They stepped out onto the parapet, and Rosalia gave Sybella a knowing look. “Now ye can tell me the true reason why Alexander doesnae want us to walk to the loch.”

  Sybella rubbed her fingers over the stone wall. “Ye are verra observant.”

  “Aye, well, when ye live with Ciaran and his two brothers, ye donna miss too much. Tell me. What is amiss?”

  Sybella became increasingly uneasy under Rosalia’s examination. Frankly, she was tired. Her clan wanted her to betray her husband; her husband didn’t trust her; and now she was standing here with her husband’s cousin, who wanted answers.

  “I can see it in your eyes.” Rosalia paused. “Listen, if it wasnae for the company of my sisters-by-marriage, I would be daft. We are all kin. Ye can tell me anything that is troubling ye. I am a verra good listener.”

  Sybella rubbed her brow. She was somewhat reluctant to speak, but she gathered that Rosalia would find out the truth eventually. “Someone aimed an arrow at my head while I walked in the forest with Alexander.”

  Rosalia gasped. “Are ye all right?”

  “I am fine. Naught untoward has happened since Alexander has confined me within the walls of the castle. His men still scour the woods.”

  “What enemies has my cousin made to warrant such an act?” asked Rosalia in a tone indicating that she did not necessarily require an answer.

  “What makes ye think the man is an enemy of my husband?”

  Rosalia shook her head. “I find most often that women are only pawns in the games of men.”

  “Be that as it may, my clan was the only known enemy of Alexander. But we are wed and our clans are now joined. I donna know of anyone who would want to cause me harm.”

  “Alexander must be worried about ye something fierce.”

  Mixed feelings consumed Sybella. Her husband worried for her safety simply because it was his duty. He was her sworn protector. It wasn’t as if he actually cared about her. He’d basically said so himself. When Sybella didn’t answer, Rosalia tapped her arm.

  “I know this may nae sound too comforting at the moment, but donna worry about it. Ciaran and his men are here and will help my cousin capture the miscreant. Ye are safe. Your husband will protect ye.”

  “Rosalia’s right, ye know.”

  Sybella whipped her head around as Alexander approached them on the parapet. The gentle breeze blew a piece of his hair onto his face, and his words didn’t register on Sybella’s dizzied senses. Her feelings toward him were so mixed up that she mentally chided herself.

  “Why are ye women speaking of this? Do ye nae have womanly subjects to discuss such as raising a bairn or stitching tunics or the like?”

  Stitching tunics? Sybella was about to open her mouth when Alex’s cousin spoke before she had the chance.

  “I think someone taking aim at your wife’s head is more important to discuss than talking about stitching tunics, Cousin,” Rosalia said in a scolding tone.

  Alex draped his arm over Rosalia’s shoulder. “I donna want ye causing Sybella more worry.”

  “Aye, let her be mute. That will surely fix all of your problems.” When Alex’s eyes darkened, Rosalia murmured softly, “Pray excuse me.” Rosalia lifted her skirts and simply walked through the parapet door.

  Sybella was somewhat surprised that Alexander’s cousin spoke her mind. In fact, she liked it very much. She hadn’t often found a lass who would stand up to a brawny Highland laird.

  “I meant what I said. There is nay need for ye to be worried about such things. Now that MacGregor is here, we will find the man responsible. Did ye have a pleasant visit with your brother?”

  At the mention of Colin, Sybella nervously wiped her sweaty palms on her day dress. She suddenly had the feeling that she was one of Anabel’s brothers caught doing something he shouldn’t. She stood to her full height. “It was nice to see him again.”

  Sybella was drawn to the sound of pounding hoofbeats below. She looked over the side of the wall to see a score of armed MacDonell men heading out the gate. “Where are they going?” Surely Alex wouldn’t send that many men to search the forest again.

  “My men travel to Lewis.”

  Her eyes shot up in surprise. “Lewis?”

  “Aye.”

  “This wouldnae have anything to do with the MacLeod, would it?”

  His expression became guarded. “And what do ye know of the MacLeod of Lewis, lass?”

  She lowered her gaze. “Naught but that the man is verra uncivilized.”

  Alex remained perfectly still. When she looked up, he gave a brief nod. “Ella, these arenae matters for ye to be concerned with.” When she looked away from him uneasily, his fingers reached out and grabbed her chin. “Are ye all right? Something seems amiss.”

  “’Tis naught.” She reached up to remove his hand and became aware of the warmth of his touch. Damn. She was more shaken than she cared to admit.

  “If something is troubling ye, tell me. I told ye this before, lass.”

  Sybella searched anxiously for the meaning of his words while attempting to keep her fragile control. The man was unnerving. If she hadn’t heard his words through the study door, she would’ve sworn he actually cared how she felt. Praise the saints, the man was good. She would give him that.

  She gently tapped his hand away. “I would tell ye, Alex. As I know ye would tell me if something was amiss.”

  A smile played at the corners of his lips. “Before long, ye will be able to travel beyond the walls. Ye have my word. We will find the man. Until then, ye need to have faith in me and nae worry.”

  Sybella laughed to cover her annoyance.

  Have faith in him…

  If she remembered correctly, Alex was the one who said he trusted the MacKenzies as much as the MacGregor trusted the bloody Campbell. He clearly didn’t trust her, but she was supposed to “have faith in him.” How typical. Now the brute wasn’t even paying attention to her. He gazed over the wall and she stared at his broad back. He didn’t even turn around. Her anger could no longer be controlled.

  “Ye expect me to—”

  Without warning, Alex turned, his expression darkened, and he shoved her hard into the stone wall with a heavy thump.

  Thirteen

  As soon as Alex turned, he heard the whizzing arrow coming straight toward them. His only thought was to block the arrow from reaching Sybella. He hammered her forcefully into the parapet wall, his only purpose to keep her safe. His battle-hardened senses reached full awareness and he jumped to his feet. He leaned over the side of the wall and yelled for John.

  “Archer!” Alex pointed in the general direction, and John and his men ran out of the gate, swords in hand.

  Sybella moaned as she lay sprawled on the stone floor.

  Alex knelt by her side and supported her head in his arms. “Ella, are ye all right?” When he pushed her hair back from her face, her eyes were heavy, searching. “Ye need to answer me. Are ye all right?”

  When she didn’t answer, a pang of guilt gnawed at him. He hadn’t meant to harm her. Perhaps by protecting her he’d rammed into her a little harder than he initially thought. While Sybella breathed in shallow, quick gasps, a knot formed in Alex’s stomach. He noticed that she was unresponsive and that the color had drained from her face.

  He gently tapped her cheeks. “Wife.”

  A hot tear rolled down her cheek. “Alex…I cannae…catch my breath.”

  “Shhh…donna speak.” He sat down beside Sybella and pulled her against his chest. “The air has been knocked out of ye. Give it but a moment until ye feel it return.”

&nbs
p; “My body aches. I feel as though I was run over by a stampede of horses. Why did ye do that?”

  He lifted his hand and smoothed her hair. “An arrow shot from below.”

  Holding her ribs, Sybella slowly pulled herself into a sitting position. Intense astonishment touched her pale face. “Ye saved my life.”

  “It was naught.”

  “Ye risked your own life to shield me. Ye placed yourself in harm’s way for me, a MacKenzie.”

  “Of course I did. I am your husband, and lest ye forget, ye are now a MacDonell.” When she tried to stand, Alex stood and pulled her to her feet. When she swayed, he bent down and lifted her into his arms.

  “Ye donna need to carry me.”

  “Ye can barely stand.” He kicked open the parapet door with his foot and descended the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he saw Rosalia carrying Lachlann and walking toward them with long, purposeful strides.

  “Alexander, what is happening? What is wrong with Sybella?”

  He spoke as he carried Sybella through the hall to her chamber. “The archer took another shot. John and my men seek him out.”

  “Aye, Ciaran took off with a purpose with his men as well. Let me get the door.” Rosalia repositioned Lachlann on her hip and opened Sybella’s bedchamber door.

  As Alex gently lowered his wife to the bed, she let out a grunt and grabbed her ribs. “God’s teeth, MacDonell. Ye pack a strong wallop.”

  “What happened?” asked Rosalia.

  “We stood upon the parapet and an arrow shot through the air toward Sybella. In trying to protect her, I pushed her into the wall.”

  Sybella rubbed her head. “More like rammed.”

  Rosalia sat down on the edge of the bed with Lachlann. “Are ye all right? Alexander is a big man. That had to hurt.”

  “It wasnae verra pleasant, but the man saved my li—”

  “MacDonell!”

  Alex hastily swung the door open to find MacGregor. Sweat beaded on the man’s brow and his breathing was labored.

  “We found the man.”