To Wed A Wicked Highlander bboth-3

by Victoria Roberts

  Sybella’s brother looked at Alex in surprise.

  “My wife wanted me to tell ye that she will do as ye ask.” For an instant, Colin’s gaze sharpened. Alex added, “Ye asked her to make something for Anabel.”

  “Aye. Thank ye for letting me know.”

  * * *

  As soon as the door closed, Colin attempted to speak but his father held up his hand to silence him. The MacKenzie stood from the chair and disappeared into the hall for a moment. When he walked back into the study, he closed the door behind him.

  He chuckled with a dry and cynical sound. “Och, the MacDonell is naught but a daft fool.”

  “What do ye mean?”

  “The MacLeod archer was my own man, Fearghas MacKenzie. ’Tis a shame I lost a good man, but he accomplished what he set out to do, unlike ye. By the time the MacDonell figures out what is afoot, it will be too late.”

  Colin started to pace and ran his fingers through his hair. “Father, what the hell are ye talking about?”

  “Fearghas took the first shot at Sybella in the woods. And just as I figured he would, MacDonell confined her within the walls of Glengarry. Had ye done as ye were told, your sister would have already found the stone and it would already be back where it belongs.”

  Colin was breathless with rage. “Ye had a MacKenzie take aim at Sybella? Ye could have killed her! What if he had missed? ’Tis one thing to use your daughter to hunt for the stone and entirely another to take aim at the lass’s head! When I talked with her and she told me about the archer, I didnae realize the man was our own kin! Ye didnae even give her time. She would have found the stone.”

  “Colin, spare me your excuses. Ye do your tasks at one pace, always have. By the time my stone is returned, I will be an old man. I told ye I need that stone before the king’s men travel to Lewis.”

  “I donna understand. The MacDonell said two shots were made. If the MacDonell kept her within the walls, why would ye have Fearghas take another shot?”

  His father’s response held a response of impatience. “Fearghas obviously missed. The second shot was meant for the MacDonell.”

  “When the bloody hell did ye decide to kill the MacDonell?”

  His father shook his head and waved Colin off. “It doesnae matter now. Sybella searches for the stone. Things couldnae have worked out more perfectly, if I say so myself. Now I just have to simply sit back and donna have to do a damn thing. The MacDonell will take care of our problem on Lewis by killing that blasted MacLeod, and King James will nay longer bother us. ’Tis only a matter of time before we MacKenzies rule Lewis.”

  Fifteen

  Sybella fumbled for a plausible explanation and her voice broke miserably. “Rosalia…I was searching for ye. I thought mayhap ye were trying to put Lachlann to sleep so I opened the door.”

  “My seanmhair watches him, and I came to see if ye were going to join us or if ye wanted me to bring ye a tray.”

  “I will join ye and Aunt Iseabail to sup. The walls of my bedchamber have started to close in upon me.” Sybella led Rosalia away from the door, trying desperately to mask the guilty expression on her face. She said a silent prayer of thanks when Rosalia followed her and appeared to believe the words that had hastily escaped her lips. No matter, Sybella recognized that she needed to be much more cautious.

  When they entered the great hall, they saw Aunt Iseabail sitting at the table and holding Lachlann on her lap. With a bright smile upon her face, she bounced him gently on her knee. As Rosalia and Sybella approached the dais, Aunt Iseabail looked up.

  “My great-grandson is quite a delightful lad.”

  Rosalia giggled. “Give him but a few minutes, Seanmhair, and he will be back to his ways. Just like his father.”

  “Be that as it may, until then, I shall enjoy him.”

  Rosalia pulled out her chair and sat down beside Aunt Iseabail. “Would ye like me to take him now? I know he can become quite heavy after a while.”

  Aunt Iseabail kissed Lachlann on the head. “Nay, I am having a wonderful time with him. He loves his seanmhair.”

  Sybella sat down at the table and smiled. “Of course he does. He is a wise lad.” She reached for a piece of bread and took a bite. All of this searching did wonders for her appetite.

  “How do ye fare, my dear?” asked Aunt Iseabail.

  Sybella nodded, wiping the crumbs from her chin. “I am much better, thank ye. I am surprised Alexander and Ciaran havenae returned yet. Do ye think it will be soon?”

  “I wouldnae expect them until later this eve. They did ride the entire way to Kintail, ye know. And leave it to the men. Once they start talking amongst themselves, time passes and they pay it nay heed. Unless, of course, it’s time for the midday meal or time to sup.”

  Sybella and Rosalia couldn’t help themselves as they burst out laughing. This was definitely one of Aunt Iseabail’s clearer days. The woman was pure delight. In truth, Sybella hated to see Aunt Iseabail’s mind falter. And not only because of how Aunt Iseabail’s decline affected Alexander. Naturally Sybella felt sympathy for her husband, but Aunt Iseabail was the type of woman that simply grew on a person. Sybella truly cared for her.

  Aunt Iseabail waved her finger. “Ye laugh, but ye best remember that ye two havenae been wed all that long. I’ve had years to discover the ways of men.”

  Rosalia leaned in toward Aunt Iseabail and gave the woman a conspiratorial wink. “It doesnae take that long to figure out our men. I think Sybella and I already understand what ye mentioned, though. Food is definitely the way to a man’s heart.”

  Without missing a beat, Aunt Iseabail responded. “Well, that or tupping.”

  Rosalia brought up her hand to stifle her giggles while Sybella was half laughing, half crying from Aunt Iseabail’s blunt declaration. The woman was obviously in rare form this eve.

  “What are ye two laughing at? I may be old, but I am nae dead.”

  Sybella sat back, watching the jesting between Rosalia and her grandmother. She couldn’t help it when her mind drifted back to the many conversations with her own mother. Sybella realized she’d been far too long without female companionship—even crazy Mary. In truth, Sybella simply enjoyed hearing laughter, any laughter. Something she’d sorely missed as of late. Everything around her had quickly become far too serious.

  When a thought of Colin popped into her mind, Sybella hoped her husband had remembered to deliver the message. Hopefully, she’d bought herself more time before her father decided to do something rash—again. Praise the saints. Her nerves were on edge. She wasn’t masterful in the ways of deception and didn’t like it at all. She’d almost been caught rummaging through Rosalia and Ciaran’s bedchamber.

  When the meal was finished, Rosalia placed a sleeping Lachlann in bed while Sybella retired with Aunt Iseabail to the ladies’ solar—another place Sybella had yet to search. Perhaps she could find an opportunity to discreetly hunt for the stone.

  The room was similar to the one at Kintail, with dainty pictures of the fairer sex wearing delicate gowns. At least the conversation was better than the same boring subjects at Kintail. When Sybella thought of the many times that Mary had reprimanded her for her stitching, a shudder passed through her. Surprisingly, life at Glengarry was becoming more like home.

  Rosalia returned with a wine sack. “Finally, Lachlann is asleep. I brought us something to relax.”

  “What is that?” asked Aunt Iseabail.

  “My husband’s ale.”

  Aunt Iseabail held her hand over her heart. “My dear, are ye trying to kill me? That ale will knock me out for days.”

  “Come now, Seanmhair, a drink will nae hurt ye. In fact, it might be exactly what ye need. ’Tisnae only a man’s drink. Can ye grab some cups from the shelf, Sybella?”

  Sybella grabbed three cups and placed them on the table. She sat down beside Rosalia, who poured a healthy amount of MacGregor’s ale into each cup and handed one to each of them.

  “Before we drink, let me make a
toast,” said Rosalia. “To kin.”

  “To kin,” answered Aunt Iseabail and Sybella in unison.

  Sybella took a mouthful, clamping her eyes shut as she swallowed. The liquid burned down her throat like the hottest of fires. When she opened her eyes, Rosalia had already poured the women another.

  “’Tis your turn to make a toast, Seanmhair.”

  Aunt Iseabail lifted her cup. “To my bonny Lachlann, the dearest lad in all the land.”

  “Aww…Who couldnae drink to that?” asked Sybella. She took another mouthful and closed her eyes again as she swallowed. The liquid was warm as it traveled down her throat but not quite as bad as the first time—or in Alex’s study.

  Aunt Iseabail placed her cup back on the table. “That is it for me, Rosalia. I am off to bed.”

  “Ye cannae take your leave just yet. Sybella hasnae made a toast.”

  Aunt Iseabail sighed. “All right. One more, and then I go to bed.”

  Rosalia refilled the cups and then nodded to Sybella. At this rate, Sybella would not be able to search for the stone. She’d be surprised if she could make it to her bed on her own accord. Perhaps Aunt Iseabail had the right idea and Sybella should flee while she had the chance.

  Lifting her cup, Sybella smiled. “To new beginnings.”

  “To new beginnings,” Rosalia and Aunt Iseabail said in unison.

  Aunt Iseabail stood. “I am walking to my chamber before I am unable.”

  “Do ye want me to walk ye?” asked Rosalia.

  “Nay, enjoy your eve while ye wait for your men to return.”

  Aunt Iseabail bent and kissed Rosalia on the head. “I love ye, my sweet lass.”

  “I love ye too, Seanmhair.”

  Aunt Iseabail walked over to Sybella and also kissed her on the head. “It warms my heart to see ye make my Alexander so happy, dear Sybella.”

  Sybella reached out and grabbed Aunt Iseabail’s hand. “I am glad to be here, Aunt Iseabail.” To be honest, Sybella meant what she said. The MacDonells were quickly becoming family. Home.

  * * *

  Alex was tired, but at least he’d received the answer he sought from the MacKenzie. The man had arranged passage for him to Lewis and agreed for Alex to bring back the MacLeod’s head. A good day’s work, if he did say so himself.

  As they approached Glengarry, the sun started to set below the horizon, casting Alex’s home in an orange glow. The castle looked warm, welcoming. He thought of Sybella and wondered if she would be the same. He was particularly fond of how the sunlight reflected on her golden locks, and he could not easily forget her skin of rose and pearl. Not being able to stay his thoughts, Alex shifted in the saddle. His wife was a rare beauty. And frankly, he missed her.

  The men rode into the bailey, and Alex hoped that Cook had kept them something for sup, or he and his men would surely be raiding the pantry. The stable hand took their mounts, and Alex entered the great hall with MacGregor and John. They were starting to make their way toward the kitchens when the clanking sounds of metal against metal rang throughout the hall. Without hesitation, the men unsheathed their swords, running toward the sound of men in the heat of battle—under Alex’s own roof no less.

  They abruptly came to a halt.

  What the hell?

  The commotion came from…the ladies’ solar. If Alex had not witnessed the sight before him with his own two eyes, he would never have believed it. His cousin and his bonny wife wielded their daggers while the men stood in the hall and merely gaped.

  “I am the fierce Laird Ciaran MacGregor of Glenorchy. And I will be obeyed,” slurred Rosalia, her voice deep.

  “Give me but a moment while I fix my hair.” Sybella held her dagger under her arm while she placed an unruly lock of hair behind her ear.

  Rosalia laughed. “Aye, my cousin would say that.”

  The men lowered their weapons and sheathed their swords.

  With his laugh barely contained, John said, “They are your problem. I go to eat.” And with that, he waved Alex and MacGregor off, ambling to the kitchens.

  MacGregor stepped in the door and folded his arms over his chest. “I donna sound like that, Wife.”

  Rosalia looked up and smiled, blowing her loose tresses from her lips. She stumbled over to MacGregor and placed her hand on his arm. “Ye are back.” She turned to Alex and almost fell into him. “Cousin, ye need to take care of your-r-r-r wife.” Rosalia lowered her voice to a whisper. “She is in her cups.”

  MacGregor chuckled. “Sybella isnae the only one.”

  Rosalia looked offended. “I am nae drunk. Remember, Ciaran, I am used to your ale.”

  MacGregor looked at Alex and rolled his eyes. “Aye, I can see that. Come. I will take ye to bed.”

  She threw herself into MacGregor’s chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I would love for ye to take me to bed, Ciaran.” She stood on the tips of her toes and placed her lips to MacGregor’s.

  The man tapped Rosalia playfully on the bottom and then quickly scooped her into his arms. “Time for bed, Rosalia.”

  Before Rosalia had the chance to protest, MacGregor carried her down the hall, but not before Alex heard her say, “But we were having so much fun.”

  Alex stepped in the door and shook his head. Sybella stood before him with a look of pure innocence on her face. Her eyes were glassy and she swayed on her feet. She approached the table and put down her weapon.

  “When I had the dagger made for ye, I didnae expect ye to be practicing swordplay with my cousin.”

  “Rosalia is in her cups. I was merely trying to keep her entertained.”

  “Aye.” He walked over and pulled his wife into the circle of his arms.

  “I missed ye, Alex. And I am so relieved to see my beloved father let ye return to me in one piece.”

  He detected censure in her tone, but her speech could’ve been due to the ill effects of the ale. He rubbed his hands over her back, and she was so warm. Frankly, she felt damn good in his arms.

  Sybella pulled back and brought her hand gently to his cheek. “My dearest Alexander, please tell me ye remembered to give Colin my message.”

  He kissed the palm of her hand. “Of course I did.”

  A look of relief passed over her face. “Why donna ye get something to eat? I want to remain here for a bit longer and then I will go to bed.”

  “That, Ella, isnae a good idea. Come, I will escort ye to your chamber.” He placed his hand at the small of her back and gestured her forward. She took two steps and then turned around to face him.

  “But there are things I must do—”

  “And they will be here on the morrow. Off to bed with ye. Come.” When she didn’t move, Alex bent and lifted her into his arms. “I see ye are going to be difficult.”

  Sybella kicked her feet. “Alex, put me down. I am perfectly capable of walking on my own accord.”

  He chuckled as he walked out the door. “I donna think so, lass.”

  Alex carried his wife to her chamber, kicking open the door with his foot. He’d never heard her talk so much in his life. She’d chattered nonstop up the stairs, and he wasn’t even sure of half the things she’d said. Gently placing her on her feet, he turned her around. He assisted her with her gown and helped her into bed.

  “I donna want to go to bed. I am nae tired.”

  He rubbed his hand over her hair, smoothing her tresses. “Ella, go to sleep.” He bent over and kissed the top of her head.

  “Why do ye nae share my bed to sleep? I donna mind.”

  Alex stood and ran his hand through his hair. “I donna know. I suppose I ne’er really thought about it.”

  “Do ye love me?”

  “Ella, go to sleep. Ye know nae what ye speak. I go below stairs to sup.” He pulled up the blankets to her chin and tucked her in. “Sleep well, Wife.”

  When she closed her eyes, Alex walked out and blew out the breath he’d held. He leaned up against the closed door and rested his head back. Sybella’s que
stion unnerved him. Did he love her? He obviously cared for her but love?

  He needed a drink.

  By the time Alex made his way to the kitchens, he was alone. John had already departed, and who knew what the hell MacGregor was doing. He quickly shook off that thought.

  Cook had left Alex a tray on the table. He sat down and poured himself some mulled wine while Sybella’s question continued to hammer at him. Why would she ask him that? Their marriage was certainly no love match, the wedding being arranged and all. Women should not ask questions they did not want to know the answer to. Love? Lust? Who was to say? He only knew one thing for certain: it was damn hard to remain coherent when she was close to him.

  Alex finished his meal and sought his bed, needing to put an end to this day. He closed the door to his bedchamber and approached the adjoining door. Not wanting to wake Sybella, he placed his ear to the door. When nothing stirred from the other side, he took it as a good sign.

  He undressed and walked to the bed in his naked form.

  And then he jumped.

  * * *

  “Dh’ fhuirich mi riut.” I waited for you.

  Alex’s eyes widened. “God’s teeth, lass.”

  Sybella leaned up from the bed on her elbows. “Come now, Laird Alexander MacDonell. I thought ye were a fierce Highland laird.”

  “Aye, but I didnae expect someone to be lying in my bed in wait. Tha e anmoch.” It’s late.

  She held a private invitation in the depths of her eyes. “Then ye must forgive me.” Praise the saints for the ale because she would’ve never had the courage to be so bold. She lifted the blankets, consciously exposing her bare body. “I will take my leave.”

  Alex jumped on the bed and grabbed Sybella’s wrist. “Chan fhaod.” No, you may not. When she raised her brow, he quickly added, “Stay. Please.”

  Sybella stared with longing at him, and he returned an appreciative glance. In truth, there was no place else she would rather be than in her husband’s bed, crushed in his embrace. Her body ached for his touch and she was powerless to resist.

  He eased her back down onto the bed, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. His eyes met hers and it was too easy to get lost in the way he looked at her.