To Wed A Wicked Highlander bboth-3

by Victoria Roberts

  * * *

  MacGregor grunted when Alex sliced his arm. “Watch it, MacDonell, lest ye forget this is swordplay.” The man briefly stopped to check his scratch, but Alex continued to strike at him again and again.

  “I didnae forget. I am in need of a bit of sport.” When MacGregor came down hard on Alex’s sword, pain shot up Alex’s arm and he almost lost his grip.

  MacGregor’s eyes flashed a gentle but firm warning. “I donna mind sparring with ye, but if ye continue to swing at me like ye’re in the heat of battle, I am going to fight back. And I ne’er lose.”

  Alex deflected another blow. “I was counting on it.” He was trying to clear his mind the only way he knew how. It was only a matter of time before Sybella took the stone, and he needed to be prepared. He was determined that this would be the last battle with the MacKenzie. And Alex had no intention of losing.

  MacGregor looked over Alex’s shoulder. He dropped his sword and shoved Alex into the wall. “Your wife took her leave with my son. What the hell is wrong with ye?” he asked between clenched teeth.

  Alex nodded for his men to depart and MacGregor released his grip.

  “I prepare to raise arms against the MacKenzie.”

  MacGregor raised his brow. “Is there something ye want to tell me, or are ye just daft?”

  Alex grimaced. “To be truthful, I donna even know where to begin.”

  “Howbeit instead of trying to provoke me into killing ye, we have a wee bit of ale and ye can tell me all about it.”

  Alex wiped the sweat from his brow. “Aye, let’s speak in my study.”

  The men rested their swords against the wall and made their way to Alex’s study. MacGregor closed the door and sat down in the chair while Alex poured them each a tankard of ale. Alex took a healthy mouthful and swallowed. He placed the tankard on the desk and looked MacGregor in the eye.

  “My wife is a traitor.”

  MacGregor kept a blank expression upon his face. “And ye think this why?”

  Once Alex opened his mouth, words flew out like a raging river. He told MacGregor the entire story and then some. After a while, he wasn’t even sure of all he’d said. When he finished, MacGregor finally spoke.

  “Ye need to think this through and donna let your anger guide ye. Aye, the lass sent a missive, but ye donna know the meaning of her words. Ye think ye do.”

  “Hell, MacGregor. What else could she possibly mean?”

  Ciaran shook his head. “I donna know, but I have seen the way she looks at ye.”

  Alex sat back, momentarily rebuffed. “What has that got to do with anything?”

  “All I know is that the lass looks at ye the same way Rosalia looks at me. And I know my wife loves me.”

  There was a trace of laughter in Alex’s voice. “Love? She doesnae love me. She betrayed my trust. She is a MacKenzie. She knows of the stone. She—”

  “Hasnae taken it.”

  “Yet.”

  “I will give ye my advice, but ye will do as ye will. Donna speak with Sybella about this until ye know for certain. Mayhap she does know of the stone, but mayhap she also loves ye and isnae a traitor.”

  Alex clenched his jaw.

  “I know this isnae easy for ye to hear, but ye see the lass with your Aunt Iseabail and Lachlann. How could someone with so much compassion do such a thing? All I can say is this—give your wife a chance. If she takes the stone, ’tis another matter entirely.”

  “I have John watching her every move.”

  “And ye are laird. Ye do what is necessary to protect your people.” MacGregor poured himself another tankard of ale.

  “I’ll be damned if I let my clan fall to the MacKenzie.”

  “I would expect naught less.”

  Alex sat back. “Do ye think me a fool for marrying her?”

  “I think ye did what was necessary to better your clan. ’Tis what we all do.”

  “But ye wed my cousin and she had naught.”

  “Now that is where ye are wrong, MacDonell. Rosalia had everything I could possibly want.”

  Nineteen

  Sybella waited all day and nothing happened. No messenger. No Colin. No word of her father calling off this ridiculous quest to Lewis. She could no longer postpone the inevitable. She needed to remove the stone and place it back in its rightful place. If her clan wouldn’t stop this madness, she would.

  Nightfall had arrived some time ago, and she was somewhat surprised that Alex had not come for her. She opened the adjoining door and saw a mound on the bed. When she heard a low rumble, she knew he slept.

  The time was now or never.

  She wore her dark cloak and kept to the shadows. The men more than likely had sought their beds since they wanted to take their leave before first light. And since it was a warm eve, she thought perhaps they slept out in the fresh air as they had done for the last several days. At least, that was her hope.

  Lachlann had provided her with the perfect cover this afternoon. She had managed to sneak to the stable and show him the animals while conveniently finding a couple of tools, which she’d hid underneath her skirts until she could remove them.

  With the main torches extinguished, Sybella was able to move stealthily to the great hall. For a moment, she stood still, listening for the sound of any movement. Because it was late in the eve, her chances of discovery were lessened. At least she silently prayed that was true.

  There were only two torches lit in the great hall, and neither one was close enough to suit her purpose. She lifted a torch from the wall and walked across the floor. Her footsteps were the only sound heard next to her nervous beating heart. Lowering the light, she illuminated the MacDonell crest.

  She spun her head around as shadows danced across the wall. Her nerves were on edge. Did she hear something, or was it her imagination? A cold knot formed in her stomach. There was no time to falter. Sweat dripped down her brow and she wiped it with her cloak. And once again she was drawn to the clan crest.

  The black raven’s eyes mocked her. The stone was her future, perched on a rock with the words “Cragan an Fhithich.” The Rock of the Raven. And God help her, she needed to blind the raven in order for her clan to have sight. Relinquishing the stone was the only way.

  Sybella placed the torch on the stone floor and knelt next to the crest. She fumbled under her cloak for the tools she had taken from the stable. Positioning the chisel next to the eye of the raven, she pounded the small hammer on top of it. When a loud bang shot through the hall, she froze.

  Praise the saints. She’d never thought about the noise. Panic welled in her throat. At this rate, she would be here all eve and would surely be discovered. There was no time. She lowered the chisel again. After the third attempt, the stone was free. She quickly replaced the eye of the raven with the rock she had found at the loch.

  To her dismay, that rock was too small. Of course, nothing could ever go the way she wanted. And worse yet, pieces of broken stone lay upon the ground. She couldn’t fret about that now. She positioned the eye, securing it in place and brushing the loose particles around the rock as best as she could. She stood, stepping on the eye of the raven and packing it down in place. That would have to do. She grabbed the torch and replaced it on the wall.

  The time of reckoning could not be postponed forever. Her decision came down to two choices: deliver the seeing stone to her father to protect Alexander or simply take the rock out of the equation. After everything her father had done, Sybella realized she had already made up her mind. The stone would never be enough. Her father wouldn’t stop until Alex was dead.

  She walked along the darkened wall of the garden. Fortunately, Aunt Iseabail had wandered out the garden gate so many times that Sybella knew where to find it. The sun would be rising in a few short hours and she needed to move. For a moment, she stood silently, watching and listening to the wall above. When she didn’t hear or see anything, she made her way through the gate.

  Hastening her steps, she walked
with long purposeful strides to the loch. The light of the moon made the path visible enough to guide her. When Sybella reached the edge of the trickling water, she stopped. She held the rock in her hand and traced the smooth surface with her finger. What secrets did this mere rock hold? If this was a means of predicting the future, the seeing stone would be a dangerous weapon for her father to possess. Her sire was ruthless, trying to kill Alexander and placing blame on the MacLeod for an attempt against her life.

  She raised her eyes and studied the loch, confident in her decision and knowing that whatever she did next would change her life forever. There was no turning back. Before she had an opportunity to change her mind, she turned to the side and stretched back her arm the way Colin had shown her. With all of her strength and might, Sybella threw her clan’s sacred seeing stone into the cold depths of the loch.

  “Ye throw as a lad, Lady MacDonell.”

  Sybella whipped her head around and her jaw dropped.

  The captain of Alex’s guard stepped from the shadows of the night.

  “What?” she asked, her voice cracking.

  He gestured to the loch. “I said ye throw as a lad. I donna know many lasses that can toss a rock the same as ye.”

  “Aye…I practiced many times with my brother.”

  John placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. “And how will your brother feel about this?”

  With an innocent tone, she asked, “About what?”

  “There is nay need to be coy with me, m’lady. I know ye took the stone.”

  Sybella began to shake as fearful images built in her mind. Would the man draw his sword and simply strike her down where she stood? She tried to keep her fragile control and her stomach was clenched tight. When she didn’t speak, he closed the distance between them.

  “Come now, Lady MacDonell. I watched ye take the MacKenzies’ seeing stone from the great hall floor. I saw ye sneak out the garden gate, and I followed ye here to where ye tossed the stone into the loch.”

  The silence lengthened between them, making her uncomfortable.

  “Please, I beg ye, ’tisnae as ye think.”

  He chuckled in response. “Then enlighten me.”

  She bit her lip, and her eyes darted back and forth. This man was Alex’s friend and also the captain of his guard. What was she supposed to tell him? She must have hesitated too long for his tastes because he grabbed her by the arm and started to drag her toward the castle.

  “Then mayhap I will simply take ye to my laird and ye can tell him what ye were doing out here so early in the morn. But I donna think he will be as understanding as me.”

  She pulled her arm away from him. “Please! Please wait!”

  He stopped and stood to his full height. “I am listening, but I will nae ask ye again. Do ye understand?”

  Sybella shook her head. “Aye. I knew about the stone.”

  “I gathered that much, lass,” said John dryly.

  “My father made this alliance so I could steal back our stone.”

  His eyes darkened dangerously, but he stood and listened. “Go on.”

  “My father told me that our clan had a seer, but I honestly didnae believe him. I’ve ne’er heard of such a thing, but he insisted Alex’s father stole the stone from our clan.”

  “And ye thought to betray your husband and steal back the stone to give to the MacKenzie.”

  “Nay!” When her voice rose and he raised his brow, Sybella lowered her voice. “It wasnae like that.”

  He waited for her to continue.

  She wrung her hands in front of her. “Well, it was like that, but I didnae want to do it. Things changed. I ne’er searched for the stone until my father insisted I retrieve what was taken and return it to my clan.”

  “But ye didnae. Why?”

  An unwelcome tension stretched even tighter between them.

  “I would ne’er harm Alexander. I was trying to keep him safe.”

  He took a small step closer. “Ye didnae answer my question.”

  She closed her eyes. “I love my husband. And I would rather see the stone destroyed than in the hands of my father.” She paused. “He isnae the man I thought he was.”

  “Now that is the smartest thing ye’ve said yet. I could have told ye that, lass.” John shook his head. “I cannae keep this from my laird. Ye must tell him the truth or I will. And he will know before we take our leave to Lewis this morn. Do ye understand?”

  She paused. “Ye cannae let Alexander travel to Lewis.”

  “The MacLeod tried to kill ye—twice.”

  “Nay, he didnae.”

  “Lady MacDonell, I’d like to think I’m a verra patient man, but ye have a way of making me become verra impatient.”

  “John,” she said, calling him by his Christian name in the hope that he wouldn’t see her as the enemy. She reached out, and the muscles of his forearm hardened beneath her hand. “Ye must believe me. I am loyal to my husband, but if I tell ye…I cannae have harm befall my clan. Nay matter what they have done, they are still my family.”

  “And so is your husband.” He sighed. “I am nae the laird, m’lady. I only follow his orders. I can make ye nay such promises. Now tell me why ye think the MacLeod isnae responsible.”

  There was a heavy moment of silence.

  “Because the man ye held in the dungeon was my father’s man.”

  * * *

  Alex walked into the great hall to break his fast. He finally managed to get some sleep since he knew John watched over his beloved wife. When memories of Sybella started to flood him, he merely reminded himself that she was a deceitful MacKenzie wench. Nothing more.

  He was immediately drawn to the clan crest on the floor. He wondered how long it would take for the lass to be tempted to remove the eye of the raven. A small part of him silently hoped that she wouldn’t and perhaps their tender moments were truly that.

  He looked down and noticed the rock was loose. Well, it could’ve been the fact that it wasn’t the damn seeing stone. He lifted his eyes to find his wife standing in the entry to the great hall. Her widened eyes couldn’t mask her guilty expression if she tried. Instead of following John’s advice to wait, Alex felt his temper quickly rearing its ugly head.

  Thundering toward his wife, Alex grabbed her roughly by the arm. His fingers dug into her soft flesh. “I will speak with ye now.” She practically had to run to keep up with him as he pulled her along behind him.

  “Alex, please. Ye are hurting me.”

  “Your arm is the least of your worries.” He lessened his grip, and once he closed the study door, he thrust her away from him. “Ye betrayed me.”

  “Please calm down. I didnae.”

  “Donna tell me to calm down. Where is the stone?” he demanded.

  “Alex, please.”

  “Where is the stone?” he repeated.

  “I donna have it. I—”

  “Donna play games with me.”

  “I speak the truth. I—”

  He threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Ye speak the truth? Since when does a MacKenzie ever speak the truth?”

  “I know ye’re angry, but let me explain.”

  “Where is the stone? Ye will give it to me. Now.”

  “I donna have it. I threw it in the loch.” She took an abrupt step toward him and lifted her hand to his cheek. “Please listen to me. Ye must believe me. I lov—”

  He pushed her hand away and his eyes narrowed. “Ye took the stone only to throw it away in the loch? Careful, your lies are becoming tangled, Wife. I was a fool to marry ye, but at least I was wise enough to have my men follow ye. Whether ye tell me or nae, I will find that damn rock. And ye MacKenzies shall ne’er have it.”

  She looked hurt and tears welled in her eyes.

  “Your game is over, lass. I know everything. The only reason your father arranged this marriage was for ye to steal back the stone.”

  “Alex, ye have to believe me. I—”

  “Do ye hones
tly think I care?” He heard his bitterness spill over into his voice.

  She hesitated. “How long have ye known? Last eve when ye laid with me…Did ye…Did ye think I could…”

  He smirked.

  “Alex, after what we shared…”

  “I gave the MacKenzie wench a good tupping was all.”

  He felt the sting of the slap, and Sybella’s eyes burned with fire. “My father is many things, but he was right about something. Ye are a wicked man, Alexander MacDonell. Lest ye forget, your clan stole my clan’s seeing stone. Your clan burnt our church to the ground…while a piper encircled it playing a bloody melody!”

  Alex wasn’t about to tell her the piper had been his idea. He needed to get back to the task at hand. “And ye betrayed me.”

  “And that is truly all ye see,” she said as her voice faded. Sybella placed her hand over her heart and looked him in the eye. Her gaze was clouded with tears. “With all of my heart and all that is mine, I truly loved ye, Alexander MacDonell. Mayhap one day ye will nae be blinded by your hatred and will open your eyes to see what was before ye.”

  “All I see before me is a damn MacKenzie who feigned herself off as my wife in an attempt to betray me and my clan. Ye are naught more than a MacKenzie whore.”

  And with that, she smothered a sob and fled.

  * * *

  Sybella needed time to erase the pain. Ice spread through her veins and she felt an acute sense of loss. Alex’s words had hurt her beyond recognition, and her misery was so prominent that it was actual physical pain. Her anguish controlled her. Trapped in her own lie, she was defeated.

  She ran to the stables. When she grabbed her saddle and carried it to her horse’s stall, the stable hand approached her.

  “M’lady, please let me do that for ye.”

  “Nay, I will saddle him. Thank ye.” She didn’t dare look the man in the eye. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing, but she suddenly found Glengarry extremely suffocating. She needed air, needed to breathe, and needed to be as far away from Alexander as possible.

  Sybella pulled her mount over to the riding block. With nothing but the clothes on her back, she galloped out the gate and did not look back. Someone called to her in the distance, but she knew the voice was not her husband’s. No matter, she was dead to him.