King of the Isles

by Debbie Mazzuca

  “Aye, he did. He had no choice, Evie. He rode out the next mornin’ to agree to their terms.” He jerked his chin at the burnt-out shell. “This was all that remained when he arrived. Most thought I’d done it.”

  “You would never do anything so heinous. No one who knows you could believe such a thing.”

  He angled his head to look at her, holding her gaze. “Thank ye, but there were many who did, includin’ my brother.”

  “So, ye’ve come back, have ye?” A stooped old woman dressed in a ragged black gown stepped from behind the crumbling wall.

  Lachlan sucked in a shocked gasp. “How is it ye live? Ye were supposed to have died in the blaze.”

  She cackled, poking through the rubble with her long, crooked staff before looking up at Lachlan. A hint of madness in her milky blue gaze. “Who do ye think nursed Lamont back to health so he could go after ye in London?”

  Evangeline flexed her fingers with the urge to send a charged bolt at the woman who’d hurt him, surprised yet comforted to feel the faint glow in her belly. As though he sensed the direction of her thoughts, Lachlan laid a hand on her shoulder, giving it a restraining squeeze.

  “He’s back, ye ken, he and that Ursula woman. The one who birthed yer bairn. Looks just like ye he does. ’Tis a pity they stopped me before I could kill him. Fools, just like Janet. She’d no’ take the potion to rid her of yer bairn, but I took care of it, didna I?” She shrieked with laughter, pushing her stringy white hair from her deeply lined face.

  “’Twas ye who set the fire?”

  She sneered. “Aye.”

  Taking advantage of Lachlan’s stunned horror, Evangeline leapt from the horse before he could stop her. The old witch stumbled backward as Evangeline strode toward her, pulling on the faint wisps of her magick. “Never again will you torture a child with your vindictive lies,” Evangeline said, shooting a weak bolt that took the old woman to her knees. The crone clutched her throat, her eyes widening in a silent scream.

  Lachlan came up behind Evangeline, sword in hand. His horror had given way to a cold, hard fury. The sharp edges of his blade were obliterated in a fiery red glow. “Run, ye murderous witch, before I put my sword through yer black heart.”

  They stood side by side, watching as the old woman crawled through the charred rubble. Dragging herself to her feet, she hobbled toward the woods with one last terrified look in their direction. Evangeline waited until the old woman melded with the shadows to turn to Lachlan and wrap her arms around his waist. She laid her head on his chest, his heart thundering against her ear. He stood still, his hands hanging at his sides.

  “I’m sorry, Lachlan. I’m so sorry for all you suffered because of that woman.” A tear trickled down her cheek at the thought of the pain the spiteful witch had caused him, of all that he’d lost.

  His arms came around her. “Doona cry, Evie, ’tis in the past.”

  She lifted her face from his chest. “That doesn’t make it any less painful for you to hear.”

  “Havin’ ye to stand with me does.” He framed her face with his hands. Wiping her tears away with his thumbs, he kissed her forehead. “Come, let us be gone from here.”

  As they left the haunted grounds behind them, Evangeline could not help but ask, “Is there a chance she spoke the truth, Lachlan? Could Ursula have borne your child?”

  “Aye. They didna only want my blood, they wanted my seed as well. Ursula hoped by getting herself with my child she’d gain my magick. They drugged me, Evie, chained me down so I couldna fight them.”

  She didn’t know what to say. Mere words seemed pathetic in the face of what he’d withstood. Her throat ached from trying to contain her sorrow. She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to the faded scars that encircled his thick wrist. “I’m proud of you. You didn’t allow what was done to you to make you bitter or cruel. It made you a man to look up to, to admire.” She wanted to tell him it was one of the reasons she loved him, but didn’t think he was ready to hear what was in her heart. The emotion was new to her, and she wasn’t certain she was ready to open herself to rejection. She knew he cared for her and hoped someday he would feel as deeply for her as she did for him, but for now she’d keep it to herself.

  “I’ll remind ye of that the next time ye’re beratin’ me fer bein’ a fool.”

  About to chide him at his attempt to deflect her praise, she remembered the little seer’s prophesy. “Aurora said you were in danger. Do you think it’s Lamont and Ursula she referred to?”

  “Aye, it seems likely.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Fer now we go to Dunvegan. I need to warn Aidan of the old crone’s presence in the Hebrides and to tell him Lamont and Ursula are in the area.”

  She sighed. “Yes, I suppose we have no choice but to go to Rory and Aileanna’s.”

  “Doona sound so disappointed, Evie, I’ll find a way to muffle yer cries of pleasure.”

  “I don’t understand how you can jest at—”

  He cut her off with a breath-stealing kiss. “Aye, that should work.” He grinned.

  The angels were on his side, Morfessa thought as the half-blood king and his bitch rode past where he crouched in the woods. They’d given him another chance to rid the Fae realm of Andora’s evil spawn.

  He’d been beside himself with fury at Bana’s ineptitude. The only thing that had calmed his rage was the hope he could coerce Erwn into doing his bidding. Waiting for a chance to get him on his own, Morfessa learned of the charges Erwn had brought against the queen. She was more like her mother than even Morfessa had thought. He’d overheard the woman warrior tell the palace guard they’d be escorting Erwn from the Isles as soon as Uscias had returned from transporting the she-devil to the Mortal realm.

  Confident the highlander would kill her for having relations with his father, Morfessa had gone through the stones in hopes of witnessing her downfall. He’d reached the portal just before she and Uscias had come through. He’d been lucky to escape their notice, although he thought his old friend had sensed his magick.

  His stomach roiled as he recalled their coupling on the beach. Sickened by the memory, he spat out his disgust on the scorched ground. In that moment he’d realized he could depend on no one but himself to rid the Fae realm of her evil. The old crone had been the answer to his prayers. When the highlander had been brought to the Enchanted Isles to recover, Morfessa had learned what had taken place at Glastonbury. All he had to do now was find this Ursula and Lamont and use their desire to free the dark lords to his advantage.

  They were the perfect instrument to bring about the bitch’s downfall. Soon his troubles would be over. He would be revered once more. Even better, if his plan worked out the way he intended, he would be held up as the hero of the Isles. Saving both the Mortal and Fae realm from the dark lords, an evil the villainous Evangeline would be accused of unleashing. Like mother, like daughter.

  It would be a fitting end to the she-devil’s spawn.

  Chapter 26

  The bairn’s cry from within Dunvegan destroyed the fragile hold Lachlan had on his emotions, the gut-wrenching pain twisting his insides. An innocent child—his child—had been murdered because of who Lachlan was, the bairn’s life snuffed out before it drew a single breath. And now, if the old crone spoke the truth, he had a son with a woman whose madness rivaled that of his old nursemaid.

  “Lachlan?” Evangeline’s hand slipped into his as she waited for him to enter his cousin’s home. “Are you all right?”

  “Aye.” He attempted a reassuring smile.

  “No, you are not.” With a quick glance around the empty entry hall, she drew him back outside and closed the door quietly behind them.

  He leaned against the cool gray stone for support, inhaling deeply of the rain-scented night air in an attempt to regain control over the barrage of feelings that threatened to bring him to his knees. Evangeline remained silent, as though she sensed how close he was to coming apart. He took com
fort in the knowledge she’d stand by him no matter the cost. She knew him, understood the demons he battled as she’d battled her own.

  She brought his hand to her cheek, pressing her soft lips to his palm. Raising her gaze to his, she said, “We can’t change the past nor can we take on the guilt for another’s actions. You were not responsible for what happened to the Lamonts and your child. I won’t allow you to take the blame for what that evil witch did.”

  “And will ye do the same, Evie? Will ye no longer bear the burden of guilt fer yer mother’s actions?” he asked, drawing her into his arms.

  “It’s not the same,” she muttered into his tunic.

  “Aye, ’tis, and well ye ken it.” He smoothed his hand over her long silky mane. “’Twill take time, but mayhap together we will find a way to put our pasts behind us.”

  She eased back to look him in the eye. “I promise you we will find Lamont and Ursula. If there is a child, and he is yours, he will not remain with them a moment longer than he has to.” She took a deep breath then squared her shoulders as if setting out for battle. “We ... we will take him back to live with us in the Enchanted Isles.”

  “Thank ye. I ken ’tis no’ an easy offer fer ye to make.” Her pained expression made it difficult to contain his laughter, and she narrowed her gaze on him. “I ... I adore ye, my bonny wife.” He’d almost said love, but held back. It was not an emotion he thought himself capable of, although, he admitted, if he felt it for anyone it would be Evie. Her quiet words of support were all he’d needed to regain his composure. She was right. Together they would find Ursula and Lamont, and God help them if they’d harmed his son.

  Thunder rumbled over the Cuillans—the mountain range that dominated the skyline—and a clap of lightning illuminated the thick stand of pines ringing Dunvegan’s courtyard. “The skies are aboot ready to open up. We should go inside,” he suggested as two drops of rain splattered onto his forehead.

  From within, footsteps as loud as the distant thunder followed by high-pitched squeals rattled the door of the keep.

  “I quite like the rain,” Evangeline said, snuggling against him as though she meant to remain there for the night.

  “Doona worry, I’ll protect ye from the bairns.” Framing her face, he added, “And I’ll make our excuses so we can retire early and then I’ll make good on my promise to ye.”

  “What—”

  The heavy oak door swung open and his cousin stuck his head out. “Mrs. Mac thought she saw ye. Get in here before ye’re soaked to the skin,” Rory said, motioning for them to come inside.

  Placing his hands on his wife’s shoulders, Lachlan had to firmly push her resistant frame through the door, smothering a laugh as he did so.

  “If we woulda kent ye were comin’, we’d have held dinner fer ye. Are ye hungry?” Rory gave his head a shake, then grinned. “What am I thinkin’? Ye’re always hungry.”

  “Nay, doona go to any trouble on our account. Where is everyone?”

  “’Tis no trouble. Mrs. Mac,” his cousin bellowed.

  “Rory, would you stop shouting, Syrena is trying to settle the babies. What do you need Mrs. Mac for? She’s only now managed to get Alex and Jamie in their bath.” Frowning at her husband as she came down the stairs, Aileanna turned her attention to Lachlan and Evangeline once she’d reached the bottom step. “I’m sorry, this place is a madhouse. Go on up to my solar. Aidan will welcome your company.”

  “Aye, he will. Alasdair’s been talkin’ his ear off fer the last hour.”

  Hands on her hips, Aileanna rounded on her husband. “Rory MacLeod, my father doesn’t visit that often. The least you could do is be civil to him when he does.”

  “No’ that often? He’s here so much he might as well move in.” Rory groaned when Aileanna’s face crumpled and she appeared close to tears. Taking her into his arms, he said, “I’m sorry, mo chridhe. I promise, I’ll try harder to get along with the ... your da.” ’Tis the bairn, he mouthed over her head, gesturing for them to go up. “You’re tired, Aileanna. Why doona ye get an early night?”

  She sighed, leaning heavily against her husband. “I wish I could, but I have to get Olivia and Ava ready for bed.”

  “I’m sure Evangeline wouldna mind helpin’ with the bairns.” Rory cast a hopeful look in Lachlan’s wife’s direction.

  Evangeline froze halfway up the stairs, shooting a perturbed look at Lachlan.

  He shrugged and she scowled at him before turning to say, “Of course. Lachlan and I will be glad to help.”

  “Thank you,” Aileanna said, allowing her husband to guide her up the stairs. “Olivia’s room is beside the one Syrena occupies. I’ve put her and Ava together, but Mrs. Mac has them with her in the boys’ room at the moment.”

  “I’ll meet you in the solar once I see Aileanna settled, Lan.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Evangeline grabbed Lachlan’s arm when they reached the landing and he’d turned in the direction of Aileanna’s solar.

  “Now, Evie,” he grinned, “ye ken I have much to discuss with my brother.”

  “Men.” She lowered her voice and thumped her fingers on his chest. “You are very good at making babies, but when it comes to caring for them, you are nowhere to be found.”

  He wrapped his hand around her fingers. Bringing them to his lips, he nipped the tips. “Ye must admit the makin’ of the bairns is the best part.”

  She freed her hand from his and turned on her heel with a disgusted sigh, muttering under her breath as she marched down the hall. Aye, Lachlan thought, noting the way the trews hugged his wife’s bonny arse, his chat with his cousin and brother would be a brief one.

  An hour after she’d left her husband on the landing, Evangeline entered the solar. Lachlan looked up from where he sat by the hearth and choked on his ale. “What?” she asked, unable to keep the sharp edge from her tone. Not only was she exhausted from wrestling the two-year-old hellions, she was a wet and bedraggled mess. Olivia and Ava had jumped into the bath after Jamie and Alex had run shrieking from the room at Evangeline’s presence.

  Rory’s and Aidan’s jaws dropped when she turned to greet them.

  “Fer Chrissakes, Evie,” Lachlan muttered, grabbing a length of plaid from the chair beside him. He strode toward her and wrapped the colorful red wool around her shoulders. “Yer tunic doesna leave much to the imagination.”

  She glanced down, the damp white fabric had molded to her breasts. “Oh,” she murmured, her cheeks heating. Lachlan held out the chair beside him, but she shook her head, lowering herself to the floor to sit between his legs where she’d be assured of the fire’s warmth. He combed his fingers through her hair, and she swallowed a moan of pleasure.

  “Would ye like somethin’ to drink, Evangeline?” Rory offered.

  “No, thank you.” She tipped her chin at the mug resting on Lachlan’s thigh. “Lachlan will share his.”

  “Nay, he won’t. No’ after the last time,” Lachlan said, giving her hair a gentle tug.

  Syrena entered the solar, closing the door behind her with a drawn-out sigh. “They’re finally asleep.” Looking at Evangeline and Lachlan, she beamed like a proud mother. “I knew you’d work it out.”

  Lachlan’s big hand curled around Evangeline’s neck, his thumb caressing the skin at the base of her throat.

  “Syrena, Lan has brought us some disturbin’ news.” Aidan held out his hand, urging his wife to sit. She took the chair beside him.

  “What is it?”

  “Lamont and Ursula are in the Hebrides.” Lachlan’s hand tightened almost imperceptibly around Evangeline’s neck. She laid her palm on his thigh. “The old crone said a child accompanies them. She claims the bairn is mine.”

  Syrena gasped, reaching for her husband’s hand. “Oh, Lachlan, what are you going to do?”

  Evangeline noticed her friend didn’t question the validity of the claim. Syrena must have known the full extent of what Lachlan had suffered. It was not surprising. Lachlan had a st
rong connection with his sister-by-marriage. As children they’d communicated in their minds—Syrena from the Fae realm, Lachlan from the Mortal.

  “I’m goin’ to find them.”

  “ ’Twill no’ be easy, there’s too many places fer them to hide. And there will be those willin’ to hide them,” Aidan said. His eyes sharpened when his gaze shifted from his brother to Evangeline. She lowered hers, certain he would see her anger. She could not hide it, not after learning he’d been willing to banish Lachlan from Lewes and thought him capable of setting fire to the Lamonts’ home, taking the lives of the woman he’d loved and his unborn child.

  Aidan scrubbed his hands over his face then looked at her. “I imagine my brother has told ye what went on with the Lamonts and I can see ye’re fashed with me, Evangeline. I admit I didna handle the situation well, but doona doubt my love fer my brother.”

  “Ye have nothin’ to apologize fer, Aidan. I ken I was no’ easy to deal with back then. My wife tends to be somewhat overprotective of me is all. It must be my bonny looks and charmin’—”

  She interrupted him with a snort. Aidan’s gray gaze warmed and he smiled.

  “As to what ye said about Lamont and Ursula hidin’, I’m thinkin’ they’ll no’ have given up their beliefs and there will be talk soon enough of strange goin’s on,” Lachlan said.

  Rory rubbed his mug, his brow furrowed. “Any goin’s on in particular?”

  “Have ye heard somethin’?” Lachlan asked.

  “It may be nothin’, but Alasdair was tellin’ the lads a tall tale earlier.”

  “The one aboot the water horse?” Aidan asked.

  “Aye, did he speak to you aboot it as well?”

  Aidan nodded. “He managed to tell me a bit before Alex and Jamie dragged him out of here after their bath wantin’ to hear more aboot it.”

  “Anytime ye’d like to share the story with me would be good,” Lachlan said dryly.

  Rory rolled his eyes. “There’s been a sightin’of a monster in the loch. Several of the villagers have seen the beast and will no longer fish there. ’Tis said to look like a dragon or, as Aidan said, a water horse. Alasdair and some of his men took a boat out a few days past but saw nothin’.”