The Guardian

by Margaret Mallory

  Alex raised an eyebrow at Ian. At least they wouldn’t have to fight their way into Dunscaith, since Hugh had agreed to a formal gathering to select a chieftain.

  “Now, let’s see those babes christened.” Hugh signaled to his men, and the crowd parted for them as they headed for the church door.

  “You’ve got ballocks,” Ian said to Alex, as they waited for the other men to go inside the church. “ Do ye suppose my father has reservations about your ability to lead? ”

  “Me? I was just trying to make Hugh’s eyes bulge as much as you did.”

  They shared a dry laugh, then started for the church.

  “Samhain is less than three weeks away,” Alex said, worry tugging at his voice.

  “It might be easier to take the castle by force,” Ian said, “than to persuade so many hard-headed MacDonalds of anything in so short a time.”

  “Pity Hugh’s mother didn’t drown him at birth,” Alex said.

  “Aye, ’tis a damn shame.”

  The priest, who had a warrior’s build to go with his manner, stood at the doorway, making every man leave his weapons outside. “Now lads, ye can put your claymores in this pile and your dirks in that one. They’ll be no weapons in my church.”

  “Did ye make Hugh Dubh and his men leave theirs?” Ian asked when it was his turn.

  “I did,” the priest said. “And ye will leave yours as well.”

  “You’re a brave man,” Ian said in a low voice. “If you’re a good one, too, then ye know that Hugh is the devil’s tool.”

  The priest’s dark eyes flashed, and he gave Ian a slight nod.

  “Ye can be sure that Hugh and his men kept a few dirks hidden from ye,” Ian said. “I mean no disrespect, but that means my cousin and I must keep ours as well.”

  “Keep them well hidden,” the priest said in a low voice.

  Ian leaned close to speak in the priest’s ear. “When the time comes, we’ll need every good man, including you, Father.”

  “God will reward the righteous,” the priest said. “Now ye are holding up God’s work, so get inside.”

  One look from Ian, and the boys who were sitting in the back pew got up to find other seats. He and Alex needed to sit closest to the door—and the piles of weapons outside. After they sat down, Ian searched the crowded church for Sìleas. It didn’t take long to find her near the front. Hair as bright as hers stood out, even among this many redheads.

  “Who is that beside her?” he hissed at Alex.

  “Beside who?”

  “Ach, ye know damned well I meant Sìleas.”

  Alex didn’t try to hide his smile. “I believe that’s your neighbor, Gòrdan.” After a pause, he added, “Gòrdan is a fine man. I’d wager the lasses find him handsome as well.”

  Ian stewed as a dozen squalling babes were sprinkled and prayed over.

  “By the saints, how many babes were born this year?” he complained.

  “I’d say the men had a verra good winter,” Alex said.

  Ian and Alex were the first ones out the door after the last babe was baptized. The drops of holy water didn’t have time to dry on the babe’s wee head before they had their weapons in their hands.

  “ ’Tis good to have her again,” Alex said, kissing the blade of his claymore.

  He and Alex stood side by side with their blades unsheathed as Hugh and his entourage filed out of the church.

  Hugh stopped in front of them. “Mark my words, unless you’re dead by Samhain,” he hissed in a low voice, “you’ll be on your knees before me at the gathering.”

  “One of us will be dead before that happens,” Ian said.

  Ian met the gaze of each man as they came out of the church and passed him. He recognized most of them. Every man understood that the return of the Highlanders from France had shifted the balance of power here on Skye. Each man would have to choose sides.

  When the last of Hugh’s men was on the bridge to the castle, Ian caught sight of Ilysa, Duncan’s sister. She was such a slight thing, it was hard to believe she and Duncan came from the same mother. In a shapeless gown and with her hair covered in a drab kerchief like a grandmother, Ilysa blended in with the married women. He only noticed her when she looked up and gave him a razor-sharp glance. Then she tilted her head, signaling she wanted to talk with him.

  When he approached the group of women, they crowded around him asking about his travels. It took him some time to ease Ilysa away.

  “I am sorry to hear you lost your husband at Flodden,” he said once they were out of the hearing of the others.

  An emotion he couldn’t read crossed Ilysa’s face before she dropped her gaze and nodded to acknowledge his condolence.

  “Where are ye living?” he asked.

  “I’m back at the castle.”

  Ian stared at her. “That can’t be safe. Hugh and his men are a rough lot.”

  Ilysa and Duncan had grown up in the castle, but Ian had assumed she was living with her husband’s family.

  “Ach, no one notices me,” Ilysa said with a small smile. “And just to be sure they keep their distance, I let it be known that I’m learning magic from Teàrlag.”

  “I can’t believe Duncan is letting ye stay there,” Ian said.

  “As if I’d let Duncan tell me what to do,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I managed without his instruction while the four of ye were gone. He did try, but I’m twice as stubborn as he is.”

  That was saying something.

  “But why stay at the castle?” Ian said. “If ye don’t want to go to your husband’s family, you’re welcome to stay at our house.”

  “Connor needs eyes and ears in the castle, and none of ye can do that for him,” she said. “Hugh thinks so little of women, he has no notion I’m spying on him.”

  If Duncan hadn’t been able to convince her, Ian wouldn’t be able to. “Ye be careful now. Don’t take any chances.”

  “I have a message from Connor and Duncan,” Ilysa said in a low voice. “Ye are to meet them in the cave below Teàrlag’s cottage day after tomorrow.”

  Alex came up behind them and put his arm around Ilysa’s narrow shoulders. “So how is Duncan’s baby sister?”

  “I am just fine, and ye can take your hands off me, Alexander Bàn,” Ilysa said good-naturedly as she pushed Alex’s arm off. “What trouble are ye up to?”

  “Trouble, me? No, I’ve been doing a good deed,” Alex said, with a devilish grin. Turning to Ian, he said, “I found a woman to help your mother and Sìleas in the kitchen.”

  “Did ye now?” Ian scratched his neck. “Let me guess. Does the woman ye found happen to be an attractive lass with loose morals?”

  “Here I am, trying to help out a poor kinswoman whose been thrown out by her husband,” Alex said, shaking his head, “and all ye want to do is criticize.”

  “Ye don’t mean Dina, do ye?” Ilysa asked.

  Dina? Ian had a vague memory of a dark-eyed, curvy lass who was a couple of years older than he was. He’d been between her thighs once or twice when he was barely old enough to know what to do.

  “Good luck with that,” Ilysa said. “I must get back now. I’ve got Hugh believing no one else can make sure there’s plenty of food and ale on the table.”

  When she had gone, Ian said, “Perhaps ye should have asked me before inviting someone to live in my house.”

  “I didn’t see you finding anyone to help your poor mother and wife.” Alex shrugged. “But if ye don’t care that they are working their fingers to the bone, well…”

  At the mention of Sìleas, Ian swept his gaze over the few women still in the churchyard.

  “Have ye seen Sìleas?” he asked, thinking she must have gone back into the church.

  “She left with Gòrdan”—Alex cleared his throat—“for their usual Sunday stroll.”

  “Their what?”

  “Don’t fret—she said they’ll meet us at the house,” Alex said. “Ye see, Gòrdan’s joining the family for Sunday dinner.
As usual.”

  “What does Sìleas think she’s doing?” Ian felt as if his head was exploding.

  “Strolling, I suppose,” Alex said.

  Ian wanted to smash his fist into the middle of Alex’s grinning face.

  That sneaking Gòrdan. Ian found his brother by their horses and grabbed him by the arm. “Tell me what’s been going on with Sìleas and Gòrdan.”

  Niall jerked his arm away. “Gòrdan’s been protecting her, just as we all have, in your absence.”

  With that, Niall swung up onto his horse, slapped the reins, and galloped off. Ian blew out his breath and wondered what had happened to the young lad who used to look up to him. He would have to have a talk with his brother. But first, he would deal with Sìleas.

  On the ride back to the house, he ignored Alex’s attempts at conversation. He was in no mood for it. He kept his eyes out for Gòrdan and Sìleas, but he did not catch a glimpse of the wandering pair all the way back.

  If they were not on the path, where in the hell were they?

  CHAPTER 8

  When they reached the house, Alex went to the byre, saying he preferred the beasts’ company to Ian’s. Niall must have taken himself off somewhere as well, for there was no sign of him. Ian found his mother alone, stitching by the fire.

  “How’s da?” he asked.

  “Sleeping.”

  Ian sat with his arms folded, waiting for Sìleas and Gòrdan.

  His mother looked up from her sewing. “What’s troubling ye, son?”

  “I am trying to understand why my family appears to have encouraged Sìleas to go off alone with Gòrdan every chance she gets,” he said, grinding out the words. “Ye know how that looks, mam. Sìl didn’t have a mother who taught her that sort of behavior could earn her a reputation, but ye know better. Why did ye not tell her?”

  His mother arched her eyebrows. “If ye were concerned about your wife’s behavior, perhaps ye should have come home sooner.”

  “I didn’t know she was traipsing all over the Isle of Skye with Gòrdan Graumach MacDonald.” And traipsing had damned well better be all she was doing with Gòrdan.

  “Ach, men,” his mother murmured and went back to her stitching. “What ye should be doing is thanking Gòrdan for looking after her.”

  “I should be thanking him?” Ian said, working hard not to shout at his mother.

  “Ye can’t expect her to stay cooped up in the house all the time,” his mother said. “Your da never let her go out alone for fear her MacKinnon relations would try to snatch her. Since he was injured and the other men quit working our lands, Gòrdan has been kind enough to accompany Sìleas when your brother can’t.”

  “Hmmph,” Ian snorted. “Gòrdan has something in mind other than protecting her.”

  “Gòrdan is an honorable man,” his mother said. “If ye don’t want Sìleas for a wife, I’d be glad for her to have Gòrdan as her husband.”

  Ian sat up straight. “As her husband, ye say?”

  “Keep your voice down. You’ll wake your da.”

  Before Ian came home, his plan had been to see Sìleas settled with a good man. But Gòrdan? He would never do for her.

  “It would be a good match for our Sìleas—except for Gòrdan’s mother, of course.” She clucked her tongue. “That woman will be a trial to any daughter-in-law.”

  “It would be a good match—except for his mother?” Ian bit out. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this.

  “Aye, it would,” his mother, breaking the thread with her teeth. “Losing Sìleas would be like losing my baby daughters all over again. If she isn’t going to remain part of our family, then it would please me to have her close by.”

  “What makes ye think I’ll let Gòrdan have her?”

  His mother set her sewing aside and gave him a soft smile. “If ye want Sìleas as your wife, don’t ye think it’s time ye told her?”

  At the sound of the door opening, Ian jumped to his feet. Sìleas came in, looking over her shoulder and laughing. She was a vision, with her cheeks rosy from the cold and loose tendrils of hair curling about her face.

  Her laughter died when she turned and saw him.

  “Where have ye been?” Ian stood in front of her waiting for an explanation.

  “With Gòrdan,” she said, as she slipped off her cloak and handed it to Gòrdan to hang by the door.

  “I did not see ye on the path,” Ian said.

  “We weren’t on the path,” she said, then turned to speak to his mother. “Such a lovely afternoon for this time of year. No, don’t get up, Beitris. I’ll see to supper.”

  She brushed past Ian and headed for the kitchen without so much as a glance at him. He was about to follow her when Alex stuck his head through the front door.

  “Niall and I could use your help with one of the horses,” Alex called, then shut the door again.

  Ian stormed outside and found Alex waiting for him by the byre. “What do ye need me for? You’re the best man with horses.”

  “I didn’t call ye out for help with the damned horses,” Alex said in a low voice. “Your brother is in the byre, and he’s in such a fury he’s like to put the cows off their milk.”

  “I don’t have time now,” Ian said, clenching his fists. “I need to talk with Sìleas.”

  “Just now, I think ye need to speak with your brother more. I’ve tried telling Niall that ye are not the horse’s ass ye seem to be, but I fear I wasn’t too convincing.” Alex slapped Ian on the back. “Go talk to the lad.”

  “Ach!” Ian banged into the byre and found Niall brushing his horse down.

  When Niall looked up and saw him, he threw the brush against the wall.

  Ian grabbed Niall as he stormed past him. “Niall, what is—”

  “Go back to France!” Niall shouted in his face.

  Ian blocked Niall’s arm when he tried to drive his fist into Ian’s face. Before Niall could punch him with his other hand, Ian spun him around and held him by the neck. His own temper was flaming now.

  “You’re a long way from taking your big brother, so I suggest ye not try that again,” Ian hissed in Naill’s ear.

  There was no point in talking when they were both so angry, so he let his brother go.

  Ian watched Niall’s stiff back as he stalked out of the byre with his fists clenched. So much for following Alex’s advice. Ian finished brushing the horse to calm himself before going back to the house.

  By the time he got to the table, his brother and Gòrdan were sitting on either side of Sìleas, and Alex had taken the seat across from her. He sat down and glared at Alex as he started shoveling his food down.

  His mother was speaking to him, but Ian couldn’t follow what she was saying when it was plain as day that Gòrdan was set on stealing Sìleas away—right under his own roof. God’s bones, the man’s gaze never left her face.

  And what was Alex up to? He was putting on a full show of his dazzling charm. And from the way Sìl laughed at Alex’s foolish remarks, his charm was working.

  Ian could hardly choke down his food.

  Sìleas was determined to be cheerful. Damn Ian MacDonald anyway. First, he demands she ride with him, leading her to believe he was going to play the part of her husband before half the clan at the church. Then, as soon as they arrive, he sends her off as if she were still a child.

  She threw her head back and laughed at Alex’s joke, though she had missed the first half of it entirely.

  Was it too much to ask Ian to sit beside her? For five years, she’d had to listen to the women’s remarks about her missing husband. If one more matron had given her a look of sympathy today, she would have screamed right there in the church. And then the women would have even more to talk about.

  She should be used to the humiliation by now. But it had been harder than she expected to watch mother after mother bring her babe forward to be baptized, while her own arms were empty.

  Ian wasn’t even waiting for her at the church door. Fortunately,
Gòrdan had been kind enough to take her home as soon as the ordeal was over. Of course, that meant she had to suffer Gòrdan’s pleading looks, but at least he had the good sense not to press her today.

  “We need to tell them about the men we saw,” Gòrdan said in a low voice while the others were talking.

  “No,” she mouthed.

  Gòrdan didn’t look happy about it, but he’d do as she asked. She didn’t want to worry Beitris and Payton over nothing, just when they were both getting so much better. When she and Gòrdan saw the three strangers coming toward them on the path, she panicked, thinking they could be MacKinnons coming after her.

  It was foolish. Why would they come for her after all this time? All the same, she and Gòrdan slipped off the path. They took the shortcut to his house, where he gave her a nip of whiskey while his mother scowled at her.

  “What’s that you’re saying?” Ian asked, glaring at Gòrdan from the far end of the table.

  She kicked Gòrdan to remind him of his promise to say nothing.

  “That I’d best be getting home,” Gòrdan said and stood up. “My mother will be waiting.”

  She tilted her head back and gave Gòrdan a grateful smile for not telling. “Thanks for seeing me home safe.”

  No sooner had Gòrdan gone than there was a knocking at the door.

  “I’ll get it,” Alex said.

  When he opened the door, in came Dina, a woman men followed around as if she had some dark secret to share with them. Sìleas heard at the church today that Dina’s husband caught her in their bed with another man—which was no surprise to anyone but him—and tossed her out.

  Unease settled in Sìleas’s stomach when Dina dropped a heavy cloth bag inside the door.

  “Thank ye for taking me in,” Dina said, dipping her head to Ian’s mother. “I’m a good cook, and I’ll do my best to lend a hand wherever ye need it.”

  From the startled look on Beitris’s face, the invitation to join their household had not come from her.

  “Ian and I told Dina ye would be happy for her help,” Alex said.