Debbie Mazzuca Bundle, page 16
Chapter 14
As they neared the edge of the clearing and Dunvegan loomed before them, Rory stopped. They could go no farther without being seen and he needed to touch her, look into her eyes one more time before he said good-bye. It had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, not to kiss her lips, to find a soft place to lay her down and love her like he wanted to. But he knew if he did, he’d never be able to let her go, and he would not dishonor Moira, or Aileanna, by lying with her
He brought their entwined hands to his lips, and kissed her palm. She looked up at him, moisture gathered in her eyes, and he framed her face. “You promised.”
She attempted a smile, but her bottom lip quivered and she caught it between her perfect white teeth. “I didn’t…didn’t think it would be this hard.”
He groaned, and pulled her against him, burying his face in her silky hair, breathing her in as though to keep some part of her with him. “Doona’ be angry, lass, but I pray Angus sends word soon. I canna’ bear to think you suffer because of what I must do.”
She tipped her head back and placed two fingers on his lips. “Don’t worry, Rory, I won’t be here much longer. And if this is to be our good-bye, there’s something I have to ask you to do for me. I need you to make me a promise.”
“What is it, Aileanna? I would give you whatever you want, you must ken that.”
“There’s only one thing I want, but you and I both know it can’t happen. We weren’t meant to be.” She gave him a sad smile. “But there is something you can do for me that will make it easier for me to leave.”
“What would that be?”
Her gaze was intent as she held his. “You have to promise me, if anyone comes to you with a complaint against Moira, you’ll listen. And that you won’t give her control over Dunvegan when you’re away from home. She—”
“I ken Mrs. Mac and Fergus have their reservations, but you doona’ ken her, Aileanna. She means well. She but tries to please me.”
Her skepticism was evident in the look she gave him. “Please, just give me your promise. You’re a man of your word, and all I ask is you give it to me on this.”
He sighed, shaking his head. “Aye…aye, I will do as you ask.”
The sound of men’s voices in the courtyard drew his attention and he said, “’Tis time, mo chridhe.”
She reached up on the tips of her toes to brush her soft lips over his. “Good-bye, Rory. Be happy and stay well,” she said against his mouth.
He threaded his fingers through her long hair to cradle her head and gaze into her beautiful blue eyes. Rory had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted Aileanna. He yearned to deepen the gentle kiss, ravage her mouth and mark her as his, but he couldn’t, not without causing both of them more heartache.
“Good-bye, mo chridhe.”
With difficulty he stepped away from her, and together they crossed the courtyard. The night was still, the men’s voices fading off into the distance, the only sound the clicking of Aileanna’s heels as they struck the stone. He reached out to assist her on the steps, but she shook her head without looking at him. As he pushed the doors open the ache in his chest grew, and he hoped all were abed. His hopes were dashed when Mrs. Mac, Fergus, and Iain rushed into the entranceway, followed by Cyril, Moira, and Aidan, who gave him a knowing look.
“Och, now, Lady Aileanna, you’ve been cryin’. What has that big oaf done to you?” Mrs. Mac cried, scowling at him. She drew Aileanna into her protective embrace.
Fergus and Iain took a threatening step toward him.
“No more than she deserves, I’d imagine,” Moira said, smiling like a cat that’d swallowed a wee warbler. “And ye willna’ speak to yer laird in that manner, Mrs. Macpherson.”
Rory was about to intervene, not wanting the tension to escalate, but Mrs. Mac didn’t give him a chance. “Och, and I’ll speak to him any way I please. I’ve been doin’ so since he was in nappies, and you’ll no’ be tellin’ me different.”
Moira’s incensed gaze shot to Mrs. Mac and Aileanna, and then back to Rory, as though she waited for him to explain, or at least intercede on her behalf, but it was Aileanna who took it upon herself to defuse the situation.
Once she managed to extricate herself from Mrs. Mac, she said, “I was out for a walk and tripped. Lord MacLeod came to my rescue, nothing more. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to bed.”
“Good sleep, Aileanna,” Rory said to her retreating back. He clenched his hands at his sides lest he reach out to her.
Her eyes met his over her shoulder. “To you, too, Lord MacLeod. To you, too.” Her voice was low and husky.
Mrs. Mac sniffed. “My apologies, Laird MacLeod, and my thanks fer yer assistin’ my lady.” She turned on her heel and hurried after Aileanna.
Fergus’s and Iain’s thunderous expressions relaxed, but the MacLeans were none too pleasant to look upon.
“Ye were alone with…that woman?” Moira shrieked.
“Now, poppet, he came to her rescue is all,” her brother soothed. Giving Rory a pointed look over her head, he added, “I’m certain my sister will no’ be so sensitive once the papers have been signed.”
“’Twill be done on the morrow. Now if you will excuse me, I wish to retire fer the evenin’.” Ignoring Fergus, Iain, and his cousin’s looks of astonishment, he walked away without another word.
Ali’s muscles strained and burned as she and Connor, under Mrs. Mac’s unrelenting supervision, moved another piece of heavy furniture. They deposited the trunk beneath the floral tapestry the older woman had appropriated from another room. Ali straightened and kneaded her lower back. “Are we done now?”
“Och, you doona’ need to be so prickly, my lady. Doona’ you think yer chambers look bonny?”
“Fit for a princess.” They were. Mrs. Mac had determined Ali’s new accommodations would be better than the ones she’d been forced to leave, and Ali didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t necessary. She wouldn’t be there much longer. She couldn’t be, not after last night.
“Or lady of the keep.” Mrs. Mac smiled smugly.
Ali’s eyes widened. “Are you telling me we’ve been breaking our backs readying the room for Lady MacLean?”
Mrs. Mac rolled her eyes. “Nay.”
Ali sighed. “Mrs. Mac, he’s marrying her whether you like it or not. They’re signing the papers today.”
“Curious thing, that. The papers have gone missin’.”
Wide-eyed, Ali watched as the older woman sauntered toward the door, a self-satisfied smile on her lips. She shook her head. No matter what Mrs. Mac had done, the union would go ahead. Rory would not let anything stand in the way of him protecting his clan.
“Connor, I’ll send Mari up so you doona’ need to go lookin’ fer her. She was givin’ me a hand with the other rooms,” Mrs. Mac said as she closed the door behind her.
Connor bent over the trunk, making a show of rearranging it, his ears pink. “I wasna’ lookin’ fer her. I doona’ ken why Mrs. Mac said such a thin’,” he muttered in a disgruntled voice.
Ali bit back a smile. “I’m sure Mrs. Mac knows that, but, Connor, I’m glad you’re watching out for Mari. You’ve been a good friend to her.” Knowing Mari was well looked after made it easier for Ali to leave, and leaving must now be her only focus. She couldn’t remain at Dunvegan any longer. If she did, her heart would never recover. At the rate you’re going, you might not have much of a choice, the voice in her head reminded her.
Ali sat down heavily on the edge of the four-poster bed. It was true. She hadn’t gotten any information about the location of the fairy flag from Iain. Not that she’d pushed very hard. Mrs. Mac had been only too happy to inform her that Rory and Iain had almost come to blows over her. Ali was resigned to find another way. She wouldn’t cause a rift between the brothers. What she needed was someone who wouldn’t suspect what she was up to.
A resounding thud caused the mattress to bounce.
“Connor, what on earth—” Connor—of course. “Here, let me help you.” She hopped off the bed and righted the small table he’d knocked over.
Patting a chair, she said, “Come and have a rest.” Ali pulled up a stool and sat across from him. “You’re a big help, Connor. Lord MacLeod must be glad to have you with him.”
The boy shrugged. “I suppose.”
“I’m sure he is. How long have you been at Dunvegan?”
He furrowed his brow. “Since I was a wee lad, a verra long time.”
“You have a lot of responsibility for someone so young. Lord MacLeod places a great deal of trust in you.”
“I’m no’ so young, my lady. I’m sixteen.”
She grinned. “You’re right, you’re very old.” Pausing, Ali concentrated on pulling her features into a pensive expression.
“My lady, are ye no’ feelin’ well?”
Obviously her acting skills needed work. “I’m just a little concerned is all.”
“Aboot what? Mayhap I can be of some help.” He leaned toward her. Elbows propped on his knees, he regarded her with heartwarming sincerity.
Ali choked back a sob. There was so much she would miss when she left. “Maybe you can, but you must promise not to tell anyone of my suspicions.”
He nodded.
“You know about the fairy flag, don’t you?” She held her breath.
His eyes widened. “Aye, ye ken aboot the flag?”
“Of course, Ro—Lord MacLeod told me all about it. And that’s what concerns me, Connor. I think Lady MacLean knows about the flag as well and means to use it as a way to force Lord MacLeod into the union.”
“I doona’ think she needs much to force his hand. As I hear it the papers will be signed this day.”
Damn.
“But the papers are missing, and she might get desperate. I’m sure that’s what she was doing when she had everyone cleaning the keep from top to bottom yesterday. She was searching for the flag, Connor. I’m sure of it.”
“She’ll no’ find it. She wouldna’ enter the laird’s chambers without his permission. Besides, ’tis well concealed. The wall—” He clamped his mouth shut.
Bingo.
Ali rose from the chair, anxious to begin her search. She schooled her features. “That’s a relief. I should’ve known Lord MacLeod would do everything he could to protect the flag. I’ve kept you long enough, Connor. You’ve been a great help. Thank you.”
“’Twas no’ a problem, my lady, I—”
The door squeaked open and they both turned to see Mari, one foot over the threshold, frantically motioning for someone to follow her. “Ye must let my lady see to ye,” she urged.
Ali frowned. “What’s going on, Mari?” She moved toward the door and gasped when Mari gently guided one of the serving girls into the room, bloody linens pressed to her face. It was one of the girls Ali had worked with in the kitchens. One of the three that had attacked Mari. “Good Lord, what happened? Bring her here,” Ali said, holding out a chair. Connor took hold of the girl’s arm and helped her to sit.
“Tilt your head—that’s it.” Ali carefully removed the blood-soaked linens and sucked in a ragged breath. A deep, six-inch gash sliced from just above her brow to her cheekbone, barely missing her eye.
Mari twisted her blood-spattered apron in her hands. “I had her press the linens to the wound like you did fer me, my lady.”
Ali reached over to squeeze Mari’s arm. “You did exactly right,” she reassured her. “Now I’ll need a bucket of water, and make sure you boil it. And the herbs I used to keep Lord MacLeod asleep, I’ll need those, too. Connor, you remember the ones I mean?” At his affirmative nod, she continued. “A needle and thread and some of that…Uisge na beatha, I think Fergus called it. Anyway, ask Mrs. Mac. She’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“Nay!” The girl gave a strangled cry. “No one can ken. She’ll kill me.”
“Shh, now.” Ali patted her shoulder. “No one is going to kill you. Mari, what’s going on?”
“’Tis Lady MacLean who done it. She told Ina she’d kill her if she said anythin’. Told her to see to it on her own, but I made her come to ye. I said as how ye would protect her.”
Ali’s hands balled into fists, and she had to take a calming breath before she said or did something she’d regret. Crouching beside the girl, she took her hands in hers. “Ina, we’re going to take care of your cut, and for now no one will know, but Lady MacLean can’t be allowed to get away with this. Whatever I do, I promise you won’t suffer because of it.”
“Ye didna’ see her eyes, my lady. She looked crazed.”
“I can imagine.” Ali stood up and removed the linen, relieved to see the bleeding had slowed. “Do you know what set her off?”
“Aye, the papers were missin’ from Lord MacLeod’s study and she was in a rage, castin’ blame on us fer cleanin’ near his desk.”
Dear God, do you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Rory? Leaving him was hard enough, but knowing what his life would be like made it that much more difficult. But maybe he wouldn’t care. He’d have the men to help fight his battles. He’d have done his duty.
Once Ali finished stitching Ina’s cut, with Connor and Mari’s help she settled the girl into her bed despite her groggy protests. “Mari and Connor will stay with you while you rest. I won’t be long.”
“My lady, please take care. I doona’ want her to harm ye,” Ina pleaded.
“You don’t have to worry about me, Ina, but I can’t say the same for Lady MacLean.”
Mari giggled behind her hand, and Connor gave a snort of laughter. “Give it to her good, my lady.”
“I plan on it, Connor. Now do either of you know where I might find her ladyship?”
“Mrs. Mac was grumblin’ as to how she had to show her the gardens. They’d be to the back of the keep, my lady,” Connor informed her.
Ali descended the stairs, avoiding the servants who scurried about as best she could, afraid someone would question her as to what she was about. She bowed her head and hurried past Rory’s study. As she did, she heard voices raised in anger, and recognized two of them as Rory’s and Cyril’s. Good, she thought, grateful the men were occupied. It was time Moira MacLean got what was coming to her. Mrs. Mac had been right from the beginning. Men didn’t see clearly when it came to the woman.
Hurrying out the doors of the keep, she spotted Fergus. Trying not to attract his attention, Ali lowered her head and strode to the opposite side of the castle.
“Aileanna.” Fergus waved to her from across the courtyard. “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“The gardens.” She smiled and kept on walking.
“Hold up there, lass,” he said, closing the distance between them. “Aileanna, mayhap it would be best if you were to see the gardens at another time.” He took hold of her elbow and turned her back toward the entrance of the castle.
She shook his hand off. “Fergus, don’t be silly. It’s a beautiful day to visit the gardens. I hoped to find a small patch where I could add some of the plants I’d read about in the book Iain lent me. Actually he read it to me, too. Remember, the one the physician from Edinburgh wrote? Where I found the herbs to drug Rory—well, not drug him, but you know what I mean.” She waved her hand.
He narrowed his gaze and crossed his arms. “What are you up to?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yer ramblin’, lass. You do it when you have somethin’ to hide. Now tell me.”
“No, and you can’t stop me. Omph,” she grunted when he flipped her over his shoulder and marched determinedly toward the keep.
With a cry of outrage, Ali pounded on his back.
“Stop yer caterwaulin’. You were goin’ to make trouble with Moira MacLean, and doona’ deny it. I can see it on yer face. And if you do, Rory will have yer head.”
She kicked her feet. “You don’t understand.” He whacked her soundly on her bottom. “Ouch, Fergus, that hurt,” she cried.
“Then stop yer kickin’, lass. Those parts I’m a mite fond of,” he said as he pushed open the doors to the keep.
“Bloody hell, Fergus. What’s goin’ on here? Put Aileanna down.”
“Nay, I think it would be best if I lock her in her room and let her cool down fer a wee bit.”
“Like hell you will. Put me down.” She slapped him on the back and gave him another kick for good measure.
“Eh, Fergus, watch yer bollocks, mon.” Someone laughed, and Ali was certain it was Rory’s cousin.
Whack.
“Fergus!” she yelped, covering her behind.
“That’s enough.” Big hands locked on her waist and hauled her from Fergus’s shoulder to set her upright. “Now one of you will tell me what is the meanin’ of this?”
Ali glared at Fergus, who glared right back at her. She pushed the hair from her face with an angry swipe of her hand and met Rory’s unamused gaze.
“I’m waitin’.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, showing no sign of what had passed between them the night before.
“Ali, what happened? You have blood on yer gown?” Iain asked, concern in his voice as he pushed past his brother.
Rory’s gaze racked over her as though he searched for a wound.
“It’s not mine.” She stepped around Iain. “You made me a promise, Rory, and I’m holding you to it. I have a complaint against Moira that must be addressed.”
“What is it that yer sayin’ aboot my sister?” Cyril cried in a high-pitched voice.
“She threw a goblet at Ina, one of the serving girls. She needed stitches and was lucky she didn’t lose her eye. Lady MacLean threatened to kill her if she went to anyone about it.”
Cyril looked from her to Rory. “’Tis no’ but an accident. Yer jealous and tryin’ to make trouble fer my sister is all.”
Her gaze locked onto Rory’s. The muscle in his clenched jaw pulsated. “You promised.”
“Aye,” he grunted, drawing his attention away from her at the sound of Moira’s and Mrs. Mac’s voices headed in their direction. He jerked his chin, and Fergus and Iain took hold of her arms.
