Maybe This Time, page 13
At the first stirrings of conflict, James planted himself at Lady Buchannan’s side. His father glared at him, but James refused to move.
The barrel-chested lord grunted his displeasure. “You don’t regret giving your pledge to a woman, James?”
“Nay, I don’t. You’ve seen her skill and courage. Would you regret your pledge to her?”
“She’s a woman.” The MacMillian’s shout threatened to topple James from his feet.
“Aye,” James responded, grinning appreciatively. “She is that.”
The gathered men chuckled.
“And you are a fool!” James’s father shot back.
“A fool?” James guffawed. “I’m no fool, my lord. Lady Buchannan’s training has served me well. I have learned much about defense under her direction.” He looked at his father’s injured arm pointedly. “Enough to survive at least this battle without injury.”
Kevan stifled a groan. With aid like young James was giving, he’d be at war with the MacMillians before the moon rose full.
The wounded lord leveled his son with a hard glare. Kevan waited, feeling tension build between his men and the MacMillians. The lord would either kill his son--in which case, Kevan would have to kill the lord—or he’d praise him. And from his expression, James’s father could go either way.
“So you have escaped injury. ‘Tis your duty to stay fit to serve your laird.” MacMillian turned to Lady Buchannan and dropped to one knee on the ground. “And to serve his wife.”
The tension drained from Kevan’s body. The MacMillian warriors followed their lord’s lead, dropping down on one knee and crossing their hearts with their right hands. In unison, they paid homage, pledging their loyalty to his wife.
Lord MacMillian stood up, took to his horse, then shouted in a gruff voice from his stallion’s back. “Duncan, train him hard. My son has much to learn about risking the wrath of his lord.”
“As best I am able, Lord MacMillian,” Duncan shouted back.
Alyssa whispered to Kevan. “You’ve not yet told Duncan his fate?”
“Nay.”
“But—”
“Hush, wife. I will tell him soon. Him fearing his punishment a little longer is not so costly a repayment, now is it?”
Alyssa’s expression soured and she muttered. “Nay, husband. It is not.” She put her hand on his forearm. “But, please, not overly long.”
That she’d touched him pleased Kevan. And she wasn’t trembling. He smiled down at her. “Nay, wife. Not overly long.”
Six
“WHY DON’T you sit down, Lady Buchannan?”
“I can’t, David.” Alyssa worried a path near the fire. What was taking so long? She looked down at David, working near the fire at softening a stiff, new saddle. “Might you call me Alyssa?”
“All right, Alyssa. But your pacing a trench in the soil isn’t going to bring Kevan out of the wood any sooner.”
“Poor Duncan. Kevan won’t hurt him will he? I mean, really hurt him. It’s true his shouts could fell trees, but if Kevan struck him—well, Duncan would never raise his hand to his laird. Not even in defense.” That worrisome thought had her pacing double-time. “He’s a good man.”
“Aye, he is. Kevan has—”
“Kevan?” She frowned. “Not Kevan, David. ‘Twas Duncan I meant.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t you see? This is all my fault.” She swept her hair back from her face and rubbed at her temple. “Oh, why did I let Kevan talk to Duncan alone?”
“Let him?” David asked. Didn’t the woman know that an entire clan couldn’t stop Kevan Buchannan once his mind was set?
Alyssa sighed. “You might not have noticed, David, but Kevan is a wee bit upset with Duncan right now.”
“Sweet Christ, a wee bit upset?”
Alyssa’s frown changed to an incredulous look. “You hadn’t noticed? Well, trust me on this, David. He is. Poor Duncan.”
“Poor Duncan? Lady Alyssa, a stone would know the laird is angry enough to murder the man. He deceived his laird. Sweet Christ, it’s a miracle the man’s still breathing.”
Alyssa’s lower lip started quivering. “But Kevan gave me his word.”
David’s expression softened. His lady was truly worried. “Rest easy then, my lady. If Kevan gave his word, Duncan will not die by the laird’s hand.”
“When he’s angry, is it just prattling?” Her voice trembled. “I—I mean, does he execute his threats?”
“I’ve never known him to make a threat he wouldn’t carry out, my lady. But if Kevan gave his word, Duncan is safe.”
“He did. He promised.” She flashed David a weak smile. “Besides, he’s only a wee bit upset.”
Resigned to easing her fears, David agreed. “Aye, only a wee bit.”
“Kevan’s a man of honor. Of course, he will be reasonable—won’t he?”
David scratched his neck. The Buchannan reasonable? Deciding he’d best not answer that, David compromised. “Aye, he’s a man of honor.”
“Oh God, I wish I could be sure.” She turned and nervously jabbed at the fire’s embers with a crooked stick. “Not that I doubt your word, but, well, to be honest, David, Kevan was a wee bit more than a just a wee bit upset.”
“Aye,” David agreed. He’d listened to his laird rave for hours. “A wee bit more, to be sure.”
“You doubt my word?”
Alyssa spun around. Kevan stood alone, his legs braced, thunder in his expression. She tried to look past him, but her giant husband planted himself so all she could see was his chest. “Where is Duncan, Kevan?”
“You doubt my word?” He repeated his question in a shout.
She glared up at him. “I was just worried. Where is Duncan?”
Kevan’s nostrils flared. “Gone.”
“Gone?” She sent him a blank look.
“Gone.”
Alyssa’s heart stopped. Duncan was gone. Kevan had killed him, anyway! He’d lied to her, and killed him, anyway. Her voice grew lethally soft. “Gone, Kevan?”
“I left him in the clearing.”
“You what?” She squeezed her hands into fists. “You left Duncan. I expected that of the raiders, but not from you.” She turned and let out an ear-piercing whistle. “And David said you were a man of honor.”
David watched her stomp away. “Where is she going?”
“To find truth.” Kevan pursed his lips, his mind clearly far away.
“There’s no saddle,” David warned, seeing his lady mount her mare. “She’ll break her neck.”
“Nay, curse or blessing, she won’t.” Kevan sat down and called for food.
“But—”
Kevan lifted a quelling hand. “She’s capable.”
David tossed the saddle soap aside. “She thinks you’ve killed him.”
“I know.”
“But you didn’t.” David hated to admit it, but he wasn’t at all sure.
“I gave my word.”
“Then why—”
“She doubted me. The hellion must learn my value herself. Telling her would do no good.”
David shook his head. “It seems a cruel way to treat a new bride. But, no doubt, you have your reasons.”
“No doubt.”
ALYSSA SCOURED the wood and found no trace of Duncan. Had the Cameron warriors already retrieved his body?
Hot tears, anger and fear, warred in her. Squeezing her knees, she turned Streak and headed for the Cameron campsite.
Thundering past the Buchannan camp, she refused to spare her husband a glance, though from the corner of her eye, she saw him eating a fair dinner. How could the lout eat? He’d just killed the finest man who’d walked this earth!
Near the Cameron campsite, Sewn was preparing the horses to leave. Alyssa called out to him. “Sewn, wait! Where is Duncan?”
“Resting peaceful, my lady,” he shouted, then pointed, stabbing the air. “Up ahead.”
It was true, then. Kevan had killed him. Oh God, Duncan was dead!
Alyssa felt numb. She nudged Streak forward. Slowly feeling returned, and with it came cold fury. Her husband or no, Kevan Buchannan would rue this day. He was not a man of honor. He was arrogant. A liar. And, as God was her judge, he would pay for taking Duncan’s life.
She saw her faithful second, resting peacefully on the ground as Sewn had said. She slid down from Streak’s back, unable to look away. Her heart wrenched, ached deeper than any pain she’d ever suffered.
At his side, she fell to her knees and buried her face in his chest. “Oh, Duncan. I’m so sorry. I’ll never forgive myself for trusting him. Never.”
A strong arm closed around her back. A shiver crept up her spine. “Duncan?” She reared back, and saw his eyes. “Duncan!”
Her tears began in earnest. So did her rambling.
The old warrior frowned. “Slow down, my lady. I can’t make sense of your prattle.”
“He said you were gone,” she cried in broken sobs. “He said he’d left you in the wood. Oh, Duncan. I thought he’d killed you.”
“Killed me? Nay, I gave my pledge—”
“But you’d already given him your pledge.”
“Not as a lord.”
Alyssa gasped. “A lord?” She clutched great handfuls of his plaid. “Kevan made you lord of Cameron?”
“Aye.” A smile peeked out of a crack his wiry gray beard.
“That blasted man.” She thunked a fist against Duncan’s chest.
His breath swooshed out, and Duncan’s smile faded. “You don’t want me to lord Cameron?”
“Oh, yes, Duncan.” She firmed her jaw. “I do. No better man exists.” She swiped at the tears on her cheeks with an angry hand. “‘Tis Kevan I curse, not you. I should ram my sword through his heartless gut.”
Duncan’s voice grew hard. “I will not permit that, my lady.”
“He let me think he’d killed you.”
“You must be mistaken, lass.” Duncan patted her arm on his shoulder. “Our laird is not cruel.”
“He is cruel. A vile specimen, I tell you.”
Duncan let her pace and rant for a full half-hour before he interrupted. “Sit down, my lady. And shut up.”
Alyssa’s jaw fell slack. “What?”
“Do it.”
Alyssa dropped where she stood. Duncan lowered himself beside her on the ground, then took her tiny hand in his. In all her twenty-two years, he’d never told her to shut up.
His expression was grave. “Did your husband say he’d killed me?”
Alyssa thought back to Kevan’s exact words, then shifted uncomfortably. “Well, no. Not exactly.”
“Well, what exactly did he say?”
Heat scorched her cheeks. “He said you were gone. That he’d left you in the wood.” She frowned. “What was I supposed to think?”
“He spoke the truth. He did leave me in the wood. And I expect he meant I’d gone home, my lady.”
“Gone means gone, Duncan. He knew what he was doing. He wanted me to think you dead.”
“Now why would he want you think that, do you suppose?”
Alyssa lowered her gaze to the dirt. “He was angry with me.”
“Mmm, and would you be knowing why?”
Her face pinched in a proper pout, she looked up. “It was his fault. He—he . . .” Was it his fault? Well, pity. She lowered her gaze to the dirt. “I doubted his honor.”
“You what?” Duncan groaned. “Dear God, what are you about, Alyssa Buchannan? When it comes to men, have you no sense? You should trust your husband.”
Alyssa stiffened. “He hasn’t earned my trust.”
“You married him. You gave him your vow, my lady.”
She had given him her vow. “But—”
Duncan pressed his fingertips over her lips, halting her words. “He’s your husband, lass. Trust him.”
Ashamed of herself, Alyssa swallowed hard, then nodded.
Duncan lowered his hand. “I must go. Cameron lies vulnerable in my absence.”
“Aye.” Alyssa stood up. “Duncan, I’m happy Cameron will be in your care. It soothes me knowing my people will be safe.”
Duncan gave her a reassuring look. “Your father is safe, too, my lady. As is Lady Megan. Father Aldwyn goes with me to Cameron. When he returns to you, I’ll send news of them.”
Alyssa blinked to keep threatening tears from falling. She wrapped her arms around Duncan’s waist and pressed her lips to his shoulder. “Thank you, my lord.”
Duncan raised her head and again pressed his fingers to her lips. “Go to your husband, my lady. Be open with your heart. He deserves your trust.”
Though terrified of his response, Alyssa must tell Duncan what she’d seen. He was a lord now. He must be prepared. “Duncan, you do not know what I saw before Kevan and I wed.”
Duncan smiled. “Aye, I do. In the wood, you saw your husband talking with the white-haired man.”
“Aye!”
Duncan nodded. “I was there, too.”
“You were? Then you saw—” She gripped his forearm and squeezed. “The man had no eyes, Duncan! Did you see that?”
“No eyes? Nay, my lady. He had eyes brighter than the noon sun.”
“He didn’t! I saw through his sockets, Duncan. Clean through!”
“To me, they were bright, my lady.” Duncan shrugged. “An angel by my reckoning.”
“Good God, you sound so—”
“Calm?” Duncan suggested. “Mayhap. You don’t live as long as I have without realizing there’s more in this world you don’t understand than there is that you do.”
“An angel?” Alyssa considered it, then worried her lip with her teeth. “I don’t know, Duncan.”
“Listen to me,” Duncan said, growing firm. “Your husband is special, Alyssa. Follow him. Think with your heart and your head but, in the end, follow him. There, you’ll find contentment.”
“Duncan, you sound so strange.” She cocked her head and slid him a perplexed look. “Not at all like you, but you, nonetheless.”
She looked at his neck. A crystal amulet like Kevan’s hung in the soft hollow of his throat from a leather strip coiling around his neck. She touched the stone, looked up into his eyes, and saw wisdom. “Duncan,” she whispered, stroking the creased skin near his eyes. “I’ll follow him. I give you my vow.”
The old warrior smiled. “You have pleased me greatly, lass.”
Her voice choked. “I’ll miss you.”
“We’ll meet again, my lady. That, I vow.”
“Kevan once asked me if I loved you. I told him I didn’t know what love was.” She looked up from the ground into his eyes. “But if I did know, I would love you, Duncan. I really would.”
“Aye, I ken your meaning, lass.” He dragged a rough thumb along her jaw. “Have faith in your humble servant. You will know love.”
His words confused her, but before she could ask him to explain, Duncan looked past her shoulder. “He waits, my lady.”
“Who?”
“Your husband.”
Alyssa turned and saw Kevan astride his stallion. The beast was hands taller than any other she’d seen, and on him, Kevan looked every bit the warlord from Hell she’d feared him.
“Come,” he said.
Alyssa gave Duncan a loving hug. “God speed.”
“My lady.” Duncan crossed his chest with his hand.
Again she noticed his amulet. He’d not worn it before. Was it a symbol of Kevan’s lords? Nay, not her father, Innes, nor the MacMillian wore such amulets. Only Kevan and Duncan. Why was that?
Alyssa stopped beside Kevan’s horse and let the powerful beast sniff her hand.
“Careful,” Kevan warned her. “He doesn’t take well to strangers.”
Alyssa smiled up at him and stroked the horse’s nose. “We are not strangers, are we? What’s his name, Kevan?”
“He’s a horse, wife. He has no name.”
That comment had her giving him a good glare. “Every living thing deserves a name of its own.” She stroked the horse and her expression softened. “He’s beautiful. Mayhap you should call him that.”
“Beautiful?” Kevan guffawed. “I’ll not ride an animal named Beautiful, Alyssa Buchannan.”
“Well, you can’t call him horse.” She rubbed the beast’s neck. “So what will you call him?”
“Mine. Just as I call you.” Kevan reached for her. “Now get up here.”
“I’m not sure I like being compared to a horse you won’t even name.”
“Alyssa,” he warned.
“Oh, all right.” She walked over to where he could lift her, and grabbed hold of his muscular arms. “Have a care not to rip your stitches.”
When he’d settled her in front of him, she stiffened her spine, refusing to touch him any more than she had to. “There, I’m here. Are you happy?”
“Aye, I am.” The awful man grinned at her. “And my stitches are fine.”
He spurred the horse, and they rode out of the camp. On the other side of the copse of trees, she turned to look at him. “Where is Streak?”
“What streak?”
She let out an exasperated little sigh. “My mare, Kevan.”
He looked serious, but there was a strange glint in his eye. “Gone.”
Oh God, not again with his gone. Alyssa bristled. Another test. He was forcing her to ask, which, she supposed, she should have done about Duncan, too. That had been a mistake she wouldn’t repeat. “Where has she gone, Kevan?”
“To my holding. David will care for her.”
She refused to turn to look at him, but by his tone she knew he was pleased that she hadn’t railed at him again. “And are we going to your holding, too?”
“Aye.”
“Is it far?”
“Nay.” He slid his hand around her waist and splayed his fingers across her stomach. “We’re on Buchannan lands now.”
Those stirrings in her belly were driving her mad. “Why does Father Aldwyn return with Duncan? Don’t you trust your new lord-vassal?”
“Aye, I trust him. Elsewise he’d not lord at Cameron. ‘Tis you I wanted Aldwyn away from.”
