Victoria Roberts - To Wed A Wicked Highlander

“Your wife wasnae in the garden.”

Alex’s eyes widened and he shook his head, puzzled. “What do ye mean she wasnae in the garden?”

“I stood upon the wall and I saw her with my own eyes.”

There was a heavy moment of silence.

John was never one to make a play with words. For some reason, his friend’s behavior unnerved Alex. “Well, out with it. If she wasnae in the garden, where was she?”

“The dungeon.”

Sybella closed the door to her bedchamber and threw up her hands. She couldn’t believe it. All of that hunting for the stone, and the darned thing was under her feet the entire time. How many times had she walked over the MacDonell crest? Of course Alex’s father would want to openly display his victory.

Men and their trophies.

All of this uproar—over a rock. A small part in the back of Sybella’s mind had hoped she wouldn’t find the stone and that her father was simply wrong. But now that she’d uncovered her family’s sacred seeing stone, she knew the truth of the matter. And to think, the rock had been under her father’s nose the entire time. God’s teeth! MacKenzie men had even slept upon the floor. Had her sire discovered the stone during her wedding…She shuddered at the thought. There would’ve been a massacre.

She walked over to the desk and sat down. Now that she had found the stone, she needed to make certain that Alex and his clan would be safe. Everything was now in her favor, but she still found it necessary to proceed with caution. She penned a missive to Colin, short and to the point. Once her brother read her words, he would tell her father. And she only prayed her sire would cease this madness, call off his hounds, and stop Alex from traveling to Lewis and killing an innocent MacLeod.

There was a knock on Sybella’s door and she opened it to find the messenger. She handed the man the missive. “Take this to Kintail and deliver it only to my brother, Colin. Show it to nay one else. Do ye understand?”

“Aye, m’lady.”

She watched the messenger depart and then closed the door. She lay down on the bed and sighed. In a few days this would all be over and perhaps she could start to act like the wife Alex deserved. She made a mental promise to herself that there would be no more lies between them. Knowing she had ultimately betrayed his trust, bouts of guilt continued to plague her more often than not. This whole turn of events needed to be over. Soon.

* * *

“Are ye sure?” Alex asked John for the hundredth time.

“Aye.”

Alex ran his hand through his hair. “What the hell would she be doing in the dungeon?” He paused. “And why would she lie to me?”

“I donna know.” John kept his face consciously guarded and Alex knew it.

Alex was laird, supposed to be in charge, supposed to know everything that occurred under his own roof. And if he was a good laird, he should even be able to predict things before they’d happen. The mere fact that he did not know what was going on with his own wife angered him.

He walked to Sybella’s bedchamber and didn’t even bother to knock. He simply entered through the adjoining door. She lay upon the bed, her golden locks spread out around her.

“Ella.”

She sat up abruptly. “Alex.”

“When ye told me that ye took a walk in the garden, did ye?” He folded his arms over his chest. “I will have the truth.”

Her eyes widened. “Of course I did. Why do ye ask?”

“Some of my men saw ye…leaving the dungeon.”

Her thin fingers tensed in her lap. She looked away hastily and then moved restlessly.

“Ye will answer me, and I am nae leaving until ye do.”

She looked up at him and spoke tentatively as if testing an idea. “Aye, I was in the dungeon, but I also went to the garden.”

“Why? ’Tis nay place for a woman. Ye have nay reason to be down there.”

Sybella patted the bed beside her. “Please sit, Alex.”

He sat down beside her and waited for her explanation while she chewed her lip and gathered her thoughts.

“I wanted to see it.” As he was about to open his mouth, Sybella continued. “I wanted to see where ye kept the man.”

He paused. “I told ye. He is dead.”

“I understand that, but I had to see it for myself.”

“Och, lass.” He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Ye have naught to fear. Although I take my leave to Lewis, ye have my word as your husband that ye are safe, Ella. MacGregor will be here with ye. He has Rosalia and Lachlann. He will nae let any harm befall ye and Aunt Iseabail. And now ye saw for yourself that the man is dead and gone.”

She lowered her gaze. “I must ask this of ye.” For a moment, she was silent. “Are ye certain it was the MacLeod? What if the MacLeod wasnae the man responsible?”

Alex sighed. “Ella, the archer wore the MacLeod tartan. If nae a MacLeod, why would the man wear the clan colors?” He pulled her close. “Donna fear. When I return from Lewis, this will all be over. Until then, I donna want ye thinking upon such things.”

She pulled back and brought her hand to his cheek. There was a spark of some unidentifiable emotion in her eyes. She looked as though she wanted to say something, but when he nodded for her to continue, she simply brushed her lips to his.

He pulled back and gave her a gentle smile. “I wish there was something I could say to ease your worry.”

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and simply embraced him.

* * *

Sybella wanted to tell Alex everything—how she was stupid enough to let her conniving father and brother convince her to search for the stone, how her marriage was all a bittersweet scheme to plot revenge, and how much she truly loved him. But until she got rid of that damned rock, she had to hold back. Nothing was for certain, and she couldn’t afford to take the chance.

As she sat next to Alex and Rosalia for the eve meal, she forced her eyes not to look at the MacDonell crest on the floor. For if she did, she was afraid her actions would betray her purpose.

“What are ye making for Anabel?” asked Rosalia.

“I am stitching a scarf. And I must admit, I am nae verra good at it.”

Rosalia giggled. “Aye, I know the feeling all too well.”

Ciaran leaned forward. “My wife isnae allowed to stitch my tunics. Howbeit she borrows them often.” When his eyes darkened and he kissed Rosalia, Sybella turned her head.

“How was your walk to the loch, Aunt Iseabail?” asked Sybella.

“It was verra lovely even though Lachlann slept most of the time.”

“And he would’ve stayed that way, but ye kept poking at him, Seanmhair.”

Aunt Iseabail waved her finger at Rosalia. “A grandson needs to spend time with his grandmother. Ye see him all the time. He can sleep on your watch.”

Ciaran bent his head forward. “Aye, well, when he doesnae sleep this eve, we will be sure to take him to your chamber so ye can spend more time with him.”

“I think ye make up these tales of my Lachlann. He is always a good lad.”

Rosalia laughed as Alex leaned over Sybella, tapping Rosalia on the shoulder. “How did she fare?”

Rosalia shrugged. Lowering her voice, she said, “She was having a good day and kept up with the conversation. She even recalled that she wanted to tell ye something when we returned. Of course, she forgot specifically what she wanted to say, but at least she remembered that.”

“Good. I think it helps when she walks and her mind is occupied with something. Thank ye, Cousin.”

Sybella tapped Alex’s thigh. “It seems Aunt Iseabail is having a good day.”

He smiled. “Having Rosalia and Lachlann here helps to keep my aunt’s mind busy. I think if Aunt Iseabail sits idle, her condition tends to worsen. And the fact that the woman gives Lachlann her attention directs her thoughts away from us.”

She raised her brow. “What do ye mean?”

“The fact that ye arenae with child.”

Sybella lowered her lashes, her husband’s comment leaving her with an inexplicable feeling of emptiness. She wasn’t sure exactly why, but she was somewhat saddened. Although under the current circumstances, bringing a bairn into this world was probably not the best of ideas. She felt trapped in her own lie.

She turned her head and studied Ciaran and Rosalia. Their love for each other was quite obvious. Seeing the two of them with Lachlann only further confirmed what she already knew. Instinctively, Sybella’s hand went to her stomach. When the time was right, she could only imagine how Alex would react when they were blessed with such a precious gift.

After finishing their meal, Aunt Iseabail wanted to take a walk in the garden, and Sybella couldn’t turn down another request. As Ciaran stood and pulled Lachlann from Rosalia’s arms, Sybella watched the loving family walk out of the great hall while she waited for Alex and Aunt Iseabail.

She found herself standing on the clan crest. She looked down and discreetly ran her foot over the seeing stone. It did not come as a surprise when the rock did not budge. Nothing could ever be easy. She would have to get a chisel to get the damn thing out.

* * *

Alex pulled out Aunt Iseabail’s chair and helped her to her feet. He looked up as Sybella waited, gracing him with a smile. At least his wife wasn’t turning down another opportunity to be with his family.

Aunt Iseabail took his arm, stepping down from the dais, and Alex almost stumbled when his aunt froze midstep. His arms supported her, but the woman merely stared at Sybella, who stood brushing her foot back and forth against the stone floor.

“Aunt Iseabail?”

After a long pause, his aunt finally turned to him. Her eyes displayed a liveliness that he hadn’t seen there for quite some time. “I must speak with ye alone with much haste, Nephew.” And with that, she turned on her heel and ambled toward his study.

“Ella, I will meet ye in the garden.”

Sybella’s eyes were gentle, understanding. “Are ye sure?”

“Aye.”

Alex followed Aunt Iseabail into his study. She walked over to the chair and then, as if she had a second thought not to sit, started to pace. Her behavior started to unnerve him.

She gestured toward the door. “Close it.”

“What is this about? What is wrong?” He shut the door and walked over to her, taking her arm. “Please sit, Aunt.”

She wiggled her way out of his hold. “Alexander, please stop forcing me to sit. Will ye listen? I must tell ye something.”

He sat down on the edge of the desk. “What is it?”

“The stone. Ye asked me about a stone.”

He became instantly wide awake. “Aye, I did. Do ye remember?”

“Seeing Sybella made me…” Aunt Iseabail shook her head. “Dòmhnall could ne’er understand how the MacKenzie got away with things. The man always seemed to know to steal from our clan when it hurt the most—before the winter or before the harvest. My brother thought mayhap it was purely dumb luck, but several years ago, Dòmhnall heard tales from…I think it was a MacLeod that the MacKenzie had a seer in his clan. Ye know our family struggled to survive, sometimes barely able to make ends meet. Howbeit the MacKenzies were always blessed with good fortune. Do ye nae find that odd, Nephew? Dòmhnall believed it was the result of the seer.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “A seer? Ye donna need a seer to know when ’tis best to raid and plunder from a clan. I have ne’er known Father to embrace such tales. Tell me more about this stone.”

She waved her hand at him. “Silence, Alexander.”

He folded his arms over his chest while Aunt Iseabail continued to speak.

“I think one of the MacKenzie maids ran away and married a MacLeod, but I cannae remember all of it. At any rate, this seer could only foretell when he held a particular stone.”

“Aunt Iseabail, I’m sure ’tis only a story to tell the wee bairns at night. Surely ye donna believe this. Granted, we live in the Highlands and I have certainly seen things that I cannae explain. But to have me believe there is a stone which this seer uses to foretell the future is—”

“God’s teeth, lad, but ye are impatient,” she bit out. “Ye remind me much of your father. Dòmhnall told me years ago when we burnt down the MacKenzie’s church that he found the stone. This relic was of such importance to the MacKenzie clan that my brother trusted nay one. I was the only person he told and we spoke of it once.”