Victoria Roberts - To Wed A Wicked Highlander

“I donna know. I have nay choice. ’Tis time to have speech with my father. I am mad with worry.” He put out the torch as Mary lifted her skirts and ran hastily up the steps. He was somewhat surprised that his cousin’s wife, who regularly preached about propriety, had remained by his side in the dungeon. This was the first time he had seen her throw caution to the wind. It was apparent that Mary was as worried about Sybella as he was. They proceeded to the great hall as Colin mentally prepared himself to confront his father.

“Lady Mary…”

Colin turned to see the cook standing with her young daughter by her side. The girl’s arms were wrapped around her mother’s waist. When the woman spotted him, she flinched and took a step back before his obviously frantic expression.

She lowered her voice as Mary approached. “My apologies, m’lady, but ’tis difficult to work on the meal for the morrow with all of that screaming. And pardon me for saying so, m’lady, but having my daughter hear that over and over isnae good for young ears. That ‘thalla gu taigh na galla.’” Go to hell.

Mary looked at Colin, and he raced to the one place that had haunted him as a child.

* * *

Sybella could no longer scream. Her voice had deserted her, the same as her husband. Darkness enveloped her and the muck swathed her. And when the smell no longer bothered her, that’s when she knew no one was coming for her.

She closed her eyes and wanted to succumb to blackness. She prayed the gods would take her now. She was no longer frightened and no longer angry, and her throat ached with defeat. Her mind was languid, without hope. Her head was bowed, her body slumped in despair.

The pain in her heart was a sick and fiery gnawing, but it could’ve been one of the rats that crawled on top of her. The last traces of resistance had banished and she had given up all hope. She was lost.

She wanted to die.

Her only regret was that Alexander would never know how much she loved him. When she finally spoke the truth, he hadn’t believed her. There were too many lies. She’d betrayed him. Her own husband. And for what? For a clan who didn’t give a damn about her and threw her away like a piece of garbage.

Being in the pit was a fate far worse than death. She sat in hell with no means of escape, wondering if her father would bury her or let her mind and body decay down here with the rats. If Sybella had a knife, she would put an end to this brutal torture.

She placed her head back on the slimy wall as something with legs crawled in her hair. And taking one last breath, she realized she didn’t care.

* * *

Some part in the back of Colin’s mind couldn’t fathom the cook’s words. His sister had been thrown into the pit. He was breathless with rage. His heart hammered against his chest and his breathing was labored.

He threw open the gate from the floor and lowered the ladder. “Ella…” He wasn’t sure what frightened him more: that Sybella didn’t charge up the ladder or that she didn’t respond.

“Sybella,” called Mary.

Colin didn’t hesitate. He climbed down the ladder and couldn’t see a damn thing. “Ella…Dear God, Ella, please answer me. Come to me, Sister, and escape this madness.” He lowered his hand and then realized she probably couldn’t even see it.

“Did ye find her?” asked Mary from above.

“Nay. I cannae see and she doesnae respond. Ella, are ye here?”

He stepped off the ladder and almost slid in place. He reached out in front of him, but it was so dark. He shuffled his feet and almost stumbled over what he thought felt like a leg. How he prayed it was Sybella’s. He knelt down and found an arm. “’Tis all right, Ella. I am going to get ye out of here.”

He gently lifted her to her feet and she was limp in his arms. “Mary, I have her. Steady the ladder.” He bent down and hefted Sybella over his shoulder and then turned, fumbling for the ladder. “Hold on, Sister. ’Tis all right.” Colin climbed out from the depths of hell, and when he reached the top, Mary gasped.

“Oh, Sybella.”

He lowered his sister to the ground and propped her up against the wall. Mary brushed away her own tears and knelt down beside Sybella. Looking up at him, Mary smothered a sob.

“How could he do this? How?”

Colin studied Sybella, who sat with a glazed expression upon her face. She still wore her nightrail, which was caked with muck. She was filthy. Her hair was matted, and every spot of her ivory skin was covered with something unthinkable. When a centipede slithered its way from under her hair, Colin reached over and grabbed it. He threw it to the ground and crushed it under his boot.

Mary’s eyes widened and she told the cook to have a maid draw a bath for Sybella.

Anger lit Colin’s eyes and he replied sharply, “Are ye able to care for her?”

Mary nodded.

He took off as though his arse was afire. He was furious and his thoughts raced dangerously. His father had gone too far. His own daughter. Colin’s sister! He remembered Sybella long ago as an innocent lass and how she used to spy on him. And then he pictured her now. His breath came raggedly in impotent anger. God help the person who stood in his way. Several thoughts came to mind, but only one rose above all others. It was time that Colin made his own choices—for better or worse. He was no longer his father’s pawn. And neither was Sybella.

He spotted his father as soon as he entered the bailey. Barely giving himself enough time to recognize over the score of MacDonell men that had arrived, Colin drew his sword. When he heard his father’s words, there was no turning back. It was about time he stood as a man and protected his family.

“I want the stone. Give me the stone and I will give ye Sybella,” said his father. His father turned and his eyes widened. He looked down to find a sword in the middle of his gut being pulled out by his only son.

“Ceusda-chrann ort. An diobhail toirt leis thu.” The agony of the cross upon you. The devil take you.

His father fell to the ground with a thump.

Colin bent over, catching his breath. He was so furious that blood pounded in his brain. He could barely think, anger consuming him. His sire definitely had an easier fate bestowed upon him than the one Colin would’ve given him had he had ample time. Colin lifted his eyes to find the MacDonell watching him.

“I am nae like my father, and if ye give Sybella a chance, ye will find she isnae like him either. She loves ye.”

“Where is my wife?”

* * *

Sybella sat in the tub as Mary and the maids bathed her—twice. “Ye should have left me.”

Mary rinsed Sybella’s hair. “I donna want to hear ye say that again.”

“Do ye think that Colin will be all right after…”

“Aye. I donna think Colin had much of a choice. Your father…lost his way. I want ye to think about yourself now. Colin did what was necessary and he will be a fine laird.”

“I love him, Mary.” Sybella closed her eyes as tears fell down her cheeks. “For as much as I jested with ye about Angus, I now see. I was such a fool for throwing it all away.”

Mary gestured for the maids to depart and she handed Sybella a drying cloth. Looking over Sybella’s shoulder, Mary smiled. “Mayhap ’tisnae too late.”

Sybella pulled her nightrail over her head. “Ye didnae hear his words, Mary. Ye didnae see the look in his eyes. He hates me.” She closed her eyes, placing her hand across her brow. “What have I done?”

“Mayhap ye made your husband realize what a dolt he can be.”

Her eyes shot up in surprise.

Alexander smiled with compassion and opened his arms. Mary quickly departed as Sybella ran into her husband’s embrace. “Alexander, I am so sorry! I love ye with all my heart. I donna want to lose ye. My heart truly breaks.” Tears streamed down her cheeks.

He looked down at her, wiping away her tears with his thumb. “Ella, I was such a fool. Can ye ever forgive me? I didnae mean the words that flew carelessly from my lips. And ye were right. I was too blinded to see what was before my verra eyes. Tha gaol agam ort.” I love you. “I want ye to come home where ye belong, by my side.”

She placed her head against his broad chest and held him tight. “Then ye must believe me that I donna have the stone. I—”

He pulled back and touched his finger to her lips. “Shhh…I know. Donna worry about it. ’Tis over.” He tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. “Colin told me what your father did to ye. Please tell me ye are well.” He ran his hands up and down her arms.

“It was terrible, Alex, but I was more frightened at the thought of losing ye.”

He paused and pulled her close. “That will nae happen, lass. From this day forward, I promise ye that. Please promise me there will be nay more lies between us.”

“Aye.”

“Then if we are being truthful, there has been something I have been meaning to tell ye.”

She pulled back and her expression was puzzled. “What?”

“I loved ye from the first time I saw ye at the waterfall, Lady Sybella MacKenzie of Kintail. Ye plagued my thoughts for years and I always wondered what became of ye. Ye are the bonny lass that filled my dreams.” He smiled and gave her a roguish grin. “And your lips taste of sweetened honey. In fact, I will tell ye a secret. I’d really like to taste them now.”

He lowered his head and she licked her lips.

“Alex, ye are so verra wicked.”

Sybella sat at the table on the dais in the great hall surrounded by MacDonells and MacKenzies, and her smile broadened in approval. Men and women laughed as if they had not a care in the world. For the first time since she could remember, she was blissfully happy, fully alive. She no longer felt the burdensome chains of betrayal.

It was good to be home.

She couldn’t believe a sennight had already passed since the death of her father. And this jovial mood was exactly what the clans needed. The dreaded nightmare was over and it was finally time to heal old wounds. A little voice pulled her from her woolgathering.

“Come on, Lachlann, ye can do it,” said Anabel. She held out her arms as Lachlann took unsteady steps into her embrace. “Ye did it!”

Rosalia smiled. “He has taken a fancy to ye, Anabel.”

Anabel stood tall, proud. “I think I get along better with the wee lads than with my brothers.”

Colin rubbed the top of her head. “Your brothers may jest with ye now and again, Anabel, but they will always look after ye and love ye.” He turned to Sybella and they shared a smile.

A warm hand came down on Sybella’s shoulder and she reached up to grab it.

“Aunt Iseabail is in the garden with William. Should I be worried?” asked Alex, sitting down beside Sybella.

“Nay, I have a feeling William would ne’er let anything happen to her.”

“I suppose ye’re right.” Laughter filled the hall and Alex took a drink from his tankard. “My men are glad to be home from Lewis.”

“’Tis quite obvious. And ye really think things with the MacLeod will settle down now?”

“Now that Colin is laird and we have withdrawn our men, we shall see. With His Majesty’s men arriving on the isle, there isnae much the MacLeod could do now anyway.”

“I suppose.”

“Come now, Ella. I told ye that I donna want ye worrying about such things.”

“How can I be worried when I have such a strong and handsome protector?”

Alex lifted his brow, and as he was about to speak, Ennis approached the dais. “Thank ye for inviting us to the celebration. Anabel loves seeing ye, my lady.”

“I wish I could see her more often. Ye know how much I simply adore her. At times, I wished we lived closer to Kintail.”

“That doesnae mean we cannae come to pay ye a visit.” A mischievous look came into Ennis’s eyes and he lowered his voice. “Besides, I donna think ye will have the time, Lady Sybella. Ye will soon have your own bairn to raise.”

Sybella’s mouth dropped and Alex sat forward. “What? What did ye say?”

“Aye, Laird MacDonell, your wife is with child.”

She stammered in confusion. “Are ye for certain? I thought ye couldnae see without the stone.”

A sheepish smile crossed Ennis’s face. “That’s what I told your father, lass. I was aware of what he did to the MacLeod’s women and children, and knowing that, I could nay longer aid him in his endeavors. I ne’er wanted blood on my hands. I only tried to help our clan.” Alex was about to speak when Ennis looked him in the eye. “Aye, ye have your heir. He is a healthy lad.”