The Secret of Skye Isle

by Dillon, Marisa

  Ursula was not surprised. Lachlan was a Luttrell, and even though he was not undermining like his brother and father, he had a thirst for land that was hard to quench. When they first met, Rosalyn and Lachlan had fought for Fyvie like bitter enemies.

  Rosalyn sat upright. As upright as a woman could with twins in her belly. Liked she’d been pinched. “Who’s the new lord at Kyle of Lochalsh?”

  “Your brother-in-law, Ethan,” she said plainly.

  “The competition between them never ceases. It’s a fool’s prize Lachlan has given to his brother. The castle has a storied past. More Viking than Highlander at its inception. There’s been many a bloody battle over its gates.” Her gaze narrowed on Ursula. “Why were you an observer?”

  “I was pulled in as the fourth.”

  “You, gambling with men?”

  “Would it have been better if I’d gambled with ladies?”

  Rosalyn huffed.

  “I had no choice in the matter. You know what happens when ’tis just the two of them,” Ursula said. They’d both seen this firsthand. “James came to their rescue, and then I came to James’s.”

  Rosalyn balked. “When does a Knight of the Garter need rescuing?”

  “You know better than anyone that Ethan and Lachlan could end up in a duel to the death if a competition between them goes unchecked,” Ursula said. “Luckily, James was the referee even up to the last when the game was tied and the final win was decided in a roll off.”

  Rosalyn acquiesced with a shrug. “Wasnae Lachlan upset about losing?”

  “Nay, for there was a caveat for the loser.”

  “Let me guess,” Rosalyn said, grinning. “Ethan promised to do Lachlan’s bidding when he needed to call on him.”

  Ursula nodded rapidly and patted Rosalyn on the hand. “We both know how that worked out last time,” she said, rising, then walking to a storage cupboard in the far corner of the bedchamber.

  “Ethan has made some amends,” Rosalyn defended. “It’s been six months since Christmastide.”

  Ursula nodded half-heartedly as she made her way to the expansive worktable that had been set up in Rosalyn’s chamber for her midwifery. The babes were nae due for about five more weeks, but with twins, you never could be assured of anything.

  Ursula caught herself in the mirror that hung over the workstation. Designed for light reflection, not vanity, she used the mirror to heat some of her herbal concoctions with the sun’s rays. Although she’d never been one to fuss over her appearance, she noted her skin looked much too pale next to her inky black hair. No doubt she was pasty from worry over her good friend Rosalyn.

  As Ursula took the elderberries and crushed them in the mortar with the pestle, she thought about how to approach Rosalyn on the idea of her leaving for a short while before the babes were born.

  “Absolutely not. You are nae to set a foot outside this castle until these bairns are born,” Rosalyn commanded.

  Ursula spun around, almost knocking her mortar over in her haste. She scoffed. “What?” Had she been daydreaming?

  “You clearly heard what I said.”

  “Aye, but how did you know what I said in my head?”

  “You donnae think I’ve learned anything from you in a year studying by your side?” Rosalyn asked.

  “Well, sight is not normally learned. I’ve told you it’s inborn,” Ursula said. It had been for Ursula and all the women in her family over many generations of Frasers.

  “Do nae start getting haughty with me now,” Rosalyn said, sounding wounded.

  Ursula snapped her fingers. “It must be triggered by the pregnancy. You have always had good healing instincts, and your mastery of herbs is extraordinary, but admit it, Rosalyn, this is the first time you’ve seen my thoughts.”

  Her friend raised one brow. “I thank you for the compliments,” Rosalyn said, “but how certain are you about this being the first time?”

  Ursula turned her back on Rosalyn. “I should have said during your pregnancy.” She tossed more berries in the mortar and began beating at them in a fury.

  Ursula turned around again to face her friend but took the mortar with her this time. Crushing the berries at a fervent pace, she said, “Well, reading my thoughts, you know I must leave this place in search of a rare variety of the guelder rose that only grows on the Isle of Skye.”

  “Nay!” Rosalyn all but jumped up from her seat, which wasnae possible for her.

  “Nay? Nay what?” Ursula asked cocking her head to one side.

  “Nay, you may not leave this place. The birthing is too close,” Rosalyn said. “There’s no one I trust to travel with you. With . . .”

  “With Joshua gone?”

  “I did nae want to say that.”

  “To bring up his name?”

  “To bring up his memory,” Rosalyn said with a palpable hollowness in her voice.

  Joshua. Ursula spun away from Rosalyn, knowing the tears welling in her eyes would not stay there long. She couldn’t let her friend know how much her heart was aching. With Rosalyn’s frequent weepy outbursts, the last thing Ursula wanted was to trigger another.

  “You know I’ve traveled alone many times. And I like it that way.” Ursula discreetly wiped her tears before she looked over her shoulder, surprised to find Rosalyn waddling across the ornate tapestry rug to her table.

  “Nay, you shouldnae be walking by yourself.” Ursula rushed over and wrapped an arm around her waist.

  “How can you propose one rule for me, but ignore your own advice?” Rosalyn asked as she draped an arm over Ursula’s shoulder.

  Ursula started to say something but sputtered instead. Rosalyn was right, she admitted begrudgingly to herself as she guided Rosalyn back to her chair and took the stool across from her again. The afternoon herbal mixture could wait a few minutes while she figured out how to negotiate her way to the isle.

  “Lachlan will go with you,” Rosalyn blurted out.

  “Nay, he must be here by your side and manage the clan. Your husband should not be away at this time. I cannot allow it.”

  Rosalyn raised a brow again.

  Ursula amended her response, “My lady, it would not be advisable for you to send your husband on a mission at this time.”

  “James?”

  “Committed to returning to King Henry’s Court to be with his new wife and son.”

  “There are more knights to be had as escort. Do not believe you can sashay out the Fyvie gates on your own.”

  Ursula sighed. She’d already learned that when Rosalyn set her mind to something, it was difficult to change it. She shrugged her shoulders and pinched her lips shut, not wanting to lie, but she wasn’t beyond sneaking out if she had to. Ursula patted her friend’s hands and walked back to her table.

  “Let me finish the afternoon herbs,” she told Rosalyn and returned to stirring the berries in the mortar, glancing over her shoulder occasionally. It wasn’t long before Rosalyn was napping.

  An da shealladh–the second sight. Ursula had believed it was inherited. The shock was beginning to wear off though as she was left to her conflicted assumptions and questioning her mother’s claims.

  Could Rosalyn have learned some of the necessary skills, power of observation, keen listening?

  But not intuition. That was God given.

  The idea of Rosalyn’s senses being heightened by her pregnancy seemed reasonable. The girl had picked out every spice in the roasted vegetable stew last night, or at least she’d appeared to have the skill. She’d sent the server back to the kitchen three different times to confirm the cook had used coriander, then turmeric, and finally, saffron.

  “I know my spices,” Rosalyn bragged and raised a groggy head just as her husband burst through the door without knocking.

/>   Chapter 3

  “My Lord, you rule Fyvie castle, but I rule this bedchamber,” Ursula chided Rosalyn’s dashing English husband before she shut the door behind him.

  The impeccably manicured clan leader swept into a low bow, not a hair on his head out of place, and with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  “Good woman, I do not want your wrath or oaths upon me. Forgive my eagerness to visit my lovely bride when I can, but I’ve been at Ma Cameron’s Tavern for hours meeting with rival clans and I wanted a moment with my love.”

  When he bent even farther into his bow, Lachlan’s richly embroidered cape came about his ears. Before he rose, he turned his face up and tossed a wicked grin toward his wife.

  Rosalyn struggled to get up from the chair to greet him.

  “Wife, we’ve talked about this,” Lachlan said in a clipped-tone, rushing to her side. “Do not attempt to greet me as you did before your belly was full of two babes.”

  Rosalyn shrieked and held her side gingerly. After her initial grimace faded, she flashed him a dazzling smile.

  “Husband, they are kicking again.”

  He gazed lovingly at Rosalyn before he brushed a stray, flaming-red lock from her brow, then laid a hand on her bulging belly.

  Ursula had met them both when she was in service at Berwick Castle. Rosalyn was still as feisty now as she’d been when she’d met Lachlan, both tied to a hitching post, in Berwick’s dungeon. They’d been at odds then, but it was hard to imagine she’d tried to poison him to get what she wanted.

  Fortunately, they’d both gotten what they desired—Fyvie Castle and a lifetime commitment to each other.

  “Whoa,” Lachlan exclaimed when it appeared the bairns were kicking under his hand. After the kicks came again, Lachlan took his hand away.

  Rosalyn giggled. “The lads are asserting their independence already, husband. Clearly they prefer my hand to yours.”

  His chuckle mingled with her amusement. Then he leaned over, apparently ready to give Rosalyn a kiss, but stopped within inches of her lips. “Lads?”

  “Call it mother’s instinct,” Ursula said, taking up a stool next to Rosalyn, interrupting Lachlan’s intention as she began to administer the afternoon herbs to her friend.

  Ursula couldn’t help but feel she was intruding on their privacy. During Rosalyn’s pregnancy, the three of them were almost inseparable. But when the intimacy between husband and wife got too intense, she’d excuse herself. Their love was an envious one. Although she never wanted to pry, she couldn’t help but read their thoughts when they popped into her head.

  The potion went to work instantly, and in a few short moments, while Lachlan attended to his wife’s comfort, Rosalyn fell into a deep sleep. That’s why she was surprised to find Lachlan’s thoughts turning dark.

  “I would take a blade or arrow before I’d let anything or anyone harm your beautiful wife,” she said in response to what Lachlan was thinking.

  His gaze shot up to meet hers and his features clouded over in concern. “How? Did I? He stammered in response.

  She shrugged her shoulders when he shook his head, apparently believing her words of support were just a coincidence.

  Even though he wasn’t accustomed to her talents, Ursula couldn’t help blurting out what he’d been contemplating. On the other hand, she couldn’t read everyone, particularly not his brother Ethan. Ursula had the best results with those who were pure of heart. It was a compliment and a curse, filled with banes and blessings.

  Rosalyn was one of her blessings, and although she had resisted Ursula leaving, it would be her husband’s permission Ursula would need

  Even though Lachlan’s devoted gaze had returned to his wife, now was the time to make her appeal, but not within earshot of Rosalyn.

  Ursula took the laird’s hand and led him toward a storage cupboard, knowing the familiarity would not rattle him. It had been made clear before he’d married, Rosalyn and Ursula had formed a sisterhood beyond blood.

  “Listen,” Ursula said in a harsh whisper, “your wife is doing well under the circumstances, but her chances of delivering two babes without dying are nae good.”

  When Lachlan made a “tsk” sound, Ursula’s hands fisted at her side. She was certain her pale skin was turning pink as her anger rose.

  “Lachlan, do nae be an irresponsible man. Your own birth was one of the rare occasions when the mother lived after delivery of twins.” She studied him before going on, then shook her head. “’Tis nae likely you know much of these things.”

  “I do not understand much of child birthing, but you must understand I love my wife and I’ll do anything for her,” Lachlan growled.

  “Then you will support me when I say I need to leave on the morrow . . . the next day at the latest.” Ursula was a terrible liar. Truth would be her ally. “I must go to the Isle of Skye for a rare flower. I must have it for the birthing.”

  “You’re her midwife. Twin babes come early. Now who is being reckless?” he said, his voice rising.

  When Rosalyn groaned from her chair by the fire, both their heads turned in her direction.

  After Rosalyn settled back into even, heavy breathing, Lachlan’s and Ursula’s eyes met again. He tossed her an apologetic-looking grin after almost waking Rosalyn.

  “Let me send someone else from my arsenal to bring the flower here,” Lachlan offered. “The journey is at least five days each way, and there are many riotous clans to contend with throughout the Highlands. Although we have only one Garter knight in residence, I retain a loyal group of guards and soldiers. Any one of them is willing to do my bidding,” he said.

  Ursula wrinkled her nose. “Thank you, but I willnae need the escort. I’ve travelled the path before alone. I will do it again,” she said with determination.

  Lachlan snorted. “That was afore you were a member of this household.” He glanced over at the serene, peaceful face of his sleeping wife before he asked, “Are you not putting Rosalyn in more danger by leaving her?”

  When Ursula hesitated, he nodded in his wife’s direction. “You discussed it with Rosalyn, I suspect?”

  She cast her eyes to the floor, giving Lachlan his answer. After a long pause, Ursula grabbed his sleeve with a desperate grip.

  “Lachlan, you do nae understand. I am the only one who will recognize this rare form of the guelder rose. It grows only in the faerie grove at Glenbrittle, before the Cuillin Mountains.” She paused and stared deep into his eyes without blinking. “No mortal may walk there without consequence.”

  Lachlan flinched. Shrinking back from her, he said, “Many call you witch, but Rosalyn calls you sister, and I consider you an ally.” He ran his hand through his well-groomed beard, no doubt contemplating the urgency of her request. “Your talents are many, and I will not dictate what you do, but consider taking the proper precautions.” He weighed his words. “In the event you do not return.”

  Chapter 4

  Walking into the keep’s kitchen early the next morning, Ursula was still unsettled from her conversation with Lachlan. Although he’d agreed he would not stop her from her quest to bring back the guelder rose, he did not give her the satisfaction of his blessing either.

  She hoped now to lighten her mood and shake off the seriousness of last night’s debate. Of all the places at Fyvie, the kitchen was her favorite. Except for an occasional servant sleeping near the fire or a castle dog looking for scraps, she could count on having the space to herself this time of day. Here was where she could plan her herbal remedies and experiment with potions using the castle’s caldrons.

  Humming her favorite Scottish ballad, Ursula began unpacking her herbs, but when something touched her shoulder, she shrieked, bringing the dogs to barking.

  Whirling around, Ursula found a grinning twin.

  Lachlan? Ethan? She
was not sure which. The two looked so alike it was frightening and frustrating at the same time.

  “You scared me,” she said, holding her hand against her heart, hoping the steady pressure would slow its beat.

  A laugh followed her admission. It was Ethan. That was the only way she could tell them apart. She backed up from him.

  “Do not look like a cornered kitten ready to scurry under the butcher’s table,” Ethan said, closing the gap between them. “Like you, I made my way here hoping it would be vacant.”

  Ursula let out the breath she was holding and relaxed a little. He had been frightening before Lachlan’s wedding, but he had changed since then. She found him to be much different after he’d come to visit at Easter and decided to stay. Ethan had explained it as a change of heart, but she suspected there was something more. He still had called her a witch yesterday in the great hall. Although she did not take offense, he most likely had meant it as one.

  “No matter how long you stare at me, it will not help you unravel my secrets,” Ethan said, following the flirty challenge with a grin.

  Her heart fluttered. Her emotions declared freedom from her resistance. Her hardened will almost melted as his warm gaze swept over her like a gentle embrace.

  “Come,” he said as he took her elbow. “I suspect you had similar goals here this morning,” Ethan said as he walked her to the hearth toward the servants’ stools. He sat easily and waited.

  “Sit,” he said without force or malice after a few moments of watching her stare at the wooden seat.

  She blinked, gaining her composure, and glared at the stool as if it were something to fear.

  “I won’t bite,” he promised, extending a sweeping arm toward the seat.