“'Twas an accident, brother,” Alexander said, using the same words he’d used to soothe himself for years. “A foolish pair of lads and a lass, all too young and free of worries to pay heed to caution or fear.”
“The chieftain punished the both of ye for the accident?” Catriona asked.
“Beat Alexander until he was bloody,” Edward said, lifting his downcast gaze to Alexander then shifting it to Catriona. “He nearly died because he lied to the chief to save me. Told the man he had been the one to coax Leannan out onto the ice and that I had happened by and fallen in while trying to save them. He knew the chief would have ordered my beating be more severe since I was an outsider responsible for his daughter’s death.”
Edward took another sip of port then turned back to Alexander. “I shall do what I can to shield you and your clan from the scourging. But know this, the Highlands are no longer a safe haven for traitors or anyone harboring ill will toward the Crown. His Highness has deemed it will be so for the good of all in the realm and I am sworn to see it through. Tread lightly, my friend, in everything you do, for your own sake and the sake of those you cherish.”
A deep foreboding filled Alexander, churned in his gut like a great beast awakening. He brought Catriona’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her knuckles before turning back to Edward. “Do what ye can but know this, when your protection falls short, I will no' leave this life quietly nor fail to fight for what is mine.”
Edward gave a slow nod, his jaw tightening as he lifted his chin and leveled his gaze with Alexander’s. “Understood.”
Chapter 26
“Praise God we’re at last shed of them.” Catriona leaned back against him, hugging his arms tighter around her as they watched the king’s regiment and Campbell’s men leave the glen. A sea of red uniforms followed by a multi-colored mass of grays, blues, and greens exited out the narrow pass like water poured from a bucket.
“Aye.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and held her closer, breathing in her sweet familiar scent and reveling in her soft warmth against him. He supposed he should feel happier. Jameson Campbell bound for the Tollbooth at Fort William and the regiment withdrawn without the slightest scuffle. Relieved, he should be.
But he wasn’t.
Edward’s warning of possible trouble on the horizon replayed in his head and the thought of a traitor, or traitors, still in their midst gnawed at him like a dog worrying an old bone. He would no' rest until he discovered who had betrayed their first escape, risked Catriona’s well-being, and cost Murtagh and the stable lads their lives. Edward had spoken of a fragile balance. Too much was at risk. A traitor among them threatened destruction of them all.
“Ye be wool-gathering.” Catriona pushed her way out of his arms, turned, and faced him. “What troubles ye, dear husband?”
She read him so well. He didna ken if that was a good thing or no'. Cupping her face between his hands, he sank into the sweet concern filling her eyes. “I fear safety eludes us yet.” He wouldna lie to shield her. To do so would cause her more harm than good.
Catriona pulled away, her mouth tightening into a flat line as she glanced up at the sky and squinted against the brightness of the day. She pulled her arisaidh tighter about her, and strolled across the path to the battlement, returning her attention to the emptying of the glen. “If we keep to ourselves, surely Edward will let us be.” She stared at the vista before her, the wind whipping her hair. “He said he’d do so as best he could.” She tore her gaze away from the glen and pinned it on him. “Think ye he lied?”
“I've never known Edward to lie, but I do know he's loyal to a fault with whatever duty he’s sworn to keep.”
“Even if it betrays his conscience?”
“Even if it betrays his conscience,” Alexander confirmed, grinding his teeth at the admission. 'Twas the one thing they’d always disagreed upon, even come to blows over once long ago. Edward followed orders—no matter what. Alexander had always felt it to be the man's greatest weakness of character. To Edward, extenuating circumstances didna exist. Orders were orders. Never questioned. Always followed.
A weary huff escaped him. “Truth be told, it fair shocked me when he said he’d leave us be as long as he could.” Alexander only hoped Edward had at last come to the realization that life was no' a case of black and white. Proper choices came in a myriad of shades tinted by a man’s heart, soul, and conscience.
“But he warned us to tread lightly.” Catriona rested her hand upon the battlement and bowed her head. “He meant if we did anything to insult the Crown, he wouldna hesitate to destroy us, aye?”
“Aye.” Alexander pushed away from the stone wall of the tower and joined Catriona at the low, crenelated wall surrounding it. “But at least his threat is out in the open and we’ll see the danger full on before it hits.”
Catriona scowled at him with a confused look. “What are ye saying?”
“We’ve a traitor here, Catriona. Somewhere.” He encompassed the keep and the grounds with an impatient flip of a hand. “The night we tried to escape. Tried to free ye. Someone alerted Calum. Someone close to ye. Had to be someone close to ye.” Scowling down at the courtyard below, he allowed his gaze to follow the repetitious movements of one of the serving lads loading armloads of wood into the pit for roasting meat. Back and forth the lad went from woodpile to pit, stacking the wood loose for when it came time to light the fire beneath the spit.
“Someone couldha heard us in the hall,” Catriona defended.
Fair point. Alexander thought back but instinct told him no. “I dinna believe we said enough in the hall to give away our plans.”
“Then someone in the kitchens.” Catriona’s voice fell, and she closed her eyes. “Or someone close to Murtagh.”
“His wife, perhaps?”
Catriona shrank away. 'Twas a sure sign she too suspected Mrs. Aberfeldy.
“Aye, perhaps so,” she said in such a soft, low tone he strained to hear her. She lifted her sad gaze to him. “I told her of our plan to escape and bade her tell Murtagh so he could ready the horses.” She rubbed her fingers to her forehead as though trying to wipe away the memory. Catriona closed her eyes and shook her head. “But why?” She opened her eyes and stared at Alexander. “Why would she betray me knowing it endangered her husband’s life?”
Alexander held out his arm. “Let us find out.” They’d go to the hall and have the woman summoned to appear before them. The chieftain and his wife. Their first hearing and judgment as leaders of Clan Neal.
With a resigned sigh, Catriona hooked her arm in his. Together, they made their way down from the guard tower to the main hall and seated themselves in the ornate upholstered chairs on the dais beneath the Neal crest. Servants milled about the room, sweeping, dusting, scrubbing the flagstones.
Alexander motioned the closest of them forward. A young maid, her sleeves pushed up past her elbows, busy at her chore of scrubbing table tops with what smelled like strong lye water. Eyes flaring wide at his summons, she dropped the rag into the bucket and hurried to him.
“Aye, my chieftain?” she said in a quivering voice as she clutched her dark skirts with her reddened hands and curtsied.
“I bid ye fetch Mrs. Aberfeldy and tell her to make haste.” Alexander gave the young maid an encouraging nod. “On with ye now.”
The young girl’s freckled cheeks flamed redder than the curls peeping out from under her white cap. She made another quick curtsy then shot off toward the kitchens.
“What will ye do to the woman?” Catriona asked under her breath.
“That depends on what she says.” Alexander paused then took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “And your wishes.”
“I wish for simple things. Happiness. Peace. And filling this keep with your babies.” She gave him a sad smile as she returned his squeeze.
“Aye, love,” he said soft and low. “'Tis my wish as well, dear one.”
The breathless sound of huffing gasps, sc
urrying feet, and skirts rustling across the floor interrupted their discourse. Mrs. Aberfeldy emerged from the side hall close to the right of the dais at a full run.
“Are ye unwell?” she asked Catriona, gasping between words as she clapped both pudgy hands to her chest.
“Nay,” Catriona answered in a quiet but firm tone. She tightened her hold of Alexander’s hand and gave him a sideways glance as though asking for permission to continue.
Her need to be the one to do this shone in her eyes. Alexander gave her the slightest nod. The gleaning of the truth from Mrs. Aberfeldy would go a mite easier if he didna get involved. It also gave him the opportunity to observe the old woman’s mannerisms closer.
“The night I attempted to escape,” Catriona started then paused, took in a deep breath, and released it with a slow pained sigh. “The night of Murtagh's murder, who did ye tell of our plan besides Murtagh?”
All color drained from the old woman’s face and her jaw slackened. Her lips parted in disbelief. She fisted both hands, flexing them in front of her waist, then finally clasped them tight together, her knuckles white with the effort. “Ye dare no' think… I didna betray ye, m’lady. I swear it.”
“Someone did,” Catriona rebutted, still speaking in a quiet tone filled with the strength of iron.
“Someone in the kitchens,” Mrs. Aberfeldy said, still wringing her hands in front of her. “They saw ye with your cloak. Someone in the kitchens gave ye away. 'Twasn’t me, m’lady. I swear to ye on me own grave.”
“If someone in the kitchens had given me away, Calum would no' have had the time to plan how best to foil our escape the way that he did,” Catriona said, sitting taller in her seat. “Someone warned Calum and he set his torment in motion before I ever reached the kitchens.”
“Ye didna answer the question,” Alexander said. The woman was lying. He could tell by the way she glanced about as though she feared someone might overhear her denials and challenge them. “Did ye speak to anyone other than Murtagh about Catriona’s intent to leave?”
“I dinna remember,” she said with a jerking shake of her head then stared down at the floor.
“How could ye, Gaersa?” Catriona asked, her tone filled with sorrow. “How could ye do such a thing t’me? To Murtagh?”
The old woman lifted her head, all of sudden looking so weary, it appeared to take all her strength to stand. “I didna mean to betray ye, Catriona.” Her voice drifted off, and she looked away. “I swear I didna mean to.”
“Name the person.” Alexander shifted to the edge of his seat. He’d heard all the pathetic lies he could stomach.
Mrs. Aberfeldy bowed her head again and her shoulders slumped. She mumbled something under her breath. A single word.
“Louder,” Alexander ordered.
“Orlie,” Mrs. Aberfeldy said, tears running down her face. “I told Orlie.”
“Who the hell is Orlie?” Alexander asked.
“My father’s personal servant.” Catriona frowned. “But I thought the man wasna able to speak.”
“My brother could speak as clear as any of us,” Mrs. Aberfeldy said in a subdued tone. “But your father’s treatment of him over the years silenced him, making him speak only to the few people he loved and trusted.”
“Are ye saying he betrayed me?”
Mouth drawn down into a sorrowful frown, Mrs. Aberfeldy gazed first at Catriona, shifted her focus to Alexander, then returned her attention to Catriona. “I should never have told Orlie. I wasna thinking proper when I did so.” She gave them both a sad shrug. “Ye ken I’ve never been able to hold my tongue about anything I know. It’s as though I’ll die if I canna tell someone…anyone…especially when I know something of importance.” She shrugged again. “Ye see, it…it makes me feel I matter when folk listen. Like I’m better. Folk take note of me when I have something to say. Something that no one else knows.” She swallowed hard, looked down, then forced herself to raise her head and look them in the eye again. “I get so weary of being invisible. Please forgive me, Catriona.”
“Why would Orlie go to Calum?” Alexander asked.
“Because he loved him,” Mrs. Aberfeldy said with a heavy sigh. “And he feared for Calum’s safety.”
“What?” Catriona leaned forward, pinning Mrs. Aberfeldy with a stern, unblinking stare.
Mrs. Aberfeldy glanced around the hall then took a step closer. “Your father often paired them together. In his sick games. As your father aged and his ailments grew worse, he couldna perform as a man so he’d force Calum to do his perversions whilst he watched.” The old housekeeper spoke in a low voice filled with shame. “Orlie said Calum was gentle with him. Wouldna torture him near as severe your father ordered. Orlie grew to love him for his kindness.”
Catriona looked away, slumping back in her seat and covering her face with both hands.
Alexander took a light hold of Catriona’s arm. Her pallor concerned him. She looked as though she were about to be ill and he couldna say he blamed her. “Send for your brother. I would speak with him about that night.”
“I cannot, my chieftain,” Mrs. Aberfeldy said, her face an emotionless blank. Before Alexander could demand why not, she continued, “Orlie hanged himself in his room on the night Calum died.”
So the one who had betrayed them was already dead. But there was still Mrs. Aberfeldy. Alexander felt she’d betrayed them, too, and would do so again. The woman had admitted she couldna keep the slightest confidence. She was a danger, a threat they didna need.
Before he could speak his thoughts and reason out a solution, Catriona pushed herself up from her chair. He held his tongue and waited, wondering what his wife was about to do.
“Ye canna stay here, Mrs. Aberfeldy.” Catriona gave a sharp shake of her head and motioned toward the door. “Pack your things and go.”
Mrs. Aberfeldy looked as though she’d aged a hundred years. She gave Catriona a trembling nod as she twisted her hands together in front of her. “I understand,” she said, then shuffled off toward the archway leading to the wing of the keep that held the servants’ rooms.
“What a poisoned mess the evil in my sire caused,” Catriona whispered as she watched Mrs. Aberfeldy leave the room. She turned to Alexander. “She lost my trust and understanding the moment she defended Calum and his evil ways.”
Alexander stood and held out his hand. “Come. We’ll walk a bit and visit the stable to clear our heads of this darkness. Sawny said your prize mare gifted us with a fine healthy colt this morning.” Surely, seeing the sweet unblemished life would help raise Catriona’s spirits. Whilst he understood her emotional distress, especially since discovering the depth of her father and brother’s debauchery, Alexander hoped she’d find comfort knowing they had settled the problem of a traitor in the keep.
Catriona took his hand without speaking but graced him with a weak smile. They exited the keep and walked along in companionable silence for a long while. They strolled through the winding paths of the kitchen gardens where tiny bits of green were beginning to peep up through the clumps of black broken soil as though checking to ensure that winter had in fact gone before emerging any farther.
A gentle breeze lifted the loose tendrils of Catriona’s auburn hair and fluttered them about her face. With an impatient flick of her hand, she brushed them aside and tucked them behind her ears. The sunshine set her hair afire, highlighting it with streaks of gold and shimmering copper. Her fair skin glowed in the fresh air of the sunny day. A creamier white than any ivory and seasoned with the faintest strip of cinnamon freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was a braw, fierce, lovely woman, and she was all his.
“I love ye, Catriona.” The words left his mouth of their own volition and he was glad of it, rewarded by her pleased look and shy smile.
“I love ye as well, Alexander.”
He pulled her into his arms and poured all he felt for her into a long, slow kiss. Her hands traveled up his chest. She held him tight and returned his fervor. Soft c
urves pressed against hardness. Heartbeat pounded against heartbeat. Growing breathless with need, Alexander raised his head and looked down at this woman who owned him heart and soul.
Fair skin flushed and lips parted, Catriona gazed up at him with half-closed eyes. “Ye’ve turned me into a wanton, husband. I canna get enough of ye.” As if she feared he wouldn’t believe her, she snugged her body harder against him.
Her words inflamed him and her actions made him ache with the need to take her. Alexander stole a glance around the enclosed garden, secluded in its position at the side of the kitchens but set well away from the area where meat roasted on spits or the great cauldrons rendered meat fat down into lye soap.
“I must have ye,” he rasped against the softness of her jawline as he nuzzled at her throat. “Here. Now. Pray allow me, I beg ye.”
“Never feel as though ye must beg, dear husband.” Catriona leaned back against the stone wall surrounding the garden. With a slow deliberate move, she lifted her skirts and bared one leg.
Alexander charged forward like a bull released from its pen. He lifted her up against the wall, whipped aside his kilt and the mass of her skirts, then shoved in deep with a claiming growl. He kept her in place with one hand as he ground deeper then set to rocking, sliding in and out of the wondrous hot wetness as she held tight and clamped her legs around him.
Her nails raking down his back, Catriona shuddered and cried out as bliss took over, making her clench around him with searing wet spasms that pulled him in deep and hard, coaxing him to embrace his own release and spill himself.
Sagging into her, sandwiching her between his body and the wall, Alexander gasped for breath between tastes of Catriona’s sweet mouth. “I love ye fierce, my wanton wife.”
Catriona crossed her ankles at the small of his back and hugged him with both arms and legs as she gave him another kiss. “I’m glad of it and I love ye just as fierce.” Then she gave him a wicked grin. “But if ye’ve torn the back of me dress on these stones, ye shall buy fabric for another.”
The Chieftain: A Highlander's Heart and Soul Novel Page 26