Victoria Roberts - [Bad Boys of the Highlands 03]

by To Wed a Wicked Highlander

  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.”

  “All right. Where is this stone and what does it look like?”

  She made a circle with her hands. “’Tis of a brownish color, about this big, and has a hole in the center.”

  “Did Father give it to ye? Where is it?”

  “Placed into the eye of the Rock of the Raven.” When Alex raised his brow, she quickly added, “Under your feet in the great hall, Nephew.” She finally sat down in the chair. “When I saw your wife running her foot over the eye of the raven, I remembered that was what Dòmhnall meant in his letter to ye. And the way your bonny wife studied the raven, it seems she has discovered her clan’s stone.”

  For the first time in his life, Alex could say that he was rendered speechless. Aunt Iseabail was right about one thing: his father had never mentioned the fact that he held this seeing stone of the MacKenzies. And leave it to his sire to place the damn rock in the middle of the great hall, no less. Alex shook his head at his father’s arrogance. Then again, his father had more than likely never expected Alex to wed a MacKenzie.

  He suddenly had another disturbing thought. If the tale Aunt Iseabail spoke was true, the stone was something the MacKenzie would not easily forget. What better way for a MacKenzie to recover the stone than by offering the hand of his daughter to Alex.

  He quickly shook off the thought as ice spread through his veins. He tried to think clearly, not permitting his emotions to rule. He refused to race to conclusions until he spoke with Sybella.

  “Thank ye, Aunt. I would ask that ye donna mention this to anyone, especially Rosalia or Sybella.”

  Her eyes widened. “I may be old, but I am nae a daft fool, Nephew.” She rose. “I know Dòmhnall risked discovery by taking the stone. I leave it to ye to make certain it stays where it belongs.”

  He nodded. “I will take care of it. Can ye see yourself to the garden?”

  “Alexander…”

  He waved her off. “Of course ye can.”

  Alex sat down behind his father’s desk and poured himself a drink. He could not stop himself from pondering and wanted to put all of the pieces together. Did Sybella know? The question continued to hammer at him. Perhaps she didn’t. He could not simply ignore how gentle and loving his wife was. She was everything the MacKenzie clan was not. And he was proud to call her wife.

  A thought froze in his mind.

  Even thinking about the idea killed him. But what if Sybella did know of the stone? The harder Alex tried to ignore the truth, the more it persisted. He downed the rest of his drink, realizing these wild ideas were driving him mad. He’d told Sybella repeatedly that he wanted nothing but honesty between them.

  He decided to simply ask her.

  Alex walked to the great hall and stopped at the clan crest. He never would’ve noticed that the stone was different in the eye of the raven if Aunt Iseabail hadn’t told him. Now he could see it as clear as day. He bent down and tugged at the rock, making sure it was still secure in its place.

  “Alex.”

  He stood as John walked toward him, a troubled expression upon his brow.

  “What is it?”

  John lowered his voice. “Mayhap we should go to your study.”

  Alex nodded and once again found himself walking to his study. When John closed the door behind him, Alex grunted.

  “Am I going to need another drink? I’ve already had my fill with Aunt Iseabail.” When John merely nodded, Alex sat down behind his father’s desk and poured them both some ale. He handed John a cup. “I am almost afraid to ask.”

  “Alex, I am your friend. We are as brothers, but ye also made me the captain of your guard. I have a duty, responsibility.”

  Alex spoke hesitantly. “Aye…”
>
  “There is nay easy way to say this, but I must.” John took a drink from his tankard and then met Alex’s gaze. “Did ye speak with your wife about the dungeon?”

  Alex shifted in his chair, studying John for a moment. “Aye. She told me she was there.”

  “She told ye?” asked John, surprised.

  Alex didn’t really want to share Sybella’s fears with John, but his friend was troubled over something. “She wanted to see where we held the MacLeod. She is fearful of me taking my leave to Lewis and thinks I leave her unprotected with MacGregor.”

  “The MacLeod man is dead.”

  “I tried to tell her the same, but ye know how lasses worry over naught. What is this about?”

  “When I saw your wife from the wall, her behavior was odd, almost as if she didnae want to be spotted.”

  “I’m sure she didnae. I would have throttled her myself had I seen her. ’Tis nay place for a woman.”

  “I had one of my men follow her.”

  “What? For what purpose?”

  “I donna know, Alex. Something isnae quite right. And being that ye spend many an eve tupping the lass, mayhap ye are blinded by her actions.”

  “What are ye saying? I think with my coc—”

  John dropped a missive on the desk before Alex. “Read it.”

  “What is this?” asked Alex, picking up the letter.

  “Read it,” repeated John.

  Alex read the words and his heart stopped.

  Colin,

  I found what you and Father seek. Please stop this madness before it is too late.

  Ella

  Eighteen

  Sybella walked along the garden path, contemplating how she was going to free the stone from the great hall floor. She would need to find some kind of tool to loosen it. Perhaps she’d check the stables when everyone was asleep. She had another disturbing thought. Once she removed her clan’s stone, there would be a hole in the floor. She needed to find another rock to replace the one she would take.

  She sat down on a bench and watched Rosalia and Ciaran play with Lachlann. Ciaran held his son up in the air and Lachlan smiled from ear to ear. When Rosalia reached out and touched her husband’s arm in a gentle gesture, his eyes held a tremendous amount of love for the woman standing by his side.

  As Sybella watched the family together, she didn’t notice her own lips curving into a smile. From what Alexander said about his cousin, Rosalia had suffered hardship and discomfort before meeting Ciaran. But no one could tell from looking at the woman. Rosalia was proud, strong. And Alex’s cousin had certainly found her inner peace and her one true love. To be honest, Sybella was blissfully happy for Rosalia. And if Sybella was truthful with herself, perhaps she was even a bit jealous of the woman who stood before her. One thing was clearly evident: Rosalia was a survivor.

  Every time Rosalia’s eyes met Ciaran’s, it was difficult not to notice the heartfelt love, understanding, and compassion that were exchanged between them. Sybella hoped that perhaps one day Alex would feel the same about her—well, as soon as she could clean up this mess her clan had created.

  With that revelation, Sybella stood from the bench. “Pray excuse me. I think I will take a quick walk to the loch.”

  Rosalia turned. “Do ye want us to come along with ye?”

  “Nay, ye stay with your bonny lad. I will return soon.”

  Sybella walked casually to the loch, her eyes searching the path along the way. There were no stones or rocks that would serve her purpose. She thought perhaps there might be more of a selection next to the water—at least, that was her hope.

  Reaching the loch, she took a moment to merely stand there and admire the view. The sun was starting to set below the horizon, and the leaves rustled in the wind. She took a deep breath and let the fresh air stimulate her senses. When another round of painful memories started to invade her thoughts, she began to walk.

  Tiny pebbles rolled onto the sandy shore. When she almost stumbled, she looked down and spotted a rock that would suit her purpose. She picked up the stone and wiped the gritty sand off the surface.

  On safer ground now, Sybella paused to reflect a moment. She was astonished at the sense of completeness she felt at Glengarry. She truly loved everything about this place. From her home to the loch to her new kin, she could easily live out the rest of her days here. And as long as the man she loved was forever by her side…She smiled at the thought.

  ***

  Alex couldn’t deny the evidence any longer. His wife was a traitor. A MacKenzie through and through. Curses fell from his mouth, and he knew that when he was crossed, his temper could be almost uncontrollable.

  “What will ye do?” asked John.

  Alex ran his hand through his hair, his movements agitated. “Before or after I kill her?”

  John’s eyes widened. “Alex…”

  Alex looked up at the ceiling. “God’s teeth, I can hear ye now, Father. I should’ve known the lass was naught but trouble from the start. Why in the hell would I even think about wedding a MacKenzie. Why?”

  “Do ye really want me to answer that?”

  Alex glowered at John, and the man had the nerve to raise his hands in mock surrender. “May I offer ye a suggestion?”

  Alex closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “What?”

  “Ye arenae going to speak with her now, are ye?”

  “Speaking, nay. Throttling or running my sword through her, mayhap. Howbeit I donna trust her to speak the truth, and besides, she hasnae yet taken the stone. If I question her, she would simply deny it.” Alex paused, his thoughts racing. “I want ye to keep to the shadows and watch her every move. I entrust ye to do this, nae one of the men. After she takes the stone, I want to see her hand it over to the MacKenzie. We will deal with the two of them at the same time.”

  “I am truly sorry, Alex. I thought the lass—”

  “The lass doesnae matter.”

  John nodded and simply walked out.

  Alex sat down and pounded his fist on the desk. “An diobhail toirt leis thu!” The devil take you!

  The MacKenzie clearly had played him for a fool. The arse hadn’t hesitated when Alex demanded two hundred fifty cattle as Sybella’s dowry. No wonder! The woman was planted under his roof to deliver the seeing stone to the MacKenzie seer. How utterly convenient.

  He shook his head in awe at the lengths of the MacKenzie’s machinations. He could imagine the man sitting behind the desk in his study, a smug expression upon his face. The bastard had deceived a MacDonell—or so he thought. But maybe it wasn’t too late. The MacKenzie still didn’t have the stone. Perhaps there was time…

  Alex couldn’t calm his thoughts. What the hell was he going to do about the MacLeod? The man had tried to kill Alex’s wife. The MacLeod would just have to wait his turn. Besides, Alex couldn’t think about that now. He needed to solve one problem at a time.

  Sybella’s missive to her brother continued to haunt him. What did she mean when she wrote, “Please stop this madness before it’s too late”? Was marriage to Alex so unbearable? She was clearly going to leave him after she delivered the damn stone to her father.

  Alex’s heart hardened, and he refused to think of Sybella and her innocent touches. He banished the thoughts of their stolen moments. The woman was nothing more than a MacKenzie wench who had played him for a fool. And to think he cared for the lass, thought of her as one of his own.

  He walked briskly to the parapet before he attempted to do something he would surely regret. He wasn’t sure how long he remained there, nor did he care. The silence was a blessing. Only when his head bobbed and jolted him awake did he finally seek his bed. But no sooner did he close his eyes than the adjoining door opened and closed.

  Alex watched his wife as she approached his bed. At least he’d had enough sense left to ke
ep the bedside candle lit. He closed his eyes and feigned sleep, not giving Sybella the chance to place a dagger straight through his heart. For a moment, she merely stood there and watched him, no doubt planning his untimely demise. When she reached out to touch him, he whipped out his hand and firmly grabbed her arm.

  Sybella gasped.

  “What are ye doing?” he asked, his voice hardening ruthlessly.

  “Praise the saints, ye frightened me. I wanted to make sure ye and Aunt Iseabail were all right.” When he didn’t respond and his eyes darkened, she gently pulled to free herself from his grasp. “Alex…”

  He released her arm and his eyes roamed to her nightrail. He could see her creamy breasts through the thin material. “Seek your bed, Sybella.”

  Instead of heeding his command, the lass placed her hands on her hips. “What is the matter with ye, Alexander?”

  Alex punched the lumps out of his pillow while she stood there gawking at him. The lass clearly didn’t know how much danger she was in. When she finally walked away, he rolled over onto his side. And there she stood, lifting the blankets and crawling into bed with him.

  His eyes widened. “What are ye doing?”

  “I am sleeping next to my husband.”

  “I am in nay mood for bed sport, lass,” he said dryly.

  She turned to face him, placing her hands in a prayer-like position under her cheek. “Tell me what happened. I know ye are distraught over Aunt Iseabail. Did her memory fail again?”

  How was he to tell her that it was the complete opposite and that Aunt Iseabail remembered the stone Sybella had been sent to recover? As the sultry temptress lay there with her innocent looks, pretending to be concerned about his aunt, she had no idea how much he wanted to reach over and throttle her. The lass had some bollocks.

  She lifted her hand and gently rubbed his cheek. “I see ye are troubled. Share your burden with me. I am your wife.”

  He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

  A kiss as tender and light as a summer breeze brushed his lips. His eyes flew open as his wife nestled her body against his. She raised her hand to his cheek and pulled him closer, forcing him to deepen the kiss. What the hell was she doing?