The Black Wolf's Captive (The Highland Wolf Series Book 1)

by Tessa Murran

  ‘So it’s over, we’ve won,’ said Hugh smirking, as if it were his triumph and his alone.

  ‘Some Sinclairs got away but not enough to make a difference so aye, we’ve won.’

  ‘You’ve made me proud Duncan.’

  Duncan did not feel proud. ‘They sold their lives dearly.’

  Hugh waved away this fact and continued. ‘There is something we need to discuss nephew. Hamish McDougall may be a traitor to us,’ he said bluntly.

  ‘I’m not fond of that young fool but find that hard to believe’ said Duncan dismissively. ‘The McDougall’s have too much to lose by getting dragged into this mess with the Sinclairs.’

  ‘You’d think so but his father is ailing and debts have piled up. Alex Sinclair has been whispering venom in his ear this last year and no doubt he is gullible enough to fall for it. The spoilt young fool thinks he is entitled to anything he wants by virtue of his name and sees a chance of money and influence by hitching his horse to their cart.’

  ‘Any reason for these suspicions?’

  ‘He arrived at Dunslair just after you left on the pretence of delivering news from his father and we know that somehow information is getting to our enemies. I think he is sniffing around to gain an advantage and get in their good graces by spying on us.’

  Duncan said nothing and stood quietly warming his hands by the fire.

  ‘And then there is also the small matter of you stealing his would-be bride,’ sneered Hugh.

  ‘Ailsa was promised to him? She never told me that. Are you sure?’

  ‘Well, I have it on good authority that he had once approached her father for her hand and was found wanting. She would be a great prize and a way to solve all his problems and you must have seen the attraction between them. What if Ailsa had encouraged Hamish to join with the Sinclairs in the hope of defying her father’s wishes and taking him as her husband? She had rebuffed several suitors before you came across her, fine men, but she wouldn’t even look at them and her foolish father let her get away with it.

  ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘She was holding out for him Duncan, and then you got in the way, the war got in the way. She wants him still and I believe she plots to remove you and take him into her bed.

  ‘No, you are wrong about her,’ Duncan replied angrily, rejecting Hugh’s accusations offhand. Ailsa would never do that, lie to him like that. It was loyalty to her clan that made her a reluctant bride not love for another. He would have held fast to that opinion but for Hugh’s next words, for his uncle had saved the best until last.

  ‘She was seen in the chapel after you left, kissing him’, he said spitefully,

  ‘You lie!’ Duncan snarled coming towards his uncle.

  ‘Why would I? McDougall arrived here unannounced and went straight to her. I have it from a very reliable source that she was found in his arms, sharing a passionate embrace.’

  ‘A reliable source? Who?’

  ‘Agnes saw them in the chapel and came straight to me.’

  ‘Well, she has no love for Ailsa, or me for that matter.’

  ‘That’s as maybe, but I haven’t lived this long without knowing a liar when I see one. Agnes is loyal to me; she’s telling the truth. Go ask your pretty wife and watch her deny it. McDougall is gone, he has taken himself off somewhere, so we can’t ask him. Don’t be blinded by lust lad. Just because you want to bed a woman doesn’t make her worthy of your trust.’

  ‘You told me to bed her uncle, you made no bones about it if I remember rightly. Get an heir on her you said, do your duty you said.’

  ‘That was when I thought her a pretty simpering fool, not the clever little plotter she is and she has you exactly where she wants you. Lust can put a fog in the brain of the cleverest man.’

  ‘It’s not just lust uncle. I love her.’ Duncan could hardly believe he had said it aloud and to his uncle of all people. ‘And she loves me.’

  ‘If you believe that then you are a being a fool, twice over.’

  ‘Maybe I am but that’s the truth of it.’

  ‘Well it’s a weakness and you must conquer it. She cannot be trusted.’

  ‘Ailsa is my wife and under my protection so unless you have better proof of your accusations, stay out of my affairs. I return to Cailleach tomorrow.’

  ‘As you wish, Cailleach is yours now but for all our sakes be careful Duncan.’

  In spite of his better judgement and his instincts about Ailsa, Hugh’s cruel words insinuated themselves into Duncan’s heart. The fact that he utterly despised Hamish as a weak, simpering fool served to fan the flames of anger licking at Duncan’s mind.

  Trust had never come easily and the feelings of love he had for Ailsa now intensified his jealousy. That she may harbour feelings for another man was like a punch to the guts. He took the idea and rolled it over and over in his mind until it took on a life of its own and grew to a certainty. Ailsa and Hamish had been friends since childhood and Hamish was a handsome man and would one day be a powerful man if he succeeded his father to become laird. He was a more than fit consort for Ailsa and he had often seen them talking warmly to each other.

  Did she love Hamish? Had she loved him all along and had he been the means of crushing that love by forcing her into marriage? He had begun to think that Ailsa was his now but he realised that she was thus far bound to him mainly by force, not affection. So fighting to deserve her love was pointless if she had truly given her heart to another.

  And even if Ailsa did not have feelings for Hamish, a fact he struggled to believe despite his uncle’s argument, there was something greater than this which he could never conquer. Her loyalty to her people and family ran deep and he could never get past that no matter how hard he tried. She would put Clan MacLeod first, before herself, before him and she had not told him she loved him, scant difference it would have made in the mood he was in now.

  ‘Duncan.’ His uncle’s voice snapped him out of the tangle of his thoughts. ‘Go and ask her and watch your wife’s face when she gives her answer.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  The winding staircase was steep and by the time she reached the top and emerged onto Dunslair’s battlements, Ailsa was exhausted. It was crisp and clean up there and as she sucked the cold dawn air greedily into her lungs she marvelled at the jagged peaks of distant cairns against the clear horizon, like the teeth of a giant dog. Since that wonderful night with Duncan a strange lightness had been growing inside her chest, as if her heart were a bird, beating its soft wings and taking flight. The world seemed a kinder, warmer place somehow.

  A shouting below and the bustle of men entering the castle caught her eye. They were Duncan’s men, bloody and wounded. There must have been a fight but where was he? Ailsa rushed below, almost tripping down the stairs. Frantically scanning the yard she saw him, talking in earnest to one of his men and she wanted to wrap her arms around him and sink her head against his broad back and squeeze him tight. But then a fragment of conversation stopped her in her tracks.

  ‘Did you pursue them into Sinclair lands?’

  ‘Aye, but a mist fell and they slipped away under its cover. ’T’was but a few strays we didn’t manage to round up.’

  ‘Dangerous men, you fool. We needed to cut the head off the beast or it will grow again. What of Alex Sinclair?

  ‘Dead Laird, of his wounds and Robert MacLeod is well away by now.’

  ‘Robert?’ gasped Ailsa.

  Duncan whirled around. No smile, no embrace. ‘Come with me,’ was all he said, dragging her by the arm from the courtyard into the depths of the castle. ‘How much did you hear?’ he said angrily.

  ‘Enough. Who have those men been fighting and what has it to do with my brother?’

  ‘Do not concern yourself.’ His eyes were guarded.

  ‘Duncan, tell me please.’

  He sighed heavily. ‘I had hoped to explain this more gently but here it is. The Sinclairs planned to murder me on the way back to Cailleach. We ha
ve informants in their camp and so were alerted to their intentions some time ago. We turned the ambush onto them. It was brutal and bloody but it had to be done. This war will rage on until the Sinclairs’ ambitions are thwarted.’

  He was talking of death and battle in that cold, detached way of his, every inch the soldier.

  ‘Had they been successful in their plans to kill me they would have sent a large force to Cailleach to reclaim it. Your brother was to lead that force and he was at the head of the ambush that waited for me on the road.’

  ‘Robert!’

  ‘Yes, still in league with the Sinclairs but being the coward he is he has fled south. No doubt he is still running – all the way to England or beyond I shouldn’t wonder.’

  ‘Why would he still be loyal to them?’

  ‘Because he is a fool and always has been. As your kin, you cannot see him for what he really is. Regaining his position is all he cares about, no matter the cost in lives. He’s gone, you’ll not see him again.’

  ‘But he is my brother Duncan.’

  ‘Aye he is, but if he ever comes back here I will kill him,’ he snarled.

  Ailsa took a step back from him and clutched her arms about herself for comfort. Why was he so angry with her? She was not her brother. She was not to blame. ‘My people Duncan, what of them?’

  ‘They stayed out of it, a wise choice as I will brook no rebellion on my lands. A handful supported the Sinclairs but in most cases, I have earned their loyalty. They prefer to follow strength, not weakness.’

  ‘You hate Robert don’t you?’

  Duncan’s voice was getting colder and colder. ‘What do you think would have become of you if they’d killed me? You’d be free to marry again so Robert would have forced you into Alex Sinclair’s bed without a qualm. That was the plan; to sell his own sister into a lifetime of misery at the hands of a brutal man just to further his ambitions. You are many things Ailsa but never naive I think. So aye, I do hate your brother, for not protecting you as he should have and for abandoning you so completely.’

  Ailsa had to look away from him. She had scant hopes of ever seeing Robert again but now he really was gone and she was totally alone. And this man looking at her with cold anger, this hardened killer was not the man to whom she had given her heart. He was casually telling her of slaughtering his enemies on her lands, of banishing the last member of her family. It was as if Duncan had died on the road and a stranger had risen in his place. The shouting of men in the yard seemed to fall away from her as a terrible realisation dawned on her.

  ‘You told me nothing of this. After what passed between us before you left you told me nothing, that you were going to Cailleach, that you were going to fight. You lied to me.’

  Guilt spread across Duncan’s face but he held her gaze.

  ‘Why you didn’t tell me, Duncan?’

  ‘I could not tell you of my plans as secrecy was the key to their success. Only my uncle and most trusted confidantes were forewarned of what was to unfold at Cailleach and it worked. We’ve rid ourselves of the scourge of the Sinclairs, who are now so weakened I no longer have to look over my shoulder in case they are about to plunge a dagger into me. I also sought to spare you Ailsa for I flattered myself that you may have worried about me or shed a tear at my being cut down in battle.’ There was an edge to his voice, a cutting sarcasm.

  ‘Of course, I would worry for you.’ Ailsa’s head was awash with confusion and questions but anger was also stirring. ‘Before you left I gave myself to you utterly. We shared each other’s secrets. You told me of your hopes and feelings and you told me you loved me, did you not mean it?’

  ‘Yes,’ he snarled, ‘I meant it. I do love you, in spite of my better judgement I do damn it.’

  ‘How can I believe you love me when after all that passed between us you still didn’t trust me enough to tell me about this?’

  ‘I was right not to trust you. How could I when you met with Hamish McDougall the instant I took leave of the castle, throwing yourself into his arms?’

  He looked at her then in such a cold bitter way that Ailsa felt as she had once done on being thrown from a horse, the sudden stop, the abrupt contact with the ground, the breath being knocked out of her, the awful sudden pain of it. Unprepared for his anger and flustered by it she could not find the right words and stumbled over her explanation so that she sounded as though she was lying even though she told the absolute truth. And that was her undoing.

  Duncan had been clinging on to a kernel of hope that if he confronted his wife with Hugh’s accusations he would get an outraged denial from her. But on her sweet face, he saw no surprise at his question, only shame and guilt. So there it was the answer he had dreaded. ‘You were seen kissing him,’ he said coldly. ‘Go on – deny it.’

  ‘Duncan I…I can’t deny it but it was not the way it looked. I can explain.’

  ‘Enlighten me.’

  ‘Hamish came to say goodbye. He is going away and we talked for a long time. When he was leaving he grabbed me and kissed me and…and I told him not to be so foolish.’

  ‘So you let him kiss you, how could you?’ he said and he whirled and walked away from her. He was monumentally angry and struggled to master his emotions and quell the urge to punch something. But she would run after him of course rather than let him be. She had hold of his arm now, turning him. He was forced to look at her traitorous face.

  ‘I did not let him, Duncan, please.’

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said in a voice of implacable anger.

  ‘You have to believe me for it is the truth.’

  ‘Here’s the truth Ailsa. I spent these last days fighting for my life. I left you here at Dunslair thinking I may be riding to my death. I did it to protect you, to protect what had grown between us and the minute my back is turned you are found in another man’s embrace.

  He shook off her hold on him and backed away. He could hardly bear to look at her. He had been so certain his uncle’s accusations were false, he had been so certain of her. Now his mind seethed with the image of handsome Hamish McDougall with his hands and his mouth on her. ‘I remember you said to me once that you were sure Robert would return and then you would be rid of me. Maybe you knew all along about his plan to kill me and take back Cailleach.’

  ‘No of course not.’

  ‘I could have killed him you know. I should have. My sword was at his throat but I just couldn’t do it, in spite of all the trouble he has caused me I couldn’t do it. So I let him run…all because of you.’

  ‘Duncan…please.’

  ‘My uncle was right.’

  ‘Your uncle?’

  ‘Aye, Hugh told me I was a fool to trust a woman and he was right. To think I said those words to you. Now I know you will never give your love to me no matter what I do to earn it.’

  He walked quickly past her and she was alone. Ailsa’s mind was in turmoil. A fresh battle, more death, more chaos. And her brother was gone for good and Duncan was so angry, loyalty was everything to him and now he thought she had betrayed him.

  She couldn’t deny there was an element of truth in what he thought of her. She had intended to keep what had happened a secret, as she feared what Duncan would do in the face of Hamish’s stupidity. There would be no way he would ignore such an injury to her honour or his. She had felt guilty about doing so but it was better for everyone if he did not know. It had meant nothing, a mere piece of foolishness on Hamish’s part but now her husband had learnt the truth from someone else he could never believe her version of events. She looked like a liar whatever she said and Duncan had so easily seen her as guilty; that shocked her more than anything.

  Their intimacy and trust, so recently nurtured, was too fragile to survive the poison of Dunslair and his old loyalties. It mattered not that she no longer wanted to betray him, could not do so because of how she was beginning to feel about him. In a world of enemies and strangers, he had become her support but the fact was he did not trust her
. He would not whisper words of love to her again. He would not be made a fool of.

  Ailsa made her way back to her chamber trying to calm herself. Her stomach was starting to churn in anguish. There was so much worry on her shoulders it was unbearable. Her breathing was frantic to her ears. She loosened her bodice as a wave of heat washed over her and the world darkened. Ailsa managed to grab a bowl and was violently sick over and over. Feverish and weak, she dragged herself into bed, curling into a ball amongst the furs and crying wretchedly.

  In the great hall that evening Ailsa sat pale-faced hardly eating anything. It seemed any conversation anyone tried to make with her drove her to the edge of tears. Duncan could not decide if she was ill or if having been found out in her deception, she was now facing the awful reality that both Hamish and Robert had gone and she was trapped in a marriage to someone she hated.

  Either way, seething with rage and disappointment, Duncan did not know how to proceed. If it had been anyone else other than that cur, whom he had always despised as a weak fool. He now saw his wife’s deception through a twisted lens of jealousy, imagining the two of them together, furtive looks, and hushed conversations in secret corners. Had she told her lover what a disgusting brute he was for forcing her into his bed? Had she confided her revulsion at having to give her body to her enemy? Had they laughed at the words of love he had uttered? What a pathetic creature he must seem compared to the man she really wanted - handsome, charming Hamish McDougall.

  Late that night some cruel impulse made Duncan go to Ailsa, though he knew he was only causing himself pain. He climbed the stairs to her chamber in abject misery, scarce believing that the happiness and certainty of a few days ago had been replaced with doubt and disappointment.

  The night before their parting at he had arrived at a place where he was ready to believe she cared something for him and he had left her bed willing to do anything for her, to die for her.