Chapter Two
The sadness of the music vibrated through Kolyn. Each strangled note of the bagpipes reflected her sorrow, her fear. As the music gathered momentum, so did the beat of her heart and the degree of her pain. Her father had been a hard man, filled with anger and hate, but she had loved him. As Kolyn looked upon his coffin, she realized how much she would miss him.
Grief.
It was too much a part of her life. There had been years of loss. First her eldest brother, Emmett, crippled; then Malcolm lowered to his grave and covered with the dark earth; and now Gilles buried too. Kolyn had argued with Gilles the night before he was to meet the Black Wolf in challenge, but he would not be convinced
that it was insane. She could do nothing to stop Gilles's actions, any more than she could stop her father's hatred.
Kolyn's gaze moved to her mother's headstone. Memories flooded over her, comforting her in her time of grief. For the moment, sadness and pain drifted away as thoughts took her back. She could almost feel her loving touch, hear her gentle laughter, smell the scent of heather she wore. Her mother had been so patient with her, the influence of three older brothers making it difficult for Kolyn to know whether to be a boy or a girl. In the end, her mother's counseling had won out.
To this day, Kolyn tried to be a lady, just as Katherine had taught her. But now she was the MacGregorthe men in her life still influencing her, still at war with what her mother wanted her to be, with what she wanted to be. A chill wracked Kolyn from head to toe, a chill of dread and fear. What kind of madness had taken her?
She looked down at Andrew's small head of black hair and lovingly stroked the soft curls. A fierceness grabbed her, and she knew what had possessed her. Her father's question rolled across her mind . . . Will you kill this man for the sake of your clan? Another question followed: How far would she go?
Kolyn knew the answer. She would walk through Hell and battle the Devil himself to keep Drew safe. And perhaps the Devil was Ian Blackstone, just as everyone said. Dwight MacDougal stood a respectful distance behind Kolyn MacGregor, but his eyes never left her. He studied her delicate shoulders and wondered at the strength she possessed.
Anger muddled his thoughts and compromised his loyalties. All his life he had been his brother's right hand, his devotion to the MacGregor never faltering, until now. Guilt assaulted him. Hadn't his father and half brother's generosity provided him his place in life? Dwight and his mother might well have wasted away in poverty had it not been for the MacGregor. He was a bastard child, with no right to title or wealth. Yet he had lived with his brother, accepted as family, none shaming him. Still, it angered him that the honor of the clan fell to Kolyn. He had expected revenge to be his, had wanted his brother to trust this deed to him. And another matter caused him grief. It was this very person he watched intently.
She was so very much like Katherine. She looked so much like her mother, Dwight could not remember any difference at all. She had the same fiery hair, cascading in abundant curls well below her waist. Her eyes were the same green, vivid and full of life. The same ivory skin, touched by roses on her cheeks, her lips . . .
Deliberately, Dwight stopped himself, not trusting where his thoughts were going. He dabbed at the sweat that dampened his upper lip with the back of his hand, his lip curling in distaste at his own weakness. Katherine was dead, and she had been his brother's wife, not his. Kolyn was not Katherine. He would do well to remember that.
Yet he found it difficult to bring his emotions under control. His heart seemed to have a will of its own, constricting painfully as he saw Kolyn step forward with Andrew's small hand in her own. She bent to cup a handful of the damp earth, sharing the contents with her son. Together they scattered it over the coffin of her father, then repeated the ritual over her brother, Gilles. When she turned back, Dwight stepped forward and took her elbow. "Come, let's go home, lass."
Kolyn lifted the tray from the table and maneuvered around its great width. The smell of freshly baking bread filled the warm air, and the meat already sizzled as it roasted on the spit. Nellie walked from the pantry, her arms filled as she began preparing for the day's meals, a soft hum reaching Kolyn's ears. "Now," Nellie called out as Kolyn slipped through the door, "just leave that tray upstairs, lass. No need for you t' lug it down as well." "'Tis no trouble, Nellie."
The Great Hall seemed so large and empty, the great feasts she remembered as a child forgotten in the past few years. Each step echoed off the stone flooring, no belly-cheer warming its coldness. No fire burned in the huge fire-basket that claimed most of one wall, and the hie burde, the raised platform, was abandoned. The window seat cushions looked worn, as did the tapestry's faded artwork that graced the hall. The chambray stood empty, Kolyn's father having sold off their plate of pewter and silver years ago. This saddened Kolyn and she rushed through to the stairs.
Slowly, she climbed the long winding staircase, balancing the tray with each careful step. Huge portraits of ancestors long dead stared down at her. Painted eyes seemed to reflect the importance of family honor, sober faces reminded her of her duty to the clan. Everything around her haunted Kolyn, leaving her shaken and confused, filled with the grief and pain of all her lossesthe loss of her own identity among them.
Kolyn stood for a moment in front of her brother's chamber door, pulling her mind from its turmoil to concentrate on what was to come. She eased open the heavy door with her elbow, keeping everything on the tray balanced. The squeak of the hinge announced her entrance, drawing her brother's gaze to her. She forced a smile and a note of cheerfulness in her voice.
"Good morning, Emmett." Kolyn looked at Jacob, Emmett's manservant, and gave him a smile too. His expression remained a stony mask of indifference. Regardless of her feelings, Kolyn had always tried to be civil to him, though at times she wondered why she bothered. Since she was a child she had never trusted the hard, stiff man, and still didn't. And now, she trusted him even less, knowing he was her brother's source of information about all that went on in Gregor Castle. She turned her attention back to Emmett. "Did you sleep well?"
Green eyes, the same shape as her own, narrowed, the look in them one of anger. Emmett was still handsome, but Kolyn could see his disability had aged him beyond his 31 years. The MacGregor men had inherited the intense green of their mother's eyes, but none had her fiery red hair. Instead they all looked much like their father, with strong, square faces surrounded by thick, brown hair. Their temperament also matched the MacGregor's in quickness and intensity, this one trait making Emmett so difficult to deal with.
"I slept as I always do, dear sister, fitfully. It's a good thing I have nothing to do but lie around, so I can nap, like a babe in his crib." She tried to ignore his bitter words, but could not keep the blush from heating her face. Emmett laughed, the sharpness making Kolyn wince as she placed the tray on a table near the window. Jacob moved to her side, preparing to take over.
"You may go, Jacob. I wish to visit with my brother a while." Jacob merely nodded. His thin, chiseled features never revealed anything to Kolyn, yet she sensed his dislike of her. With a straight back and slow, deliberate stride, Jacob left them alone. Kolyn wondered if anything would ever make him break his constant, even pace.
"Did you bury them properly, Kolyn?" Moving to the window, Kolyn pulled open the drapes to allow the sun to shine in. Emmett moaned and pulled the bedcover over his eyes. "Are you trying to kill me! Close the damn thingsI prefer the darkness!"
Kolyn didn't pay any heed to his tantrum. "You need some sunshine, Emmett. It's gloomy in here." Gloomy didn't seem to be the right word for Emmett's sparse, cold room. She suspected that he intentionally kept it that way, making his bedroom a prison. "'Tis the way I like it. That devil of a man has plunged me into a living hell, and I prefer not to see it too clearly."
Heat rose inside Kolyn, as it always did when he was like this. "Feeling sorry for yourself will not help." "Yes," Emmett barked. "It does. Do not deny me this small bit o
f pleasure when I have no other." Kolyn bit back her response and unfolded the napkin carefully. Then she picked up the bowl of porridge. She stepped over to the bed, pulled the chair beside it, and sat. "Here, you'd best eat while it's hot."
Neatly, she tucked the napkin into his nightshirt, fully aware he was studying her. She offered him the bowl, but he made no move to take it. She lifted a spoonful to his lips, treating him like the child he mimicked. He turned away. "Please, Emmett. You must eat." "Why? It would be best if I died."
Taking a deep breath, Kolyn placed the spoon back into the bowl, Emmett didn't answer for a moment. "It should be what I want, to end my miserable existence. But I want to live. I want to live so I can see that bastard dead. I want to take the devil to hell with me."
"The Black Wolf is but a man, Emmett." "No," he yelled, his arm sending the bowl across the room, the thick porridge marking the path it had taken before crashing against the wall. "He is not a man, and you would do well to remember that." Kolyn started to stand, but Emmett stopped her, his grip on her arm strong and painful. "You have promised to see the Black Wolf dead, to kill the devil himself. 'Tis no easy task. Three have died trying, and I lay forever in this coffin of a bed because of his unnatural strength. He cannot be killed, not in a challenge.''
"How then will I do what you could not?" "Are you truly so innocent?" Emmett reached out and pushed back a stray curl, then caressed her cheek. "A woman has ways of getting close to a man, and you, dear sister, are too beautiful for any man to resist." "I . . . I could not," Kolyn whispered. The hand that had stroked her so gently grabbed her face cruelly. "You will do what you must! You are the MacGregor now."
Kolyn broke away and stood, facing her brother. "You ask too much." "Too much!" he yelled. "He crippled me! Look!" Emmett threw back the cover to show his lifeless legs to her. "Look what he did to me!" Licking her dry lips, Kolyn fought to keep tears back. "He caught you with his wife."
"She was to be my wife, not his." "Blair was in love with Blackstone. Had her father not forbidden her to marry him because of his English blood, you would not have been engaged to her at all." "Damn you, Kolyn. He stole her away on my wedding day. He made a fool of me!" Anger brought life to Kolyn. "You men make fools of each other, and then you kill each other in the name of honor. Where does it stop?"
"It stops only when he is dead." "And I am the one who must kill him." Kolyn stepped closer. "I am the one you expect to spread my legs for him, so I can kill him as he sleeps. You are mad, just like Father was mad. I will not be a part of this sickness that claims your mind." Emmett smiled a smile that sent chills down her spine. She turned away and took a step toward the door.
"You have no choice, Kolyn."
This stopped her. "Let the clan banish me. I'll not kill him for you." Kolyn didn't know where that had come from, only that she had said it. Hadn't she vowed to walk through Hell to keep Andrew safe? How could she care for him if they were shunned? They would starve. "Banishment is not your worst fate, dear sister." Something in his voice made her turn back. She waited to hear what he had to say.
"Do you think that because I am a cripple I no longer have full use of my brain? I know the secret you hide, kolyn." She swallowed hard. "I hide no secrets from you, Emmett." He merely smiled slowly, deliberately. "Do you think I do not see your secret each time I look at Drew?"
What . . ." Her voice threatened to reveal her fear, but she stilled its tremor. "What do you mean?" "I mean . . ." Emmett drew his words out, obviously taking delight in his cleverness. "I mean that Drew is Blackstone's son."
Kolyn felt the blood drain from her head and the strength leave her legs. Obviously Jacob was more thorough in his spying than she had dared think, and her brother even more devious. She sank to the floor. "It wasn't so difficult for me to put it all together. Doesn't it worry you others may discover this fact too?" "You wouldn't!" Horror swept over Kolyn, numbing her mind. "Emmett, please . . ."
Emmett laughed again; his callousness brought tears to her eyes. "He is not Blackstone's son," she cried. "You are lying. I know Blair was with child. She told me that night we were making love." His smile widened. "Do I shock you, little sister?" Grasping at straws, Kolyn said, "Blair didn't know who the father was. Drew could be your son." "Stop with your lies," he yelled. "Look at him. He's a little Black Wolf. She may not have known when she was carrying the child, but she knew when he was born."
"Stop it, stop it," Kolyn cried, putting her hands over her ears.
Emmett leaned over and pulled her hands away. "What do you think the villagers will think when they learn that you had Blackstone's son, that you betrayed your people to sleep with the Devil." "They wouldn't believe you." "Wouldn't they? You left for the summer right after my accident. You didn't return till fall when they brought the animals down from the mountain pastures. You brought back an abandoned babe to raise, but you never mentioned that it was Blair's child. Many assumed it was yours."
"You don't know that," she argued. "Don't I?" Kolyn wanted to say something, to dispute his accusations. She said nothing. "Blair abandoned Drew when he was born. She spent the next three months working like the whore she was. Then she became ill. She sent for you when she knew she would die. Kind-hearted creature that you are, you went to her. You promised her never to reveal who Drew's father was, to keep him safe from Blackstone."
Tears flowed down her cheeks. "Everyone turned from Blair. Her family, her husband, her lover. She had no one." "She was a whore!" Emmett shouted. A dreadful feeling struck Kolyn as she stared at her brother. Saliva drooled from the corner of his mouth as he screamed at her, and a strange glimmer lit something frightening deep in his eyes.
"They would stone you, Kolyn, perhaps even burn you for being in league with the Devil. 'Tis a terrible way to die." She opened her mouth, but she could not utter a sound. "What do you think would happen to Drew? The son of the Devil" "He is an innocent, you cannot mean" she gasped.
"I cannot predict what these superstitious fools might do. And what about Blackstone himself? What might he do when he learns Blair's child is not dead as everyone believes. One look at Drew will tell him the truth. Blackstone abandoned his wife when she was with child, sentencing them both to a cruel death. What might he do to the child if he discovered he lives?"
His meaning was clear, and it terrified her. "I will kill him, Emmett. I will do whatever you say." "Good," Emmett sneered, his gaze following her as she stood and walked to the door. "Send Jacob to clean me and change my bedding. Napping isn't the only child-like habit I have since being condemned to this bed."
"You cannot mean t' carry out your promise?" Dwight MacDougal's words echoed about the great chamber, the large room void of the family warmth that used to gather around the large stone fireplace. Even the quiet, loving times spent with Drew seemed slight in comparison to past memories. Kolyn turned away from the window and let the worn draperies fall back over the rain-spattered panes. "Of course I do, Dwight."
Her uncle moved closer, disapproval plain on his square face. His hooded eyes drew together in worry, reminding her of her father. "Have all your senses left you, Kolyn? Two of your brothers and your father have died, while Emmett lays in the tower a cripple for life. The Black Wolf is not a joking matter." A strange anger touched Kolyn, spreading slowly inside her. "I make no jokes. I will see Ian Blackstone dead."
Dwight threw up his hands in total frustration. "You're mad!""No, I'm not mad." "You are! You cannot fight Blackstone. He'll kill you. Do you understand?" Kolyn's anger increased, more from her hopelessness than from Dwight's argument. "Of course I understand. I'm not without my senses. I do know what dead is. I've known little but death the last five years. And I do realize I cannot fight him."
"At least you're talking sensibly now." "I said I cannot fight him, but I will kill him."
This caused Dwight to stop his irritating pacing. He turned his tall frame to face her. "What is it you're thinking, lass? Has the Devil taken you t' his heart?" Something
seemed to snap in Kolyn, a red haze floating over her like a thin veil, blocking all caution. "I'll do anything, I mean anything, Uncle, to keep this ugliness that has claimed the MacGregor men from Andrew. I'll take the devil Blackstone himself to bed if that's what it requires. I'll not let my son suffer for this so-called honor of the clan."
"You go too far, Kolyn." Dwight slapped her hard across the face, the sound loud in the sudden silence that engulfed them. She saw his face instantly register horror at what he had done, and the shame of it soon followed.
"Kolyn, I did not mean t' hurt you." Dwight placed the hand that had struck her on her reddened cheek. "I cannot bear t' hear you talking of death and killing so casually." Kolyn placed her own hand over his large one and turned her head to kiss his palm. "You are family, and you are forgiven, Uncle Dwight."
Dwight pulled his hand away, her innocent touch undoing his composure. He focused his gaze on an object across the room, something less emotional, less painful. He felt his heart beat, the warmth that flooded him not from his anger, but from a more insistent feeling and need. He swallowed hard. For the second time that day, he experienced overpowering desire. Anger was safer than this.
The Black Wolf Page 2