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The Black Wolf

Page 13

by Fela Dawson Scott


  He stood and crossed to Kolyn, and knelt in front of her. "I too missed you fiercely." He took her hand and brought it to his lips. He felt her tremble and looked into her eyes, feeling lost in the green pools. "I have nearly gone mad with fear for you. Certainly you can see the foolishness of these raids. 'Tis time you came t' your senses, lass."

  "Foolishness?" Anger tingled deep inside Kolyn. She pulled her hand from her uncle's, uncomfortable with his touch. "He thinks that because I am a woman he cannot fight me. So we shall continue our foolishness and see how long it takes for him to change his mind."

  But as soon as she said the words, she knew they came from only one part of herself. She felt split, torn apart inside. She'd never wanted any part of the feud. She'd been coerced by her father, her brother, a sense of shame, of obligation. Then she'd met Ian, and had grown to know the man. Had grown to love him. Where in all this was the right path for her to take, to protect Andrew, to pull herself together, to find some sanity and peace?

  Dwight stood, his body stiff and unyielding. "I'll challenge him in your name, Kolyn. Do not be so stubborn."

  Confusion reigned free, tearing at Kolyn and her thoughts. As the MacGregor, the Black Wolf had ridiculed her, laughed at her. As Lynn, he had made love to her. Which was it to be? She wasn't Lynn. It had been a deception. A means to get close to him. Close enough to kill him. But she had failed. She'd had the chance to put a knife through his heart and she hadn't. She was weak. She had allowed herself to feel something for a man she had sworn to kill. A man who despised her. What a fool she had been to allow his charming ways to disarm her. Never again! This she swore to herself. "We shall ride out tomorrow night, Dwight. Have the men ready. I'll not hear your arguments again."

  Dwight gave no further argument. He started to leave, but paused and asked, "Why do you not wear the ring of the MacGregor, Kolyn?" Kolyn felt for the ring about her neck, and for the first time realized that it was gone. She had left it under her pillow at the inn. "Oh, my," she whispered in despair.

  "What is it, lass?"

  She couldn't meet Dwight's look of concern. "I must have lost it in the forest." Quickly, she tried to cover up her fear. She couldn't risk returning for it. It would be too dangerous. "I'll have another made for you," Dwight said. "A smaller ring, so it will fit you better and not slip off." "No," she said as calmly as she could. "'Tis my own carelessness at fault. I can do without it."

  Dwight frowned. "'Tis a symbol of who you are." "It would cost too much and we've more important things to worry about at this time, Dwight." When she said no more, Dwight left. She prayed no one would find it.

  Ian wanted to go crazy with the anger built up inside him, but he held it down, chilling its heat with indifference. He looked at the couple sitting across the rough-hewn table, their faces showing little as he continued to question them. Ian had known Ronald and Jean a long time, helping them when he could, but mostly leaving them be as they wished it. They were proud people and he admired their fortitude.

  "Ronald, I would like to find Lynn. I need to see her again." Ian looked from Ronald to Jean, neither seeming to understand fully the situation. The past day had been pure hell. "If she had wanted you t' know where she's gone, she would have told you, Lord Blackstone. We cannot help you." Ronald's comment caused the muscle in Ian's jaw to twitch, his patience to run quite thin. "I mean her no harm, surely you know that."

  "Aye," Jean said softly. "We do not fear for her. We just don't know more about her. She came into our lives a stranger and left the same. We knew her only as Lynn." Ian felt confused by these people who kept to themselves. "You never asked her where she came from?" "Did you?" Ronald asked quietly. "No," he mumbled. "I didn't even know her full name." "Perhaps she will come back." Jean touched Ian's hand in a kind, sympathetic way.

  "Perhaps." Ian stood. "Thank you for your time. If you see her again, will you tell her I am looking for her?"

  "Yes." Jean smiled. "I will tell her." Ian left the small cottage and walked to where Geoffrey stood with the horses. "Do you think she'll come back here?" Geoffrey asked.

  Ian shrugged. "I just don't know, Geoff. Nothing about the woman seems predictable."

  Kolyn looked at the door before her, preparing herself for the confrontation she knew lay ahead. She had put her brother off for a full day and knew she could not do so any longer. Pulling her shoulders back, she opened the door and stepped inside. "So, you've decided to pay a visit to your dear brother after all. I thought maybe you might have forgotten me."

  As usual, Emmett was in a foul mood. Kolyn shut the door behind her. At least Jacob wasn't about. "Of course I wouldn't forget you, Emmett." She crossed to him and kissed him on the cheek he had turned away from her, much like a child in a tantrum. "I think it's dreadful I must learn of your return from the servants. You disappear without a trace, then reappear just as mysteriously. What have you to say for yourself?"

  "Nothing, actually." Kolyn had no patience for this. "I'm back, and that is what counts."

  His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I agree with Dwight. You aren't telling us everything." "Make of it what you will, Emmett. Surely between you and Dwight you can make up a wild tale." What an intolerable person he had become. She punched the pillow she held, then placed it behind him.

  This made Emmett laugh. "My, you seem to be spirited, dear sister. I will be curious to find out exactly what did transpire during your absence." He grabbed her arm, his grip painful. "I will find out, Kolyn. Remember, I know all your secrets." She wrestled her arm free, then stepped away from the bed. "How can you be so hateful?"

  "How?" Emmett screamed. "How, you ask? You know damn well how, you bitch! You'd best be taking care of that promise you made me, or I'll see you never forget how hateful I am. Get out!"

  When she didn't move, he picked up a book from his nightstand and hurled it at her. She easily ducked it, and it slammed against the wall "Get out," he yelled, his eyes wild, his face screwed up with hate.

  Kolyn left. Only the smallest sliver of a moon hung from the dark sky, but Kolyn studied it for the longest time before moving to the rocking chair in front of her fire. It had been a long, emotionally tiring day, yet sleep did not come easily. She sighed and closed her eyes. Visions immediately disturbed her.

  "Mommy."

  Andrew's soft voice broke through, and she opened her eyes to find her son standing by her. "Why aren't you in bed, young man? It's very late." "Can I stay with you?"

  She reached out and pulled him into her lap. "Of course you can." She kissed his forehead, and he cuddled against her, his head resting upon her shoulder. In moments, he slept, his soft breathing comforting to her ears. Once again, a fierceness struggled forth, claiming control of her emotions. Whatever she must do to protect her child, she would do. That was the one thing she knew for certain.

  Ian stared at the ceiling of his room, wondering where Lynn was that night. Did she have family to go home to? Did she think of him? Frustration and anger surged through him again, causing him to stand and resume his pacing. The fire had burned low, but he didn't stop to replenish it. He only stopped every now and then to drink from the flagon of wine he carried. Maybe if he drank enough he could sleep. Maybe he could wipe the visions from his mind: the sparkle of sea-green eyes, the velvet of her skin soft beneath his touch. Rose-tipped lips beckoned to him. Mere thoughts aroused him. He took another drink.

  Ainsley stood outside the door to her son's chambers and listened to him pace. She knocked. 'Enter."

  She opened the heavy door and met his golden gaze, the sadness in them disturbing to her. "Ian. What has upset you so? You've said little since coming home tonight."

  "'Tis nothing. Go back to sleep, Mother."

  Disappointment tempted her to ask again, but she did not. "I'll not pry. Whey you are ready to speak to me, I shall be ready to listen." Ainsley turned to leave. "It's a great comfort to know you'll be there."

  "I love you. When something troubles you, it troubles me. 'Tis
the way of mothers. Good night, Ian."

  Ian watched the door close. It wasn't that he was keeping secrets from her. What could he tell her? That she was right? He had succeeded in seducing Lynn? Even worse, that he had seduced a virgin and when he'd awakened she was nowhere to be found? Had Lynn been so horrified at what she had done that she'd fled? Was his mother right about her touching his soul? Why else did he want to find her so badly? And if he did, then what?

  Ian had no answers to these questions. It would be a long night. A long night indeed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The clash of metal on metal rang out, accented by the groans of each man as he strained beneath the other's attack. A long, slow grin crossed Geoffrey's face as he pressed Ian with his assault. "You are gettin' as slow as an old woman, my friend."

  Ian's answer was more like a grunt than a word, but he expressed his response better with the swing of his claymore, the blow stilling Geoffrey's smile. Again he brought the sword around. Again Geoffrey met his blow, the sound echoing about the courtyard. The two men worked hard, one gaining the edge, then the other.

  "Old woman," Ian ground out. "You seem a mite tired yourself, Geoff." The smile came back. "Not at all. Not at all." Both men were bare-chested despite the cold, sweat bringing a shine to their skin. Muscles strained, their arms tiring beneath the weight of steel.

  "Have you had enough?" Ian asked. "Not nearly," Geoffrey said, meeting Ian's great blow with the last of his strength. He sank onto a knee, but held strong. Out of the corner of his eye, Ian saw Ainsley, her step quick as she moved toward them. "Well, I've had enough for today," Ian declared, helping Geoffrey to his feet. "You're as strong as a bull, old friend."

  Geoffrey slapped him across the back and laughed heartily. "You are a liar, Ian, but that's what I like about you." They walked to where Ainsley now stood waiting, and Ian greeted his mother. "Good morning. What brings you out here, Mother?" "Good mornin', Lady Blackstone," Geoffrey said with a nod.

  Ainsley smiled, but her smile looked forced. "It seems, son, that Kolyn MacGregor decided to help herself to a few of your pigs last night." A tremor went through Ian. Whether it was anger or dread, he didn't know. He had hoped she was done with this nonsense. "How many is a few?" "A dozen or so."

  Ian remained silent for a long moment, uncertain what to do about this woman who had made such a nuisance of herself. There had been a long break with no raids, then suddenly, twice in one week. "I think I will go hunting. Do you want to join me, Geoff?" Ainsley couldn't hide her surprise. "Hunting?"

  "Yes. We could use some venison in our cellar. You said so just the other day." Ian took her hand and kissed it gently. "I'll be gone a week or so. Can you manage?" "Of course," Ainsley said softly. Then she smiled. "I am proud of you, Ian." "Whatever for?" "For not allowing this woman to anger you."

  "It's just a few pigs. I gladly give them to her." He turned to his friend. "We leave within the hour, Geoff."

  Andrew's high-pitched squeal made Kolyn laugh. Andrew ran after one puppy, then another. His excitement reached the mother dog, and she started barking, adding to the chorus of her offsprings' yapping, the mixture of noises echoing about the great chamber. Andrew picked up a cuddly puppy and returned him to the giant basket where his mother lay, then retrieved another. As fast as he brought them back, they scurried out, finally tiring

  Andrew out. He sat near the basket, and the bitch licked his flushed cheeks as he hugged a tiny fur ball to him.

  Kolyn thought of Dax and hoped he was being taken care of. She hated leaving him and the goose behind, but she'd had no choice. It was best this way, just as it was best she had left that part of her life behind. If only the feelings were so easy to be rid of. "'Tis good t' see you smiling again."

  Kolyn glanced up to where Dwight stood by her chair, but she couldn't bring herself to look into his eyes. She looked back to where Andrew sat among the little of puppies, his attention on them. She didn't say anything.

  Dwight remained standing. "I thought I would go mad with worry for you, Kolyn. But 'tis naught compared t' the madness you create with your silence."

  She bowed her head and studied her hands as they twisted together. "I've had little to say." "Why do you not trust me, lass?" This brought her gaze up to meet his. "I trust you, Dwight. You are my family." "'Tis my weakness that disturbs you." A rush of emotion robbed her mind of its control. "I must confess that your drinking does disturb me. It will bring only destruction to you, Uncle. You must stop." "You lie and that hurts me," he cried out, his tortured eyes haunted, pained. "Is my love for you so unbearable?"

  Kolyn wanted to run away, to pretend he had not said the words she dreaded to hear. "Uncle, you know it cannot be. You must never speak of it again." Dwight grabbed her by the arms and jerked Kolyn from her chair, his face reflecting his fury. "Do you think I have not tried t' put it from me? That I have not prayed t' God t' save me wicked soul? This passion consumes me, Kolyn. I cannot deny it any more than I can deny I love you."

  His words struck deep and painful, the horror of what he said clear in each tormented word. She tried to pull away, to free herself of his hurting touch. "Dwight, do not say more, I cannot bear it!" He paused, as if he were understanding the suffering he caused. Then he pulled her closer, his arms like steel about her. "I cannot stop loving you. I cannot."

  His lips came down on hers, demanding and cruel. Kolyn twisted to free herself, but to no avail, his strength so much greater than hers. Panic seized her and quelled all tenderness to his agony. She struck out, her nails raking across his face. "No," she mumbled, and bit down on his lip. Yelling, Dwight pulled back, his look murderous.

  "Mommy!" Andrew ran to where they stood. Kolyn lifted him in her arms. "I'm all right, Drew. It's time to go to bed." Timidly, Andrew reached out and laid a chubby hand on his uncle's cheek, obviously confused by their argument. "Good night, Uncle Dwight." The big man stepped back, guilt washing across his features. Unable to look at Kolyn, he muttered, "Good night, my boy."

  Andrew in her arms, Kolyn ran from the room. Dwight watched Kolyn leave, then turned away, sickened by his own actions. He slumped into the chair, still warm from her body. His heart ached and his mind revolted. He could not trust himself to go upstairs, to go near where she slept.

  Tears came to his eyes as the shame played out its destruction in him. "God help me!" he cried out to the empty room. He dropped his head into his hands. "God help me." Kolyn set the candle aside and knelt by the old trunk. The attic was damp and cold, but she was not ready to go back to her room and the sleepless night that lay before her.

  The hinges objected as Kolyn opened the old trunk. Its musty smell reminded her of the years it had been shut away. Memories came with each item she removed, taking her back to a happier, gentler time. She cradled the small hand-carved doll in her arms, the doll's dress lovingly made by her mother. She discovered the old wooden blocks, their paint chipped, the figures on each side worn smooth. A book covered in faded fabric lay on the bottom, nearly hidden by old baby clothes. Kolyn dug it out.

  At first, Kolyn didn't recognize it. When she opened it, she recalled the long hours Emmett had spent writing in it. His words were youthful, vibrant, romantic all of which were no longer a part of the man she knew today.

  It seemed so long ago. Kolyn closed the book and laid it aside. She continued to examine each item, piling the baby clothes and toys to the side. What she didn't need, she placed back inside the trunk. She closed the lid, along with her memories, taking the small pile of things for Jean's baby. And the book filled with Emmett's poetry.

  Ian stood among the trees, his presence obscured by the evergreens, his scent drifting away from the buck he watched. He remained still and quiet, the only sounds the natural noises of the forest. Slowly, he raised his bow.

  The red deer stag darted off, its long legs bringing it to a full run in seconds. Ian and Geoffrey raced after it, crossing a small meadow to follow it into the dense forest. The animal forded a smal
l ravine, and they continued pursuit, never slowing their pace as they pounded downhill, then scrambled up again, their feet barely touching the moss-covered ground. They closed in, their prey within sight.

  At a full run, Ian brought his bow up and fired. His aim was true. The buck fell. Ian and Geoffrey came to a halt beside the dead animal, its rack large and proud. Ian leaned upon his bow and caught his breath. "Thank you, Lord, for providing us such a worthy and noble opponent. This mighty animal shall provide food for many."

  "Aye," Geoffrey agreed, his eyes still bright from the challenge. "It has been a good trip, Ian. 'Tis time to go home." "We'll start in the morning, Geoffrey. I think I'll take this one to Jean and Ronald. We'll still have plenty to take back to Stonehaven." Geoffrey smiled. "Do you think she's come back to their place?"

  Ian didn't like being reminded that he still could not put the lass from his mind. "I always take some venison to them. It has nothing to do with Lynn."

  "Of course not," Geoffrey quipped, agreeing but certainly not believing. "I'll take the rest of the meat back to Stonehaven."

  "You shouldn't have brought so many things, Lynn."

 

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