The Black Wolf

by Fela Dawson Scott

  Then he felt sheepish, foolish. What had he expected? Did he really think she would give up trying to kill him just because he had married her? And what of the baby? Did he think that would change her thinking?

  It was true, he was the biggest of fools. He had been gullible enough to trust Blair in his youth, and it seemed he had not changed all that much since. Time and the feud had only hardened him, not really changing his true nature. The anger toward Kolyn turned inward, and he could not forgive himself for his childishness. He would have to be more careful. Obviously, she could not be trusted. Why couldn't he love a simple-minded woman who wanted only to please him in every way?

  Ian lay back down to sleep, then thought better of it. He stood and went to the door. He wanted to rest without worrying about Kolyn sneaking in and stabbing him in the night. He threw the bolt and returned to his bed. "Damn woman," he muttered, jerking the covers over his shoulders before settling down. Kolyn stood for the longest time, staring out her window into the darkness, her mind seeing only her nightmares. She had no feelings, her tormenting thoughts killing them.

  Time inched by, and soon the sun began to rise, the mist that lay across the moors swirling in the graying light, finally disappearing as the sun's warmth touched it. Tonight would be the celebration Molly planned, the village turning out to congratulate Lord Blackstone on his marriage.

  This thought prompted a wry smile. If only the people knew the truth . . . what would they think? A soft knock interrupted her turbulent thoughts. Kolyn did not answer, she merely stared at the door. Slowly, it opened.

  Ian looked in, then walked to where she stood by the window. ''I couldn't sleep," he said.

  Kolyn still said nothing, her mind clinging to the image of Andrew in dangerdwelling on her helplessness, her despair, her desperation. "Please tell me what you are thinking." Ian tried to pull her chin up to look in her eyes, but she turned away. "If I didn't know better . . ." Ian paused, looking down on her head, her back stiff and unyielding. "I'd think you wanted to kill me."

  This brought her gaze back to his, her look murderous. Ian realized it wasn't just indignant anger that caused it, but a real desire to see him dead. Now he regretted his words. "The first time I saw you, I asked what you wanted from me. You declared that you wanted me dead." Kolyn remained silent and frustration pushed him on. "Let's not play at games, Kolyn. Why don't you just tell me the truth? You still want me dead."

  "And if I do confess such thoughts, what do you plan to do? Be the gentleman and kill yourself for me?" He couldn't help but laugh, despite the strangeness of their conversation. "I never said I was a gentleman." "No." She did agree with him on that point. "You never did." Ian leaned down and whispered close to Kolyn's ear, his warm breath sending tingles to her toes. "What must I do to convince you I am worthy of your forgiveness?"

  Kolyn closed her eyes to gather her will. How could one man do so much damage to her reserve? "'Tis not a matter of forgiveness, Ian. I forgave you long ago." It was true. She had continued to speak the words, to claim to all he must pay for the death of her brothers and father. But deep in her heart, she had forgiven him. She bore him no malice for his part in their deaths. How ironic she would discover this now.

  "You have a strange way of showing it, Kolyn." "Aye," she said sadly. "I only hope there is forgiveness in your heart as well." "What is it I am to forgive?" "My weaknesses." She spoke softly, more to herself than to Ian. She had said too much already and knew she must be more careful. He was suspicious, and that made things more difficult. Ian didn't understand what she meant, but he let it be. It was enough she no longer thought him totally responsible for the feud.

  He had never truly felt guilt for meeting the men of her family in challengeit was a matter of honor, the way of men. But to have her feel he was the reason for what had happened in her life had caused him grief. He felt good to be rid of it. Ian didn't speak again as they watched the sun climb higher into the early morning sky. He recalled their lovemaking tender and beautiful. He relived their arguments ugly and hateful. Their relationship remained so confused, they didn't know whether they loved or hated.

  "I will be back tonight to take you to the village. Mother said she would bring you something to wear." Kolyn's voice was soft, tormented. "It doesn't seem right." Ian didn't know to what she referred. "What doesn't"

  She looked up, her eyes filled with doubt. "It doesn't seem right to celebrate our marriage. It seems a lie."

  "Is it a lie, Kolyn?"

  Kolyn felt her throat tighten and tears were close by. "Aye. Marriage should be about love, not just a child created by accident." "In time" She put her hand up and stopped Ian. She couldn't bear to hear him say it. "No." She knew better. "Please go, Ian. I wish to rest for a while."

  Kolyn watched Ian leave. She did not rest. Instead she paced the room, her mind running through a cycle of continual torment. When Ainsley's knock sounded, it startled her, the passing of time having no meaning in her mind. When Kolyn didn't answer straightaway, Ainsley opened the door and called to her. "May I come in, Kolyn?"

  "Aye." She had managed an answer, but her mind still whirled away from collected thoughts. "I thought you might like a hot bath, and I've brought you something to wear. I hope you don't mind." She struggled to maintain her composure. "Not at all. It was very thoughtful of you, Ainsley."

  Ainsley smiled. "I'll return, if you like, and do your hair. You mentioned once that you were not good at fixing it." Kolyn nodded. "Yes, I did. If it's not an inconvenience, that too would be nice."

  "I'll be back soon. If you need anything, just ask one of the servants to bring it to you. You are part of the family now, Kolyn. Don't hesitate to ask should you need something."

  "Thank you," Kolyn mumbled, her mind darting from one disheartening thought to another. The door closed, and she continued her pacing until another knock interrupted her. She assumed it was the servants to set up her bath. "Enter." As they did so, she stared out the window, not really aware of who entered and left. Kolyn turned her attention to the girl only when she touched her on the shoulder.

  "'Tis ready, my lady." Again she muttered a weak thank you. "Would you like me t' stay and help you?"

  "No, I can manage," Kolyn could not stop the deep sigh. "I'm sure you have plenty of other matters needing your attention more than I do." The girl's eyes widened. "Oh, no, my lady. It would be my pleasure t' help." She took Kolyn's hand and guided her to the bath. "I could wash your hair. 'Tis so thick an' pretty."

  The servant girl couldn't be much younger than she, and Kolyn liked her congenial manner. So she allowed the girl to assist her, and when Kolyn stepped into the steaming tub, it felt wonderful. For a short time, Kolyn was able to empty her mind and enjoy the simple diversion.

  "What's your name?" The girl smiled shyly, "'Tis Mary."

  Mary began to lather Kolyn's hair, the gentle massage relaxing Kolyn so totally, she drifted off to sleep for a moment. Mary wrapped her hair in a soft towel, and Kolyn couldn't suppress a wide yawn as she settled back again in the copper tub. Her eyes closed, and she fell asleep for the second time. "Shall I wash my lady's back?"

  Kolyn's eyes flew open, and she found herself staring into Ian's dark, gold eyes. "Where's Mary?"

  "I sent her away." He smiled, kneeling beside the tub. "I told her I would assist you with your bath." It amused Ian that Kolyn blushed. He lifted a brow. "Do not look so mortified, Kolyn. After all, I am your husband." Ian picked up the heather scented soap and smelled it. His smile widened. "Shall I wash your back?"

  "No." Kolyn stiffened, her voice as tense as her back. He turned his smile into a frown. "Even if I promise to behave?" "No." Ian's sigh was long and sad. It did not change her mood. "You do know how to take the fun out of being married, lass." Instead of making Kolyn angry, his words hurt her deeply." "'Tis not what I imagined it should be either."

  "When you were a little girl, what did you dream of?" Kolyn closed her eyes to keep the tears back, not wanting Ian to se
e her cry. "It was so long ago, I can't remember." Ian's finger brushed her cheek, opening her eyes to his. "Was not so long ago, lass. You've barely passed twenty." She pushed his hand away. "I feel much older, and I no longer dream childish dreams. My nights are haunted with nightmares that I cannot chase away. This marriage holds no future for me."

  Ian said nothing. He stood and left the room. A few minutes later, Ainsley returned and helped her dress as promised

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Kolyn had never seen so many people gathered together at one time. People came in from all over. It amazed her that the word could have spread so fast. Everyone came to meet Kolyn and wish the Lord of Stonehaven the best. She felt as if she were deceiving them all, not just Ian and Ainsley. "Ian has gained the respect of his people," Kolyn said quietly to Ainsley in a short spell with no interruptions. "I admire that. My people mostly feared my father. He was known for his temper and harshness."

  "Each man deals with people in his own way. Your father's way was just different from Ian's. My own father was much like yours, and until I met Ian's father, I had never known a truly gentle man. Seems almost unfitting for a Scotsman. My son, luckily, is a good combination of both. He has a temper." Ainsley looked to Kolyn as she finished. "But you know that, don't you? When he was younger and less likely to listen to advice, he acted rashly."

  "You did not want him to marry Blair, did you?" A pained look crossed Ainsley's pretty features, then disappeared with obvious control. "No. I knew she would hurt Ian. But . . . he would not listen to reason where she was concerned." Kolyn suddenly found herself wanting to ask a question she knew she shouldn't, but could not keep from it. "You would do just about anything to keep Ian happy, wouldn't you, Ainsley?"

  She looked surprised but answered honestly. "Aye, I would. 'Tis the way of mothers. This is something you will learn about soon." No it was something Kolyn knew about now. "How far would you go for your son?" "I don't know if I understand what you mean." "How far would you go to protect Ian? Would you kill to keep him from harm?"

  The questions seemed stark, absolute, when spoken out loud. Kolyn held her breath, wanting, no, needing to know what Ainsley would do for her child.

  "Yes, if need be, I'd kill to protect him."

  Kolyn turned away from Ainsley, unable to look her in the eye any longer. Her breathing became strained, she couldn't get enough air into her lungs. Guilt assaulted hershe couldn't kill Ian to protect her son. What kind of mother was she? "If you should ever look back on this time and wonder about what I have done and why, remember that I loved with the same determination and strength as you do Ian. Then, perhaps, you will not hate me so much."

  Ainsley pulled Kolyn's face back to hers, her eyes filled with concern. "I should never hate you. Tell me what it is that keeps you so far from us, Kolyn. You frighten me." "I cannot," Kolyn whispered. Then she pulled away and lost herself in the crowded room. The hours dragged by as she waited for the night to pass, anxious for the next day, Saturday, to arrive. She needed air, and headed for the door.

  The cool night brought immediate relief to her heated skin, and she breathed in great gulps of its freshness. She wanted to disappear into the dark shadows that lined the forest's edge just beyond, but thought better of it. Kolyn stayed close to the inn and sought solace in being alone, away from the clamor of the people inside.

  Still, a feeling disturbed her, stealing away the peacefulness she sought. Kolyn looked out into the darkness, studying the shadows intently. Dwight stood among the trees.

  Kolyn whirled about to go inside, and ran straight into Geoffrey. ''I didn't mean to startle you." "Y . . . You didn't." She glanced back to see Dwight was gone. "I was just going back inside." "If you wish to stay, I'll not disturb you." "That's all right, Geoff." She tried to still the fear that threatened to engulf her. "I don't need you to watch over me. I'll not wander off."

  "I don't mind keepin' you company, my lady." This made Kolyn angry, rescuing her from the fear. "I'm not a child and I don't want your company." Her anger embarrassed Geoffrey and he looked away. "I'm sorry, Geoff. I know you are only doing as you are told. 'Tis Ian I should be angry with, not you." "Ian's only concerned for you and the child. I think it would kill him if this child . . ."

  He didn't finish, but Kolyn understood. "He should have thought of the consequences before he sent Blair away. He knew she couldn't survive, not with a babe on the way." Geoffrey looked confused. "Ian didn't know Blair was with child. He would never have banished her if he had." "You lie," she accused him bluntly. Blair had told her Ian knew. Even Emmett had known about the baby.

  "I have no reason to lie to you, Kolyn. Ian did not learn that Blair was going to have his baby until he heard of her death and that a child had died with her. He has lived with a guilt all these years he does not deserve. I had hoped that the child you carry would ease the grief that still burdens him." "How can that be?" Kolyn whispered, the walls of her world crowding in on her. She couldn't breathe.

  Geoffrey's strong arms supported her, or she would have fallen to the ground. He was speaking to her. She saw his lips moving, but she could not hear the words. A great roaring filled her head, and she feared she would be sick.

  Kolyn bolted from Geoffrey and returned to the celebration. It all mocked her the laughter, the smiles. Everyone . . . everything. Each face became grotesque to her, and she fought to get past them. She needed to get away.

  Ian saw Kolyn leave again, and knew something was wrong. She was pale, her face drawn. He spotted Geoffrey as he entered the inn, and moved through the throng of people to find out the problem. "What's wrong, Geoff?"

  "I don't know. She looked ill." "Aye," Ian said, already heading for the door. Once he was outside, it took a moment to locate Kolyn. She was going inside the stables. "Is she going home?"

  "She wouldn't be so foolish," Geoffrey exclaimed. "I think she would." Kolyn had a horse pulled from the stall before Ian stopped her. "Do you never listen, woman?" Her green eyes looked at him so filled with pain it took the harsh words he had been about to say from his mouth. She pushed past him, her grip still on the mare's reins.

  "Kolyn . . ." She ignored him, but the wild look in her eyes told him something was terribly wrong. "I'll take you home."

  "Please . . ." she cried out, her tone as strange as her look. "Don't interfere, Ian. You cannot help me. Don't you see that?" He grabbed the reins from her. "I cannot let you go out alone. Just let me take you home."

  "Send me away, Ian." Ian did not understand what was wrong. "We'll go home and talk this out. Everything will be all right. I promise you." "How can you promise such a thing?" She began to laugh. "You don't even know what is going on." Ian stilled, then took her by the shoulders. "What is going on, Kolyn? I want to understand."

  "I don't want to hurt you," she mumbled, touching his face tenderly. Then her look became confused, doubtful. "But I must." Why must you?" he questioned, still baffled by her bizarre manner. "Why must you hurt me? Do you hate me so much?" No, I've never hated you. I love you." Her confession was as strange as her actions, taking Ian by surprise.

  "I love you, Ian. But I love another more. One of you must die, and I could not bear to lose him. He has been a part of me too long. My heart would break, and I could not live. He is just an innocent in all this ugliness."

  Ian tried to be patient. "You are not making any sense. Let's go home. Then we will talk." Kolyn began to sob, and Ian drew her into his arms, holding her close, uncertain how to comfort her.

  "No," she cried, and pulled away. She grabbed at his knife and jerked it from its sheath. Kolyn lunged, the blade slashing in a frenzy, much like her manner, her mood. The dagger bit into his arm, drawing blood, but Ian caught her wrist before she could make another swing. He pried it from her hand, and it dropped to the ground. Tears streaked her face, and she struggled to free herself. Ian lifted her and carried her to his horse. Geoffrey stood, waiting, the horse saddled and ready.

  Kolyn suddenly stilled.
"She's fainted," Ian offered, seeing the unasked question in Geoffrey's eyes. "Tell

  Mother I've taken Kolyn home." Ian mounted and rode off. Ian watched Kolyn as she slept, her face as white as the sheets she lay upon. He heard his mother's soft knock and went to the door. "How is she?" "She's still sleeping." Ian ran his hand through his hair, worry scorching his mind, her odd behavior still clear in his memory. "She's not awakened since she collapsed at the inn."

  His mother took his hand into hers, tears in her eyes. "She carries a great trouble that we cannot imagine." Her eyes fell to the blood on his arm. "'Tis nothing," Ian assured her. "She was saying things I can't understand. What am I to do?" "When she awakens, we will speak with her. She must trust us with whatever it is that has her so frightened."

  "Yes, when she awakens." Ian closed the door and returned to his chair, to his vigil. He would be there when she woke up. Kolyn heard his heavy breathing even before she was fully awake. She lifted her swollen lids and peered in the direction of the sound. His head had dropped down onto his chest as he slept in the chair he had pulled up next to her bed. The sun's light hurt her eyes, and she realized how late it was.