The Wolf of Kisimul Castle (Highland Isles)

by McCollum, Heather

  “Then let us go to Barra,” Angus said, pulling Alec’s thoughts. “I’ve wanted to show Bessy your beaches. The land on Barra is exceedingly fertile. ’Twould be a good place to have a home. She may wish to stay even if ye don’t wed her.”

  Alec narrowed his eyes. “Ye would abandon your sister here without family or husband?”

  Angus stuck his finger in his ear, scratching at it. “That sounds quite ignoble, MacNeil. I was thinking she hasn’t been happy at home and might wish to stay, maybe meet another MacNeil.” He gestured toward Kenneth, who worked with the two male dogs Alec hoped to give Millie. “Like your cousin there. Young, handsome, strong enough to handle a wife.” He laughed as if the thought of anyone needing strength to handle his obedient sister was absurd.

  “Bessy is welcome to stay on Barra if she wishes it, but I cannot keep an eye on her for ye. And as the raid last fall shows, it is not safe for a woman alone, even on a distant island in the sea.”

  Angus flapped his hand as if shooing a fly. “Bessy would be fine, but I’d have her see the isle first.”

  The man just wanted to be rid of his sister. Damnation. “I plan to take Mairi and the children for a trip on the far side of Barra today. Bessy can come if she likes.”

  Angus clapped his hands together, making the dogs spin toward him, barking, tails between their legs. “Excellent, I will tell Bessy to be ready for me to take her.” He strode off while a tightness curled in the muscles of Alec’s gut. He’d invited Bessy, not Angus, but it would be strategically foolish to alienate the Camerons just because their chief was a crass, wheedling annoyance.

  He strode over to Kenneth, who was using gentle words to remind the new dogs that they were safe. Kenneth hid a yawn behind a fist. “Does the man ever stay quiet?” he asked.

  Alec could hear Angus Cameron yelling for Bessy inside the hall. “If he’s silent, he’s either dead or up to something.”

  Chapter Ten

  Shades of pink, orange, yellow, even purple. The flowers bobbed atop tall green stems, bowing and swaying like waves in the sea breeze. Shimmery dragonflies hovered over a sea of color, zipping about in the sun. “Aren’t they lovely,” Cinnia said as she skipped through the field toward the white sand. The wide swath of dancing flowers grew right up to the beach, marking the border between the open ocean and Barra Isle.

  “They are,” Mairi said, only too aware that Alec could hear her admission. “One locked up on Kisimul would never know Barra could be so beautiful in the sun.”

  “A rare beauty. Even blown about by fury,” Alec said, and she looked toward him. But instead of his gaze taking in the flowers or blue sea, he stared at Mairi as if talking about her.

  She swallowed against the little thrill his words caused and looked away, perturbed at her response. He was her captor, not some handsome suitor with dark promises in his gaze. Mo chreach, he was muddling her resolve to hate him.

  “MacNeil,” Angus called from down the slope. He stood with George Macrae and held soil in his hand, letting the wind take it. “Ye could grow right up to the beaches, though the flowers would need to go.” Even in the wind he sounded too loud, blasting through the peace of the small, breaking waves.

  Alec walked with Mairi down the slope. She watched Weylyn throw a rock into the sea and run back from froth brought in on waves. Cinnia sat in a clump of pink flowers, picking low on their stems as she talked up to Bessy. Angus’s sister wrapped herself in a wool shawl as if cold, but she smiled, probably happy that the wind muted her brother’s booming diatribe.

  “I think that’s the first smile I’ve seen on her,” Mairi said. “And she’s not even a prisoner.”

  Alec ignored her stab. “It seems he wants to be rid of her.”

  Mairi looked up at him. “Leave her on Barra?”

  “Aye.”

  “Humph… I like him even less. Didn’t know that was possible.”

  Alec chuckled. “His men seem loyal enough, and as far as I’ve heard, the Cameron clan eats well and keeps their borders, therefore he must be a good chief. He’s apparently made an alliance with the Macraes of Ardnamurchan. It will take a strong woman to curb Angus into any type of reflective man.”

  She looked at Alec. “Cinnia said ye were the only lad to best him in battle as a child, that he respects your strength.”

  “Strength is the only thing that men like Angus Cameron respect.”

  They walked side by side through the flowers, her steps weaving in between colorful clumps. “And what does the Wolf of Kisimul respect?” she asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  He didn’t answer right away, just looked out where Weylyn dodged more waves. “Courage,” he said, glancing toward her. “And…”

  “Obedience?”

  “I was going to say loyalty, but aye, in a hound and in my men, I depend on their obedience. But I think loyalty is better as it requires the animal or man to choose to obey. Choose to stay.”

  “They have freedom to decide,” she said softly. “Unlike a prisoner.”

  He didn’t respond, and she exhaled long. She could easily ruin this outing with sulking and sarcasm, but that would ruin it for her, too. “Ye must have hoped that your wife’s people would have remained at Kisimul after she died,” Mairi said.

  He inhaled and released it slowly. “Everyone on Kisimul leaves.”

  “Ye haven’t.”

  He turned to meet her gaze. “Nay, I have not. The chiefdom and the castle have my loyalty.”

  There was more behind his words, a loneliness. Pain. So, the great Wolf of Kisimul suffered. Mairi turned back to the sea. “Ye were good to give them the freedom to choose.”

  The heels of Mairi’s boots sunk into the sand as they walked closer to the water’s foamy edge. “I would have thought they would stay for the children.”

  “Not much courage in them.” Alec bent, standing to skip a stone past the low waves breaking on the shoreline.

  “They were afraid of ye?” she asked.

  His lips hitched up into a wry grin. “They said it was the curse that chased them home. No one wanted to risk being the lady of Kisimul and dying early.”

  “Ah, but ye would risk the widow of your enemy,” Mairi said, turning back to the surf.

  Alec caught her wrist, halting her. “I don’t believe in curses,” he said. “Else I’d have taken Cinnia away.” He dropped her arm, but they continued to look at each other. “Ye don’t seem the type to believe in them, either.”

  Mairi twisted her mouth into a sardonic smile. “I am not.” She caught the hair that slapped against her forehead to tuck it behind her ears. “And not all the women die. Your mother is still alive,” Mairi said, glancing where Cinnia set a wreath on top of her curls.

  “After losing four newborn daughters, she demanded to birth me in the village. When I lived, she was convinced that Kisimul was the source of the evil and became overly cautious while I grew. Although she cloistered me within the walls of Kisimul, she spent as much time as she could off our little island and left as soon as possible.”

  Mairi swallowed her comment about a mother leaving her son defenseless. “And your father’s mother died at Kisimul?” Mairi asked.

  “Aye, and probably a few before her, too, but life is hard. I don’t think it has to do with some evil surfacing through the freshwater well to stalk Kisimul.”

  Mairi looked at Alec’s strong profile as he stared out at the blue sea, his short hair tousled in the wind. His nose was a perfect slope down to lips that she knew were warm and sinfully delicious. “And ye are certain ye aren’t worried about Cinnia growing older, so ye brought a sacrificial woman to be the lady of Kisimul?” Mairi asked. She pursed her lips tight and surveyed the varying shades of blue and green in the sunlit sea.

  “I do not want to wed ye to be the sacrificial lady of Kisimul,” he said.

  She turned to meet his intense gaze. Lashes framed his gray-blue eyes, a furrow between them, showing his loss of humor. She breath
ed in deeply. “Ye just want to wed me to punish a dead man and his clan.” Before he could deny it or justify his actions, she turned, her heel digging a divot in the sand as she strode down the beach toward Cinnia, who held a wreath of flowers out to her.

  “It’s lovely,” Mairi said, taking the ring of purple and pink flowers to set on her head.

  Cinnia rocked up on her toes. “The colors are perfect in your golden hair. Ye look like one of the fairy folk.” She picked up two strands of Mairi’s loose hair, holding them out to the sides. Her happiness transferred to Mairi, momentarily pushing away the disappointing fact that she wasn’t truly free to enjoy the day, not when an invisible tether chained her to a rocky fortress surrounded by sea.

  Bessy walked over, wearing a similar crown of yellow and pink flowers. “It seems we are all crowned fairy princesses,” she said with an authentic smile. The wind and sun had put some color back into the woman’s cheeks.

  “Indeed,” Mairi said.

  “I will make one for Da to take to Millie,” Cinnia said and fled toward the bank of flowers, her bare feet leaving deep dashes in the drier sand.

  “I think Cinnia has the best idea,” Mairi said, leaning down to unlace the borrowed leather boots. They were a bit tight, and shucking them felt wonderful. With a quick pull of the laces on her garters, Mairi loosened her stockings, letting them fall down her legs. She plucked them from her toes and set her feet free on the moderately warm sand.

  “Goodness,” Bessy said with a small giggle. “Aren’t ye cold?”

  “’Tis a warm day. Ye are from inland where the sea breeze doesn’t reach ye. I’ve grown up in the rush of wind,” Mairi said and wiggled her toes down in the sand.

  Weylyn waved Mairi over, and she turned toward him. Bessy touched her arm. “Mairi?”

  “I think Weylyn wants to show me something.”

  “It’s just,” Bessy said, pausing. “Do ye think if I stay on Barra, that I could stay on Kisimul? Ye don’t have a cook, and I rather liked helping our cook in the kitchens. The kitchens tend to always be warm with the fires going. I could mind the children, too, and any of your bairns after ye wed the wolf…I mean The MacNeil,” she said, her words coming fast like a flustered whirlwind of dandelion seeds.

  Mairi’s mouth opened as she fought the urge to make promises to help the woman who’d rather stay on a cursed island than return with her brother or live alone in a strange village. “I will speak with Alec about it,” she said and squeezed Bessy’s cold hand. Even if Mairi couldn’t do much to help herself, she could argue on behalf of Bessy. She leaned closer to her, although no one was near. “We lasses need to stick together.”

  Bessy smiled broadly, relief opening her features. “Thank ye.”

  “Let’s go see what Weylyn has found,” Mairi said.

  “Ye go. I don’t want to get wet.”

  Mairi left Bessy standing in the dry sand and stepped lightly down the slope to the water’s undulating edge. “Did ye find something?”

  Weylyn held up a triangular piece of glass. “Look, its purple, the rarest kind of sea glass,” he said, setting it in her palm. “The glass starts off as white, but the sea washing it makes it turn purple.” He bent over her hand, pointing to the indented top. “If ye hold it this way, it looks like a heart.”

  Mairi ran her finger along the smooth humps at the top, following it down to the point. “It does look like a heart. Hmmm… Now whose heart could it be?”

  He screwed up his face in a funny frown. “If I were Kenneth, I’d likely say that it was mine, and I’m giving it to ye.”

  Mairi laughed. “Is Kenneth giving ye lessons on wooing the lasses?”

  Weylyn snorted in disgust. “Aye. Says it will come in handy later on.”

  She laughed harder. Cinnia ran over to look, and a larger wave washed in, making Mairi lift her skirts and dash upland in time to keep her hem dry. “Cinnia, watch your skirts,” she called, but the girl already stood in the surf, her skirts weighed down by seawater. “Too late,” Mairi called and laughed again.

  She looked around, feeling a heavy gaze, and saw Alec watching her. Warmth spread into her cheeks, and she turned to walk toward the children who were running back and forth with the waves, searching for more sea glass. Mairi realized she still held the glass heart.

  “What did he find?” Alec walked up behind her, making her inhale stutter.

  Traitorous breath, she chided herself and turned with her hand outstretched so he didn’t have to come close to see.

  “Sea glass, the rarest color, and it looks like a heart,” she said, all at once.

  Instead of taking it from her palm, he rested his hand under hers, bending closer to look at it. “Aye, it does look like a heart.” His gaze lifted to hers without him straightening. “And my son gave it to ye?”

  She couldn’t help but join Alec in his small smile. “I expect him to retrieve it any moment. Young men are known to be fickle.”

  Alec’s grin broadened. He straightened, his attention turning back to Cinnia and Weylyn near the edge of the water. “It is good to hear ye laugh,” he said casually, the pinch between his brows at odds with his smile.

  Mairi tipped her head to the side, touching the flower crown. “I blame it on the sun, fresh breeze, and warm sand.”

  “Barra has more of all three than the rest of Scotland,” he said, sounding almost boastful, definitely proud. She watched the waves of his hair dance in the wind, a dark lock sliding along his tanned forehead.

  “Not on Kisimul?” she said.

  His smile faded back to his normal, serious survey of the land around him. “Nay,” he agreed. “Not on Kisimul.”

  Weylyn waved again with round arm gestures. “I think he wants us to go to him,” Mairi said, her smile returning at the boy’s antics. Without waiting for Alec, she hiked up her skirts and jogged lightly over to him. He held up a shell.

  “There’s something inside,” he said. “Just watch.” He placed the pointed shell into the water. “He’ll come out.”

  Mairi turned, her back to the sea to block the lowering sun, and bent at the hips to spy the little creature. Alec squatted down over the boy’s hand. In the distance Cinnia called out, but Mairi wasn’t fast enough.

  A wave, stronger than the rest, broke, swamping them with foam and saltwater. Mairi gasped. Weylyn dropped the snail and jumped up, as did Alec, who reached out to grab Mairi as the surge caught her skirts, hitting hard against the backs of her knees. Alec held her hands, but her feet washed out from beneath her.

  “Mo chreach,” she gasped as she plunged backward into the swirl of water.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alec lifted Mairi’s hands as she sat in a foot of surf water. With the slope of the shore, the water reached up her back to the ends of her long hair. Gently, so as not to wrench her shoulders, he dragged her up, catching her against the water gushing back, as if Poseidon sought to snatch her into the ocean. “Stand up,” Alec said, unable to completely hide his grin. She looked caught between mirth and fury.

  “Ugh,” she cried. “Ye try to stand with sand beneath ye and skirts weighted with the sea.”

  “Ye kept your crown,” Cinnia called out from higher on the shore.

  Mairi finally found her feet and stood. She pulled her one fisted hand from his to hold up the sea glass. “And my heart.”

  “’Tis my heart,” Weylyn called. But with a glance from Alec, he produced a dark pout. “But ye can have it, Mairi.”

  Alec held her arm as they walked up the sand. He didn’t dare drop it, or she might flop back into the surf like a beached mermaid. Mairi stopped to bend at Weylyn’s side. “Ah, but ’tis yours to give to some lucky lass when ye grow older,” she said and placed it back in his palm. “She will be lucky to get it.”

  His eyes lit up, and he glanced at Alec. Alec gave a silent nod, and Weylyn smiled broadly, tucking it in his pocket. “Thank ye,” he said with a bob before running off.

  Bessy hurried over. “Ye’r
e drenched,” she said, offering Mairi her shawl. “Ye’ll catch your death.” Genuine concern muted her smile.

  Angus followed with George Macrae. “Ye aren’t even wed yet, and death is already trying to take her.” Angus laughed, oblivious to the pallor growing in his sister’s face.

  “No worries,” Mairi said, her voice strong. “I am hale and hearty.” But she did accept the shawl, and Alec felt her shiver as he held her arm, marching up the sandy slope.

  Ian strode over with Kenneth. “The sun is starting to go down, and the temperature will drop. Best to get Mairi back to Kisimul.”

  “Escort the Camerons back so they can prepare to depart,” Alec said. “I will see Mairi dry before bringing her across the open water.”

  “I wanted to talk with ye before departing,” Angus said. “Your lady said Bessy could stay on at Kisimul.”

  Alec felt Mairi’s fingers clench into his arm. “I haven’t had a chance to discuss it with him yet.”

  Angus waved her off. “I will wait for your return to Kisimul before we leave Barra.” Angus was using any excuse to prolong his stay.

  “Very well,” Alec said. “Ian, make sure to pick up some bread from Ruth and fish from the docks before maneuvering the ferry over.”

  “I can cook,” Bessy said, a flush coming to her cheeks as if she’d talked out of place.

  “Thank ye,” Mairi said to her. “The children need to eat after spending all day in the wind and sun.”

  “Aye,” Angus boomed. “As do the men.” He patted his round gut that hung a bit over the top of his kilt.

  Alec led Mairi through the wildflowers, passing Kenneth on the way to his horse, whom they’d brought over. “I’ll leave Sköll on Barra for the night,” he said to him. “Stay close to the Camerons and Macrae.”

  Kenneth called to the children as Alec continued to lead Mairi toward his horse. “Where are we going?” she asked, a slight chatter to her speech. The wind had turned cold with the slanting of late day shadows.

  “Somewhere warm.” He interlaced his fingers for her foot to step into. It was bare, small, and cold. Her wee toes curled against his palm. He wanted to cup the tiny foot in his hand until it warmed, but she pulled herself into the saddle. He climbed on behind her and brought Sköll around to face inland.