Paper Roses

by Collier, Celia

  "Nor would I let you." Alastair grasped her hand in his and tried to urge her into her chair.

  "Do not lie about this, Ciara. The silver vanished the night before you left for France."

  "Silence!"

  The command came from Ninian. The man stood and glared at his brother. "Mother hid the items to keep you from selling them. 'Twas her intent all along to pass them on to Ciara, since she is the only daughter."

  "As laird -- "

  "Close your mouth now or I swear to do it for you, brother."

  Alastair glanced from one man to the other. Perhaps he should have seated Eneas beside Ninian. 'Twas clear the elder Mackintosh was barely tolerated by members of his own family.

  "Mother and I had no luxuries while we were in France. I have not seen the silver since the day I left Glengarry." Ciara seated herself and stared at the table. "Methinks your disagreements with her prior to our departure would place enough guilt in your heart to cease causing trouble now that she is gone."

  "I want that silver."

  Ciara turned heated blue eyes his way. "As I said, all I inherited was a worn leather trunk. If you misplaced a heirloom, 'tis on your head, not mine."

  Tense silence descended over the table. Ninian returned to his seat and Alastair surveyed the room.

  Heirloom silver and a missive. Something was out of place here, yet he could not identify the source.

  He turned his gaze down to the table. Once he was alone with Ninian, he hoped to gain some much-needed answers.

  * * *

  "I refuse to be sequestered in my chamber again, husband."

  Ciara stood in the midst of the small room Alastair used as an office. Light streamed through the windows and reflected off his sword positioned above the hearth.

  Alastair, seated at his desk, turned to her and frowned. "I have my reasons for making a request of you."

  "'Twas not a request, but a command." Her hands rested on her hips and she met her husband's irritated glare with one of her own. "This matter concerns me as well."

  A vein twitched in Alastair's neck. "Woman, you test my patience."

  She nodded, satisfied she irritated him. "Splendid. We are even then, for you have tested mine repeatedly the last few days."

  "Ciara, I am warning you."

  Her chin lifted a smidgen. His tone did not frighten her. "I am not leaving."

  He cursed and shook his head. "I should thrash you for defying me."

  "Yet you would not lay a harmful hand on the mother of your heir." His gaze flashed to hers and Ciara almost smiled. "You are the one who made the declaration, not I."

  Alastair scowled. "Ciara, what I have to discuss with your brother may not be appropriate for your ears."

  "I am not leaving, MacDonell." She crossed her arms over her belly and frowned. "You asked me to help learn the truth about what led to the massacre in the glen. This mysterious missive could be related to that most grievous event."

  Voices from the passage beyond halted any response he may have offered. With confidence, Ciara moved to the couch and seated herself. 'Twas unfair of her to use his own words to gain her wish, but he left her no choice.

  Stubborn Scot.

  "Nay, brother, I will do this alone." Ninian paused just beyond the doorway, his face set in anger.

  "I am laird of our clan, not you, and I am not finished with Ciara." Eneas grimaced and glanced into the room. "If the bastard wants information so badly, he will gain it from me."

  "I will not." Alastair moved to the threshold, his back to Ciara. "You may be laird, but I know which man is more worthy. Torquil?" A moment passed before the giant appeared. "Escort this guest and his companions to their mounts. My conversation with Ninian will not take long."

  "My pleasure," the giant replied and laid a hand on Eneas' shoulder. "Come, laird, I will show ye the way."

  "Unhand me, you oaf!" Eneas struggled in Torquil's grasp.

  The giant actually smiled. "It gives me enjoyment tae force ye tae my laird's wishes." He lifted Eneas by the scruff of the neck and propelled him out of Ciara's view.

  Alastair stepped aside, one large hand poised on the door. "Enter."

  Ninian strode into the room. His step faltered when he noticed Ciara. "You should not be here, sister."

  "I tried to tell her the same, yet she refuses to listen." Alastair closed the door and sighed. "My wife can be quite stubborn at times."

  Ninian smiled.

  Ciara frowned at him and lifted her gaze toward the ceiling. She had a good mind to smack them both.

  "This missive that relayed Valerie's death," Alastair said, drawing Ciara's gaze. "Did you see the words yourself?"

  Ninian approached the hearth and shook his head. "Nay. I had no reason to examine the paper. The content was simple."

  Alastair frowned and seated himself beside his wife. The warmth of his hand covered hers. "Did you perchance see the messenger?"

  Ciara slipped from his grasp. Just because she allowed him into her room last night, and awoke this morn cradled in his arms, did not mean all was well between them.

  A grimace creased Ninian's brow. He rubbed his jaw. "I was present when he arrived, though I must admit I paid little attention to him."

  "Do you remember anything at all about him? The color of his cloak, a facial expression, his voice? Anything that seemed amiss?"

  Ninian lowered his hand and narrowed his gaze. "Well, now that you mention it, there was something that caught my eye, though I thought little of it at the time."

  Despite her courage, Ciara trembled. Was there a traitor among her husband's men? Again Alastair's hand covered hers. When she tried to pull away, he gave her a light squeeze. He looked not at her, but at her brother.

  "What did you find odd?"

  A sigh escaped her brother's lips. "'Twas his plaid." He moved to stand before Alastair. "It had more red in it than the one you wear."

  Dread coiled around Ciara's heart. Different branches of the same clans wore independent plaids. Some clans even had alternate patterns for various events, including hunting.

  "My uncle rules a rowdy branch of this clan." Alastair scowled and tightened his hold on Ciara. "The plaid he chose is much as you described."

  "That does not explain how he knew of Valerie's death, or what his motive would be for dispatching such a message." Ciara studied her husband's face. The lines that creased his brow worried her.

  "His incentive was to stir trouble, wife." He sighed and removed his hand from hers. "John has longed for possession of my lands since the day my sire died."

  Alastair climbed to his feet and moved to stare out the windows. Ciara met her brother's concerned gaze and shrugged.

  Ninian cleared his throat. "I give you my word not to make mention of this to Eneas. He would find a way to cause trouble for you and my sister."

  "I thank you," Alastair said, his voice low. "I do have another matter to discuss as well." He bowed his head a moment, then turned to face Ninian. "What do you know of your sire in the days before his death?"

  Darkness clouded Ninian's eyes. "'Tis a topic I would prefer not to speak with you about, especially in the presence of my sister."

  "Ninian," Ciara said, and rose to her feet. "I know this clan was the one who brought down father and his men."

  Intense emotions crossed her brother's face. He exchanged glances with Alastair. "At least he had the wisdom to tell you the truth."

  A lump lodged in Ciara's throat. She preferred not to think of how she came to learn the facts or the torment that followed. "Brother, this clan believes that father -- that he abducted the mistress of my husband's sire and subjected her to deplorable acts."

  "Deplorable acts?" He turned a questioning glance on Alastair. "Our sire adored our mother, MacDonell. He strayed not once from his vows."

  Alastair's jaw tensed. "Are you certain?"

  "Husband --"

  "Aye, I am certain," Ninian interrupted, not allowing her to finish. "I resent what you
imply about a man filled with devotion and impeccable virtue."

  "All I do is attempt to learn the truth." Briefly, Alastair explained what he knew of the day in question.

  Ciara felt a bit queasy hearing the accounts of what led to Rachel's death. Perhaps Alastair had been right and she should have avoided hearing this discussion.

  Ninian scowled and turned toward the hearth. From his stance, Ciara knew he was annoyed.

  "These events sound more like something MacLean would do, not my sire." He glanced toward Alastair. "'Tis why I do not object to Ciara's union with you. An enemy you may be, but no promiscuous acts haunt your name."

  "'Tis my thoughts as well, where MacLean is concerned." Alastair sighed and shook his head. "I cannot understand this. If your sire was not involved, why did Rachel name him her tormenter?"

  So many questions and so few answers. Ciara lowered herself to the couch once more and tried to make sense from disorder.

  "Did this Rachel have kin?" Ninian's question drew Ciara's gaze.

  Alastair nodded. "Aye, her sire passed long ago, but her mother remains. She took a croft deep in the forest and keeps to herself since Rachel died."

  Ninian shook his head. "I suggest you speak to her, and any others who were witness to either the abduction or the return. Through them, I believe you can gain the answers you seek."

  "Brother?" Ciara whispered, drawing his gaze to her. "Will you help?"

  His adoration for her eased the worry from his face. He knelt before her and gathered her hands in his. "I fail to see how I could assist in this matter, Ciara."

  "Ask questions. Use that clever brain of yours to probe MacLean." She squeezed his hands and dared a glance at her husband. "We will learn what we can as well. Both Alastair and I long to glean the truth and clear father's name."

  Ninian lowered his gaze and rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles. "I will do what I can."

  "Your help is appreciated." Alastair sighed. "Do you have knowledge of this silver Eneas is howling about?"

  Ninian shook his head and met his sister's gaze. "It vanished. My personal theory is that one of the vermin my brother has befriended stole the wares. Eneas, with his pride, would not admit such a mistake in his judgment."

  Ciara squeezed her brother's hand. "His mistakes as laird have been many."

  Memories of the heated arguments between her eldest brother and her mother returned. The quarrels were over the silver. Eneas longed to possess the heirlooms for the wealth he would gain, and the status he felt he deserved among his peers.

  "I bid you a safe journey home."

  The sound of her husband's voice drew her from her thoughts. Melancholy tugged at Ciara's heart. Three years had passed since she saw her brother. Now, all too soon, their time was over. "Return in the spring for a visit, yet leave MacLean behind."

  "And Eneas," Alastair added.

  A smile tugged at Ninian's mouth. "Aye, my brother can be trying on his best day." He leaned over, kissed Ciara on the cheek, then climbed to his feet. "Take care, sister, and send word when your bairn arrives."

  Ciara's belly licked her spine. She could not confirm or deny Alastair's boast, so she decided to let the matter rest. "I will."

  Ninian turned to Alastair. "I know our clans have known differences in the past. Yet, after meeting you, I hope through your union with Ciara, peace will be known."

  "I thank you for your honesty and share your hope." Alastair accompanied him to the door. "If you discover anything, no matter how insignificant it may seem, I would appreciate being informed."

  "I make the same request of you." Ninian paused and gifted Ciara with a final glance. "Take good care of my sister, and you and I will have no quarrel."

  "'Twill be my pleasure."

  The door closed and Ciara was alone with her husband. Across the room, her gaze met his. The emotions in his eyes mirrored the ones that tumbled through her belly.

  "Thank you for trusting Ninian," she said and lowered her gaze to her lap. "Of all my brothers, he is my favorite."

  Alastair seated himself beside her. "Do the others take after Eneas in temperament?"

  His fingers brushed her cheek. Ciara shivered. How could she tell him of the cruel jests that haunted her childhood? The taunts and mockery that magnified her inferiority and weaknesses?

  "Ciara? Did I say something to offend you?"

  She swallowed and shook her head. "Nay, husband. None of my brothers favored me much, save for Ninian."

  "He seems an honorable man."

  She nodded. "He is. To the best of my knowledge, he has never spoken a dishonest word in his life."

  Alastair sighed and pressed his lips against her ear. "If I did not have that impression, I would not have confided in him." He stroked her cheek. "I must now assist Torquil in the removal of our guests." He placed a gentle kiss upon her cheek, then climbed to his feet. "Go gain a nap, wife. You look weary."

  Ciara said nothing as he left the room. She was tired. Sleep had eluded her since the night she learned of Alastair's involvement with the death of her sire.

  While she believed him, she wondered if remaining with him betrayed her sire's memory. No doubt Eneas saw her marriage as such. With ease, he could convince the others as well.

  Hurt rose in her breast. She forced it aside and, with a sigh, climbed to her feet and mounted the stairs.

  She had forsaken no one, least of all her father. If she were to be true to herself, Alastair was honorable as well. 'Twas his suggestion that they delve into the circumstances that led to the deaths in the glen.

  She entered her chamber, slipped off her shoes and lay against the mattress. Ciara was now wed to Alastair, no matter what information they discovered. Be it good or bad, she would always be his wife.

  The mattress shifted beneath her as she rolled to her side. Ciara nestled into the downy softness and closed her eyes.

  She prayed that through the mystery surrounding her sire, they found proof of his innocence. While it would not return her father to the world of the living, it would make the acceptance of her into this clan more tolerable. Perhaps, it would help her to grant forgiveness to her husband as well.

  Slowly, her eyes drifted open. At that moment she realized what lay in her heart.

  Ciara loved her husband.

  In Alastair, she found a champion greater than Ninian and a heart more devoted to her than her mother or father had been.

  Given half a chance, she felt true happiness could be hers, a joy she never knew before. Somehow, through the battles they shared, the cracks in her soul had mended.

  If Alastair behaved himself and ceased his attempts at bossing her about, maybe, just maybe, she would tell him her true feelings.

  Ciara snuggled against the pillows and smiled. Finally, she had an advantage over her husband, knew something he did not.

  She planned to enjoy herself.

  Chapter Nineteen

  "Are you sure you are up to this, Ciara?" Alastair asked as he maneuvered his horse across the snow-covered mountain. "Johann welcomes few into her croft. She may toss stones at you."

  Behind him, Ciara's arms circled his waist. Her breath brushed his neck. Lord, how he missed her. Since her brothers' departure, they once again resumed separate quarters.

  "You seem a large enough shield, MacDonell. I dare say any stones tossed my way will strike you first."

  Amusement touched his lips. Her defenses toward him were weakening. Her teasing words were proof of that.

  "'Tis a comfort to know I am of some use to you, woman."

  "I find it best not to pay tribute to your qualities, MacDonell." Her arms tightened around him. "Such praise tends to swell your head."

  Wicked thoughts consumed his brain. "You should choose your words with care, wife. Some have double meanings."

  Her exasperated sigh brushed his ear. "You are incorrigible, husband."

  He chuckled and placed a gloved hand over hers to keep her from withdrawing her arms. "You made me
that way, my enchanting witch."

  "I dare say you were hopeless long before making my acquaintance." She squirmed against his back and rested her chin on his shoulder. "It seems we have ridden for hours now. How far is this croft?"

  "The snow hampers our progress. We are almost there."

  Overhead, snow-laden boughs swayed in the breeze. Through the desolate branches, a sky sprinkled with gray clouds peeked at them. Ciara shivered and snuggled into him.

  Alastair frowned. Despite the pleasure of her company, he knew Ciara should have remained behind. Although the weather was pleasant when they departed, in the Highlands, that could change with the beat of a heart.

  A shiver kissed his spine. Valerie had been out in poor weather and taken ill. The only difference is, Valerie's bane was rain, Ciara's was snow.

  "Are you warm enough, wife?" He would never forgive himself if Ciara took ill.

  "Aye, husband." She rested her cheek on his shoulder and sighed. "I will be glad to get off the back of this horse, though."

  Her words removed some of the doubt from his soul. Still, he would hold her before him on the ride home, her protests be damned. The warmth of his cloak, combined with hers, should keep her safe from illness.

  The journey to Johann's croft, a trek that usually took an hour in spring, had now stretched into nearly three. The snow was deeper on this part of the mountain. He should have trusted his instincts and made Ciara bide his command.

  A smile tugged at his heart. Ciara disliked commands, which made giving them all the more pleasurable. Naught could compare to the fire in her eyes or the blush of her cheeks when her dander was riled.

  He wouldn't trade it, or her, for all the wealth in the Highlands.

  A clearing came into view. Nestled in the midst, a thatched croft beckoned them. Smoke curled from a stone chimney and carried with it the scent of roasted pheasant.

  'Twas a simple dwelling for a simple life. The woman who occupied this residence found comfort in solace. Visitors were rarely welcomed.

  Alastair tugged on his reins before the crude door of the abode. The shutters were drawn and, aside from the smoke, the place looked abandoned.