The Key

by Lynsay Sands

  Relaxing somewhat, Duncan glanced over his shoulder at the two men who stood silent and stern behind him. "Take the men to the clearing outside the cave my mother favored, Ian. The entrance to the passage my wife speaks of is in it. They shouldn't give ye much more o' a fight than the others, but call me if there is any trouble."

  Nodding, the men turned and exited the tent, leaving the three of them alone. Duncan was the first to speak. Sounding weary, he murmured, "So, my own blood has betrayed me."

  Allistair cast a glance toward Iliana. Apparently deciding she was too far away to use as a hostage, he gave a resigned sigh and set his tankard down, then slowly, calmly drew his sword.

  "Put yer weapon down," Duncan barked.

  "Nay. I think not," he murmured with an almost sad smile, raising the sword to confront him.

  "Ye canna win, Allie. Ye ken that. Even if your hand isn't broken. We have battled many a time and ye have never won. Put the weapon down."

  "Then what? Ye banish me? Send me far and away from me people? From the only home I have ever known? From the woman I love?" His voice cracked slightly then, and his face suffused with sudden rage. "Seonaid would have been mine." With that, he raised his sword and lunged at his cousin.

  Iliana cried out and jumped back as Allistair's sword met Duncan's in midair. Her heart thumping violently in her chest, she clenched her hands and watched helplessly as the men stood, swords locked, glaring at each other.

  "I don't want to kill ye, Allie. Yer me own blood."

  Allistair laughed slightly and shrugged. "That didn't stop me from tryin' to kill you to get what I wanted. Not the night I stabbed yer wife, nor the day I knocked ye out and locked ye all in a burnin' room."

  While Duncan absorbed that, Allistair pulled away and swung his sword again. Stunned as he was, her husband managed to fend off the blow.

  Allistair gave a breathless laugh as they stared at each other across locked swords again. "It wouldn't have stopped me from having yer wee wife either. While I love Seonaid, yer wife is a tasty bundle. I hoped to get the chance to have her ere killing her." Pulling away again, he grinned. "Mayhap I still will."

  Iliana saw the change that came over her husband then and knew that his cousin did not have long for this world. She offered up a quick prayer for his soul even as Allistair raised his sword and charged Duncan. This time, Duncan did not meet the blow; instead he stood perfectly still until the man was nearly upon him, then stepped to the side and thrust his sword straight for his heart. Allistair let out a small grunt as he was impaled, peered into his cousin's face, opened his mouth as if to say something, then dropped to his knees. He swayed there briefly, then collapsed to the ground, his sword crashing to the dirt beside him.

  Iliana turned away from the dead man and glanced at her husband. His face was a mask of anguish. Her mind turned to all the others who had loved the man; Angus, Seonaid, Aelfread. "What will you tell them?"

  "Nothing," Duncan murmured grimly. "'Twould just sadden them to learn of his perfidy. They loved him dearly. I shall merely tell them that he died in battle."

  Iliana nodded solemnly at that, then moved to step out of the tent, breathing deep the fresh air.

  As she glanced back, she saw Duncan take one last look at the face of his cousin. Then he took a blanket from the cot in the corner of the tent and covered him gently with it before stepping out to join his wife.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  "Oh, my lady! Yer safe! How did you escape?"

  Letting the keep door close behind her, Iliana smiled wearily at Ebba, as she, Gertie, Janna, and Elgin all crowded around her. "Duncan," she answered. "He and the men returned with the Innes and the king's men. Greenweld's men gave up quickly."

  "And Greenweld himself?" Gertie asked anxiously.

  Iliana grimaced at the memory of her last sight of the man. He had been lying dead in the clearing.

  She and Duncan had joined the party outside the cave just moments before a furious Greenweld led his men out into the clearing. The frustration of finding the passage firmly sealed and returning to the clearing only to discover himself surrounded had seemed to push the man over the edge. With an enraged roar, he had raised his sword and charged forth. His men had not followed. Dropping their weapons, they had stood calmly by and watched as their leader singlehandedly tried to take on three armies. He died quickly.

  "There will be no need for an annulment. Mother is a widow once again," Iliana assured the old servant solemnly. Her brows drew down on her forehead, her gaze sweeping the great hall as she suddenly realized that the one person who was most affected by her news was not present to hear it. "Where is my mother?"

  "Oh."

  "Well."

  Iliana's eyes narrowed on Ebba and Janna as the two women exchanged glances of mingled guilt and alarm.

  "What have the two of you done?"

  "Tied her up and locked her in her room," Gertie announced with amusement.

  "What?" Iliana gaped at her with patent disbelief, but the maid merely grinned and shrugged.

  "She was wantin' to surrender hersel' fer ye. And ye did tell them that, above all--no matter what occurred--they were to keep her safe."

  "Actually, ye even told me to tie her up did I need to," Janna reminded her quietly.

  "Oh, my Lord," Iliana breathed, then whirled and hurried toward the stairs.

  Iliana was breathless by the time she reached the door to the bedchamber. That was the only reason she did not screech in amazement when she opened the door to find her mother, not bound and gagged in a chair, but lying on the bed...with Angus. She was caught up against the Dunbar laird's chest, his strapping arms wrapped tightly around her as he gave her what appeared to be a most passionate kiss.

  Iliana was still standing there gaping at the entwined pair when Duncan caught up with her. Pausing at her side, he peered curiously into the room, his own mouth dropping.

  "Da!"

  "Mother!"

  The two of them cried those words at once, bringing an abrupt end to the interlude the older couple had been enjoying and drawing them guiltily to their feet.

  "'Tis not how it looks," Lady Wildwood murmured in a strained voice, her hands moving to straighten her hair and brush at her mussed gown at the same time. "I was tied up, you see, and--and..."

  "Aye, and I was passing the room," Angus continued when she peered up at him helplessly. "I thought I heard something in here and looked in to see her tied up."

  "Aye. And he very kindly untied me."

  "Aye." They both nodded, looking for all the world like a pair of children caught stealing sweets.

  Iliana and Duncan merely gaped at them blankly for a moment; then Duncan suddenly burst out in peals of laughter. When everyone else in the room merely peered at him uncertainly, he shook his head. "Now who be the randy bastard?"

  Lady Wildwood blushed and Angus flushed purple as he drew himself up to snap back at his son, but it was Iliana who reprimanded him. "Duncan! How could you even think such a thing? My mother is not some--some common camp follower. If they say 'twas innocent, then 'twas."

  "Oh, aye," Duncan agreed, amusement still tugging at his lips as he murmured, "'Twas plain to see me father was busy untying yer dear mother when we entered. 'Tis just a shame he didn't try usin' his hands to accomplish the task rather than his tongue. It may have made the deed easier." He then let loose a loud guffaw at his own wit, oblivious of Iliana's dismay.

  "Enough!" Angus roared. "Yer not so big I cannot still whup ye, lad. And do you not shut yer mouth, I'm like to prove it."

  There was a brief silence and they all stood uncomfortably around, no one seeming to want to leave. Then Iliana stepped forward, her gaze focusing on her mother. "Your gown is fair wrinkled. No doubt you would like to change ere the sup," she suggested stiffly.

  Lady Wildwood glanced down at herself and nodded with a sigh. Not only was her gown wrinkled, it was also filthy. In the excitement of the last two days, none of them had bathed or ch
anged.

  Smiling with feigned pleasantness at the two Dunbar men, Iliana moved again until she stood between her mother and Angus. "Perhaps you gentlemen would be good enough to arrange for a bath to be brought up? My mother and I would like to refresh ourselves."

  Angus looked about to argue, but a glance at Lady Wildwood's expression made him sigh resignedly. Nodding, he moved to the door. "Come along, lad. Let's leave the ladies be."

  "Are you very angry?"

  Iliana turned from closing the door behind the two men to peer at her mother uncertainly. "Angry?" she queried evasively, unsure herself of how she felt. She supposed part of her felt a touch of hurt and betrayal on behalf of her father; part of her was just plain shocked, and another part...Well, she simply wasn't sure how she felt.

  "Nay, of course I am not angry," she chided gently, moving abruptly toward the chests lining the wall. Throwing the nearest one open, she began to search through it, only to have her hands clasped by her mother's and herself drawn around to face the woman.

  "I loved your father very, very much."

  Iliana nodded silently, unable to meet her gaze.

  "For a long time after Greenweld arrived with the news of his death, there was not a moment that went by that I did not think of your father. The pain of losing him was horrible." Sighing when Iliana's head remained bowed, she released her hands and sat back on her haunches before confessing, "Between that loss and the abuse I suffered at the hands of Greenweld, there were many days I thought of taking my own life."

  Iliana did glance up at that, but Lady Wildwood went on. "You were all that kept me alive, child. Worry for you, your future, and even your inheritance. My love for you would not see me end my life before assuring your own."

  "Oh, Mother," Iliana cried, throwing herself into the older woman's arms and hugging her close.

  "I love you dearly, child. Just as I loved your father. But he is gone now. I did not think I would ever feel about another in the same way I did him."

  Iliana pulled back slightly to meet her gaze, and her mother smiled slightly as she continued, "And I was right."

  Iliana blinked in surprise at that. "But you and Lord Angus were--"

  "I find myself attracted to him, 'tis true." She smiled gently, her gaze drifting as if she saw him in her mind's eye. "He is handsome and strong. A bit rough around the edges, mayhap, but I think I can help him to soften those."

  Now Iliana was completely confused. "But you just said--" she broke off when her mother gave a laugh and a self-deprecating wave of one hand.

  "I am not saying this well. 'Tis true that I will never love again as I loved your father. He was my first love, a good and strong yet gentle man who treated me with more care and respect than I could ever have hoped. And for quite awhile after he died I thought he had taken my heart with him. But that just is not so. I am still alive. I still have feelings. Angus made me realize that."

  Iliana sighed and sat back, contemplating her hands briefly before glancing up to ask, "You love him?"

  Her gaze drifted off again as she considered the question, then she shrugged. "I do not know. I am not yet sure. But I do believe I shall greatly enjoy finding out."

  Iliana blinked at that, then slowly relaxed. "I love you, Mother," she murmured, leaning forward to hug her. Her father was beyond her now, and the most important thing for Iliana was that her mother should not suffer.

  A knock at the door drew mother and daughter apart.

  "Enter!" They called in unison, then shared a smile as Gertie entered, leading a small army of servants. The first two struggled under the weight of a tub. Those who followed bore pail after pail of water, some steaming hot, some not.

  Reaching out to clasp her mother's hand and give it a quick squeeze, Iliana smiled and moved toward the door. "I shall leave you to your bath and see you at dinner. I needs must arrange for my own bath to be brought up."

  "'Tis already done," Gertie murmured, making Iliana slow and glance back as she reached the door.

  "What?"

  "A bath awaits you in the new room at the end of the hall," she was informed.

  "Oh." Her surprise faded slowly and she smiled and shrugged, "Laird Angus must have ordered it. How thoughtful." She glanced at her mother teasingly as she opened the door. "It would seem he has fewer rough edges than you thought, Mother."

  Iliana caught only a glimpse of the smile that accompanied the woman's answering blush as she closed the door behind her. She was still smiling when she turned to walk down the hall and found herself facing an oddly nervous Laird Angus.

  Eyebrows rising slightly, she nodded at the older man. "My lord."

  Angus cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I thought to have a word with ye ere ye sought yer bath, lass. About yer mother--"

  "There is no need, my lord," Iliana assured him gently, reaching to clasp one of his nervously fidgeting hands. "My mother and I have spoken and she is...well, I am happy so long as she is happy."

  He relaxed slightly at that, but still looked wary. "Then 'twould not bother ye to have me fer stepfather as well as father-in-law?"

  Iliana blinked, her mind slowly absorbing his words; then she glanced sharply back toward the door.

  "I haven't asked her yet," he announced, drawing her gaze back to him. "In truth, I will not ask her fer a while yet most like, and I would be glad if ye could keep this talk to yersel'. But I just wanted to be sure ye would not be troubled by our marryin' when it happens."

  "Nay, my lord. It would not bother me," she assured him gently. "But what if she does not wish--" Iliana began, only to be waved to silence.

  "She'll marry me. She doesn't love me yet, but she will, and once she does, we'll be married," he announced confidently, then patted her shoulder and walked on down the hall, leaving her alone.

  Iliana stared after him for a moment, then smiled wryly and shook her head as she continued down the hallway, to the new room Duncan had had built. Truthfully, she hadn't even seen the new chamber he had worked so hard to build for them, and she was curious to do so. The men had made quite a racket building it. She hoped the results were worth it.

  The shock that met her when she opened the door to the new room was almost as great as the shock of coming across her mother in the arms of her father-in-law. It was a near replica of her room at Wildwood.

  Closing the door slowly, she moved farther into the chamber, her gaze moving to the bed. It was the bed from Duncan's room, the only item that was not an exact replica of her room at home. His bed was much larger than hers had been. It had been cleaned since the fire. The wood frame shone in the sunlight pouring through the window. The faded and smoke-stained material that had previously draped it had been removed, replaced with fabric that was very similar to the one that had draped her bed in her childhood home.

  Marveling, she turned to peer around the rest of the furnishings, taking in the tables at either side of the bed and the two large chairs set before the fireplace. That was another difference. In her room at home there had only been one chair before the fire.

  The sound of splashing water reminded her of the bath that Gertie had said awaited her here, and Iliana's forehead puckered with confusion. There was no bath to be found. It was the second splash that drew her eyes to the door beside the bed. She had not noticed it at first but now did so with surprise. There was no such door in her room at home, but it seemed here, a second room was attached to the bedchamber, and that seemed to be where the bath was.

  Thinking the servant must still be filling the tub for her, she moved slowly to the door and peered curiously into the room. Inside was a tub: quite the largest Iliana had ever seen. But the sound of splashing was not from servants filling it with water. It was the sound her husband made as he shifted about inside it, washing himself.

  "I could use some help with me back."

  Iliana started at those words. Duncan had not even glanced up, yet he was aware of her presence. "How did you know I was here?" The question slipped f
rom her lips in surprise and Duncan raised his head slowly to meet her gaze, his own serious.

  "I always ken when yer near. Were I blind I would ken," he repeated her words from the other day, but added gently, "Ye bring the scent o' wildflowers with ye."

  Iliana swallowed, her gaze sliding over his broad, bare chest as he rinsed it. "The room..." Her voice faded away into uncertainty and he paused in his actions to lean back in the tub and smile at her gently.

  "I thought ye might be more comfortable were ye to have a more familiar room. Yer mother and Ebba helped me."

  "That was not necessary."

  "Nay, I ken. I was wrong that day. Yer not afraid o' change as I accused. At least, if ye are, 'tis no more so than anyone else. Me, for instance." He gazed briefly down into the water surrounding him, then smiled crookedly and confessed, "I suppose I had not fully realized what taking a wife would mean when we married. I thought ye would just be another mouth to feed, and a body to warm me bed of a night."

  Iliana's eyebrows rose at that and he shrugged.

  "I am an ignorant man at times, wife. 'Tis not that I am stupid, but sometimes I seem to get all wrapped up in concerns about safety and such and forget such gentle concerns as comfort and carin'. I suspect that may be a problem with most men. Mayhap 'tis why God made women. To supply the softer needs." Sighing impatiently, he shook his head. "I am not saying this well. I had it all planned out and--"

  "You are saying it well enough," Iliana corrected gently, taking a step farther onto the room, a smile trembling on her lips. "You have said it with both your words and deeds."

  He tilted his head slightly, expression solemn. "And what is it I be saying?"

  Iliana hesitated, head turning so that she could take in the room he had made for her, then back to the tub he sat in, in this, the second room. She smiled uncertainly. "That you would wish me happy because you care for me?"

  "Care?" He said the word with some disgust. "Nay, wife. 'Tis not carin' I feel fer ye. Ye've flouted me authority on countless occasions. Refused me me rights on others. Ye are disobedient, contrary, and stubborn. And yet," he added gently when Iliana started to protest, "yet I was never so scared in me life as I was when I realized I had left ye here with but a handful o' men to protect ye and Greenweld battering at the castle. And I was never so proud o' anyone in me life as I was o' ye when Rabbie told me all ye had done to defend yersel' and our home. Ye fire me blood. Ye awaken all me passions. I feel alive when I am with ye."