by Lynsay Sands
“Oh,” Eva murmured as they both slowed to a halt and she took in their surroundings. The clearing was on the edge of a lake that was calm and serene and glinted with the moonlight’s reflection. “Tis lovely.”
“Connall’ll be glad ye think so.” Ewan turned his horse back the way they’d come. “Tell him I’ll return as he asked.”
“Oh, but where is Connall?” Eva turned in her saddle to ask, but if the man heard her, he didn’t answer.
“Here.”
Eva jumped nervously in her saddle and swivelled quickly back to stare at the man now approaching from the water’s edge.
“Did ye think he’d jest leave ye here on yer own?” he asked with amusement.
Eva smiled back a tad wryly and shook her head. Connall had set guards on her to keep her from any more accidents. No, she supposed she hadn’t believed he would have Ewan leave her alone in a clearing in the middle of the woods. “Nay.”
“Nay,” he agreed, and reached up to lift her off her horse, then pressed a kiss on her as he set her on her feet. It was a long, slow kiss that left them both breathless and Connall leaned his forehead against hers for a minute to catch his breath when it ended, then murmured, “Hello.”
“Hello,” she answered, her own voice husky.
Connall smiled at her ready response, then kissed the tip of her nose and took her hand to lead her to the water’s edge, saying, “Glynis said ye were pinin’ fer yer ocean. We’re a wee bit away from the ocean here, but I thought ye might like the loch.”
“Oh.” She peered at the water, and to his face in the moonlight, her heart melting. This trip was in the way of a gift to her, he was trying to make sure she was happy. “Tis lovely, Connall. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“Yer welcome.” He squeezed her hand, then suggested, “We could take a swim if ye’ve a mind.”
She grinned, more than tempted by the idea. The entire time that Glynis had been helping her dress, Eva had been fussing over the fact that she hadn’t the time to bathe before going below because her husband was waiting for her. A swim in a moonlit lake with her husband sounded a lovely alternative. “Yes, please.”
Connall chuckled at her expression and immediately began to undress. Finding herself a tad shy about being nude here where anyone might see, Eva was slower to start, but once Connall went charging off to splash his way into the water, she quickly removed the rest of her clothes and hurried to follow, feeling better once she was immersed in water and therefore had regained some modesty.
“Shy with me, wife?” Connall teased, moving closer to her in the water.
Eva splashed at him and scoffed, “Nay, some of us just have a bit of common decency.”
He chuckled in patent disbelief, then tilted his head and peered at her curiously. “Why ha’e ye no asked questions?”
“Questions?” she echoed.
“About the way I am, and hoo I came to be this way. And why Aileen isnae.”
Eva was silent for a moment. Those questions and many more had been tangling their way through her mind ever since she’d learned he was indeed a vampire, but she hadn’t known how to approach the subject, not that there had really been a chance to until now. But, since he had brought the matter up…“How did you come to be this way?”
“I was born this way,” he answered promptly. “It comes from me mother’s side. Magaidh is a MacNachton, we’re Pictish from early times.”
“And she is one too then?”
“Aye. She’s a full-blood. I am only a half-blood. My father was mortal.”
“And Aileen?”
“She’s half-blood too, like me.”
“How old are you?” Eva asked curiously. Father MacLure had said he had reached adulthood more than thirty years ago, but—
“Six years older than Aileen.” Connall’s answer brought her thoughts to an end and Eva stared at him. Dear God, he was old. He looked damned fine for someone of such an advanced age. And that meant that Magaidh was older still, she realized, thinking of the beautiful woman who looked more like Aileen’s daughter than the other way around.
“If Aileen is a half-blood too, why does she look so much older than you?”
Connall grimaced. “We ha’e found it acts different in each o’ us. Some age, some don’t, some cannae stand sun, some can…” He shrugged. “None of us understands how it works, but we do ken that the more ’tis diluted, the weaker the effect and so Cathal decided we had to continue to weaken the blood.”
“Because of the trouble?” Eva asked, knowing that Cathal was his cousin, the MacNachton.
“Aye.”
“And so you married me,” she said quietly.
“Aye, and ’twas the best demned decision I’ve made in me life,” he said stoutly, moving closer in the water to take her in his arms.
“I am glad you did,” Eva murmured, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as their bodies drifted together.
“So am I,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her lips that appeared as if it might turn into a long one, but Connall ended it abruptly and raised his head. “Someone’s comin,’ a lone rider.”
“I do not hear anything.” Eva glanced around with a frown.
“Our hearing is better,” he said simply, taking her arm to usher her out of the water. “Ye doonae ha’e time to dress, jest grab yer gown and go behind that bush. There’s an entrance to a cave there where ye can hide.”
“But—”
“Go,” Connall ordered, giving her a shove toward the bush he’d pointed to. “And doonae come out until I say so. No matter what. Do ye understand?”
“Aye, but—”
“No, buts. Go.” He pressed another kiss to her forehead and shoved her toward the bush, then turned to collect his plaid and his sword.
Twelve
There was an entrance to a cave directly behind the large bush as Connall had said, but Eva had never cared much for dark places and couldn’t bring herself to go in. Instead, she crouched behind the bush and struggled to turn her gown right side out again as she watched her husband in the clearing. In her rush to get undressed and into the safety of the water, she’d left the gown in a terrible tangle, half inside out and half not, and she was having trouble untangling it with her attention on her husband as Connall grabbed his plaid as if to don it, then suddenly tossed it aside and hurried to the horses instead. Grabbing Millie’s reins, he led the mare quickly around the bush to Eva’s side. She gave up on the dress and straightened at once.
“I told ye to get inside.”
“Aye, but—”
“Take yer mount in there and wait.”
Connall turned away the moment that order was given, not bothering to explain it. Eva supposed that if there was trouble, he wanted to be sure that whoever was coming didn’t guess that someone else might be present, and Millie would have been a dead giveaway of that fact. Taking the mare’s reins, Eva led the animal into the cave a short way, then quickly hurried back out to see that Connall now didn’t have time to dress, and stood naked in the center of the clearing, with nothing but the sword in his hand. Despite his being naked, he was a fearsome sight standing tense, feet slightly apart, body half-crouched as if ready to spring into action. She thought he looked magnificent, like a wild animal, then she heard a horse ride into the clearing.
Eva couldn’t see who it was at first, but knew from Connall’s reaction that all would be well. Her husband relaxed at once and straightened, then smiled and lowered his sword as he started forward. “Ye could ha’e shouted a warning so I kenned it was you.”
“Where’s the fun in that? ’Sides, I didnae ken if ye were here or no. Ye might ha’e been elsewhere.”
Eva relaxed and blew a breath of relief out at the sound of Donaidh’s voice. Shaking her head, she began to concentrate on her gown again, managing to get it untangled and pull it over her head as the men talked.
“Nay. I’m here. What’s happened?”
“Happened?” Donaidh echoed
.
“Aye. Well, ye must ha’e come looking fer me fer a reason. Has somethin’ happened at MacAdie?”
“Nay. I jest wanted to talk to ye aboot these attacks,” Donaidh answered.
“Ah, weell, let me dress first.”
Eva pulled her gown over her head, then began to tug it down as she glanced out into the clearing where Connall had turned to walk back to his plaid. She saw him bend to set his sword on the ground, then snatch his plaid up and straighten with it and had started to glance down to what she was doing again when he suddenly stiffened, his back arching and the plaid slipping from his hands as an arrow suddenly appeared in his back.
Eva was so stunned at the sudden appearance of that arrow, that she didn’t even gasp in surprise, she simply stood there, her hands curling in the material of her skirt and gaped as her husband slowly turned to face where she presumed Donaidh sat astride his mount. The moment he did, another arrow slammed into his chest and Connall stumbled back several steps under the impact.
“If ye go fer the sword, I’ll hit ye again, but I’d rather no jest yet.”
Eva managed to shake off some of her shock as Donaidh’s voice reached her and immediately began trying to think what to do. She had no weapon, she had only her horse, but she had to stop Donaidh. She needed a weapon, or a plan, or both and began to look at what she had available near to hand.
“Ye were the intruder.”
Eva paused in her search to glance toward her husband, his voice had been a harsh gasp and she saw that his face was wreathed in pain. It would seem that vampires might be stronger and faster, but they still felt pain.
“Aye.” She heard the creak of leather from the clearing and presumed Donaidh was dismounting.
“Why?”
“Why?” Donaidh echoed as he stepped into view, approaching where Connall stood, swaying on his feet, both arrows protruding from him like fence posts out of the ground. The younger man didn’t looked particularly angry or in any way emotional at all, really. She found it appalling that someone who had just shot his uncle could look so unaffected. “I’d think that’d be obvious. I’ve spent my whole life as yer only heir.”
“Ye want to be chieftain.” Connall looked as if he’d been struck between the eyes by that realization.
“Aye, I want to lead the clan and always kenned I would eventually, until ye decided to marry,” he said with disgust. “And no jest that, but to marry with the express purpose o’ havin’ bairns. I coudnae ha’e that.”
Connall stared at his nephew, perhaps it was the pain wracking his body, or the weakness brought on by the blood he was losing, but he was finding it difficult to follow the lad’s logic. “Donaidh, I’ve lived sixty years and didnae plan to die any time soon, what difference would a bairn make? What difference does a bairn make when I wasnae like to die and leave the clan to either him or you?”
“Well, I wid ha’e seen to the dyin’ part eventually, with or without a bairn,” his nephew said with a shrug and Connall could hardly believe this was the boy he had rocked to sleep as a babe.
“What were ye waiting fer then?” he asked bitterly.
“Mother and Father to die. I thought it only fair to let ye live a normal length o’ life, at least a mortal one. I’ve always been fond o’ ye, Uncle Connall. I planned to wait until they’d reached the end of their lives, then yer life would ha’e been at an end as weell. I could be patient until then.”
“Ah, such affection.” Connall’s mouth twisted bitterly. “So long as yer parents were alive, I was safe…until Cathal convinced me ’twas time to marry.”
“Aye, ye came back to MacAdie and talked about it at supper, I sat there listenin’ to ye sayin’ ye were to marry a mortal, weaken the blood further, breed babies. Ye made it obvious ’twas all a load o’ bother to ye, but ye felt ye should do it.”
“Aye, ’twas a bother to me at the time,” Connall agreed. He had found it bothersome then, but that had quickly changed once Eva was here. She’d crept into his heart, making him love her, and now he could think of nothing more blissful than a lifetime with her, but Donaidh had no intention of allowing that. “Twas a bother to me, but a threat to ye.”
“Aye.” Anger suffused his face briefly. “Ye put all me plans under threat with that decision, but I wasnae sure what to do. Twas possible ye’d breed a daywalker like me ma, one who would age and die like a mortal and perhaps I could wait that long, but then he might breed too and that one might breed another mortal who would die thirty to fifty years later and so on. It could be endless. Or ye might breed another who widnae age like us and then I’d be right back where I was.”
“And ye couldnae allow that.”
“Nay.” He raised his sword and held it upright between them as he turned it this way and that, as if examining the blade’s workmanship. “So I decided ’twas time to kill ye.”
“Ye were clumsy enough about it,” Connall said, his eyes fixed on the man’s blade. He wished he could snatch it away from the little beggar and teach him a thing or two, but the boy wasn’t close enough yet. He would have to wait for a more opportune moment and hoped he wasn’t so weak by then from blood loss that he couldn’t do what he had to, to survive. He also hoped that Eva stayed put where she was. If he failed to save himself, he’d not have her die with him. She may even now be carrying that bairn Donaidh so loathed the idea of. His bairn.
“Ye doonae think I was trying to kill ye with the arrows, do ye?” Donaidh scoffed. “I ken better than that that they wouldnae ha’e killed ye.”
Connall’s gaze slid from the sword to his nephew’s face and he saw the amusement there. The brat knew he was hoping to take the sword and was amused. “Aye. Ye do.”
He had been attacked three times besides that morning when Donaidh had apparently grown desperate enough to try a direct attack in his own room. But the first attack had been an arrow shot at him on the way to this very loch. He’d been hit in the chest then too. Fortunately, some of the men had been returning from MacNachton where he’d sent them with a message for Cathal. They’d come upon him directly after he took the arrow in the chest and had done a quick search while he removed the arrow, then on finding nothing, they’d ridden with him to hunt to replace the blood lost. An arrow had been used in the third attempt too, the night one of his men was hit in his place.
“My plan was to weaken ye with the arrow as I have this time,” Donaidh explained. “Yer bein’ immortal, I knew I’d most like ha’e to cut yer head off to kill ye, that meant hand-to-hand and face-to-face, but once ye knew ’twas me, I coudnae afford to fail. If I weakened ye first, fortune would be more like to favor me. But Sean and Rabbie showed up ere I could approach to finish ye off.”
“Ah,” Connall nodded wearily, then glanced at him with confusion. “But the second time I took the arrow, ye were ridin’ with me.”
“Aye.” His nephew gave a laugh. “Twasn’t me. Twas a local farmer out poachin’ in the night. He hit ye by accident. I found him when ye had us spread out to search the area. The man was scared silly, he was. Thought sure he was a dead man, but I jest let him go and told him ’twould be our secret. I found it handy fer ye to think ’twas another attack, especially since I was riding with ye at the time so ye couldnae think ’twas me. I knew ye were thinkin’ ’twas connected to the trouble we’ve had o’ late, but I feared if ye ever considered another source was possible—as yer only heir—ye may turn yer suspicions toward me. I hoped that the happy accident would lead yer suspicions away if ye did.”
“And the fire in the crofter’s cottage?” Connall asked, that had been the second attempt, the one between the two arrow hits and just before the men had left to collect his bride.
“That was just chance. I saw ye riding, followed ye to the cottage and saw ye go in. I kenned Willie was no there, he’d gone to see his ailing sister at MacNachton. It seemed a chance to end it. I crept up to the door, saw ye had yer back to me, hit ye o’er the head with the hilt o’ me sword, blocked the door
and set the place afire. I didnae stick around to watch or I wouldnae ha’e been so shocked when Father came riding back with ye on his horse.”
Ewan had come looking for him with a message from Magaidh. She had just returned from MacNachton and knew Willie was there, and that he had gone in search of the man. His first, Donaidh’s father, had arrived to find the cottage on fire and risked himself to unblock the door as Connall had regained consciousness. His horse was missing by then, frightened by fire, as most horses were, and it had headed back to the keep. Connall had ridden back with Ewan on the older man’s mount.
“Ye didnae try again after returning with Eva,” Connall commented.
“I was bidin’ me time, I kenned I mustn’t miss on the next attempt, it had to be simple and needed to be well thought out, and, so long as ye werenae yet sleeping with yer wife, I had time.”
Connall nodded. “Then I consummated the marriage.”
“Aye.” Donaidh grimaced. “Glynis came back with the news. She said her lady looked so upset when she took up the wine, that she feared the two of ye were fightin’ so she stuck around to listen and be sure all was well. She’s verra fond of our Eva is Glynis. She said that if ye were fightin’ ere she arrived, it stopped with the arrival o’ the wine and Eva was finally truly Lady MacAdie. I knew my time had run out.”
“So ye waited for me to return to the chamber and tried to follow.”
He looked irritated. “I felt sure I had seen which stones ye’d pressed. Course, I didnae see the stone in the middle that ye pressed with yer other hand…until ye showed Father.”
Connall didn’t comment on this verification that the click of a door closing had been someone else. He was more interested in other things. “What if Eva is already with child?”
“That would be a shame,” Donaidh said with what seemed true regret. “I like Eva. She’s a sweet lass; pretty and clever and funny and a soft bundle in a man’s arms.”
Connall felt his teeth grind together at this comment and Donaidh assured him. “She hasnae been unfaithful to ye, Uncle. I held her in my arms on the ride down the hill and into the bailey when we brought her back. She was soft and smelled sweet. I might marry her mesel’. Twould probably please the people, but only if she isnae carryin’ yer bairn already.”