Her skin prickled as she sensed Iain becoming impossibly still beside her. Like a predator about to pounce, his eyes were fixed on something at the back of the room. She followed his gaze and almost cried out as she realized that he was focused intently on her younger brother. Ruaridh was shifting around nervously, a guilty look on his face. It might just be that he was acting oddly because he sensed the adults in the room were suddenly afraid, but Ailis feared that was not the case. Remembering that when the attack occurred, her wee brother been coming up the stairs, she realized he must have been outside. What on Earth had he been up to at that time of day? Ruaridh usually slept much later. Then she thought about the strange man she’d seen him speaking to at the market and fear gripped her. Had that man been sent by Gregor to speak to the boy? Surely, Ruaridh would not be stupid enough to have opened the gates for Gregor and his men?
“The boy knows something,” Iain said, breaking into her frantic thoughts.
“What? No, of course he doesn’t,” Ailis protested.
She watched helplessly as Iain signaled to one of his men to bring Ruaridh to him. She could see the terror on her young brother’s face as he was seized by the intimidating warrior and dragged across the room.
“Stop it!” Ailis yelled as her brother began to cry. “He didn’t do anything.”
“The boy can speak for himself,” Iain said tersely. He glared down at Ruaridh who stood trembling before him. “What have you to say, boy?”
“N-nothing,” Ruaridh wailed.
“Do you know who opened the postern gate?”
“No.” A look flitted across the boy’s face that betrayed the lie.
“Who opened the gate?” Iain bellowed and Ruaridh looked as though he would die on the spot.
“I… I don’t know.”
“Really?” Iain clearly didn’t believe him and although it pained her to admit it, neither did Ailis. She knew her brother well enough to recognize the guilt on his face. “Let’s see if we can find a way to loosen your tongue.”
Ailis looked at Iain in horror. It sounded as though he was suggesting using torture to get answers from Ruaridh. It was unthinkable—he was just a little boy. Iain gestured for one of his men to take Ruaridh away and the boy began to scream in terror. He reached out for Ailis but was pulled away and hauled across the room by Iain’s henchman.
“Stop!” Ailis shrieked. “He didn’t do it. I did. I opened the gate!”
Desire to protect her brother overrode her own need for self-preservation and she turned defiantly to Iain. Fury flashed in his eyes and Ailis had no time to duck out of the way as his hand shot out toward her. He struck her, full force, across the face, knocking her to the floor. Landing awkwardly on her side, Ailis whimpered in pain and fear. Iain towered over her, murderous intent written all over his face. She saw his hand reach for the dagger he kept in his belt but, before he had a chance to draw it, Margaret appeared between Ailis and her brother-in-law.
“Enough, my lord,” she said softly, laying a placating hand on his arm.
“Traitors deserve death.” Iain’s tone was cold.
“Perhaps, but you cannot simply appoint yourself executioner,” Margaret told him. “Ailis deserves a chance to defend herself.”
Iain scoffed. “You might not feel so charitable toward her when you learn your lover’s dead.”
Margaret’s face whitened visibly and for a moment Ailis thought she might faint. The other woman seemed to gather her inner strength. She shook her head in rebuke of Iain’s brutal frankness and turned and walked away. Ailis wished she could do the same. The news that a man she loved and admired so greatly was dead cut her to the core. Tears streamed down her face.
“Let the boy go,” Iain commanded, “and toss that bitch in the dungeon.”
As his men pulled Ailis roughly to her feet and led her toward the exit, Iain called out after her.
“You’d better hope my brother wakes, you treacherous bitch, because if he doesn’t, it’s my justice you’ll face.”
Ailis understood all too well what a man like Iain de Moray would do to her if Alexander didn’t recover. She hoped he would waken soon and not just because she was afraid to face Iain’s wrath. Alexander would be forced to punish her severely for what she’d admitted to doing. One way or another, she would face a terrible fate within the next few days and all she wanted was the chance to tell Alexander she loved him before that moment came.
Chapter Sixteen
Ailis shivered with cold and pulled her fur tight around her shoulders. She had no idea how much time had passed in this horrible, dark, and dank dungeon, but she had already had enough of the dismal atmosphere and enforced solitude. It was clear to her now why men went insane when kept in such confinement for months on end. There was barely any light. A single candle in a wall sconce did little to illuminate the room and there was only the smallest window, almost at ceiling height. Even if she could see properly, there would be little to note. The room was not meant for comfort. There was no bed or stool to sit upon, only the wooden pallet covered with straw where she had sat since she was put in here. Her eyelids were growing heavy and she knew she would have to sleep on this hard, makeshift bed if nobody came for her soon. She doubted she would rest well even if slumber did take her. Not while she was worried about Alexander’s injuries.
The one consolation, she supposed, was that her jailer, who she could hear moving around outside, had not bothered to chain her to the wall using the grim-looking iron shackles that were fixed to it. She supposed they saw little point in restraining her. After all, the only way out was through the heavy wooden door and past the guards. There was no chance of her escaping.
A short while ago, a meagre supper of bread and a light ale had been delivered to her, but her stomach had been in knots and she hadn’t been able to eat a single bite. Now, as she grew desperately hungry, she reached for the chunk of bread and nibbled at its corner. She would have to make it last, just in case her confinement was to be prolonged. She doubted prisoners were treated to regular meals.
As she heard the key turning in the lock, she dropped the morsel of food she’d been chewing on and got to her feet. Her limbs were stiff, and she was sore along one side of her body after falling on the floor when Iain struck her. She could feel how swollen her face was and knew she would be horribly bruised. As the door opened, she pressed herself back against the wall, terrified that Iain de Moray had come for her. Her jailer came into the room, bearing a flaming torch that brought welcome light into the cell. He stepped to one side and Margaret came into the room. Seeing that it was not Iain who’d come to her, Ailis breathed a sigh of relief, but some anxiety remained as she had no idea how the other woman felt about her right now. Her worries eased somewhat when Maggie spoke.
“How do you fare, Ailis?” There was nothing but warmth and compassion in her voice.
“I am well. Is there any word of Alexander?”
“Your husband lives,” Margaret confirmed. “He drifts in and out of sleep, but the healers say he will recover soon.”
Ailis blew out a long, slow breath, taking a moment to digest that good news. Even though she knew her husband must punish her now, she was glad that he was alive and on the mend.
“And Niall? Is it true he’s dead?”
“Aye,” Margaret replied, giving a shrug that somehow managed to convey the depth of loss she was feeling. “They say he didn’t even see the other man coming. He died straight away.”
Ailis bowed her head. “You must hate me.”
“No, Ailis, I don’t hate you,” Margaret reassured her, “because I don’t believe it was you who let Gregor in.”
“You don’t?” Ailis asked in surprise.
“Of course not. You despise Gregor and love your husband. It makes no sense for you to betray Alexander for a brother you loathe.” Margaret gave her a searching look that made her uncomfortable. “Why did you say it was you who opened the gate?”
Ailis shrugged. She d
idn’t want to share her suspicions about Ruaridh, even with Margaret, who loved the little boy as much as she did. Asking her to keep quiet about it would be unfair. Even if Margaret didn’t say a word, she doubted her jailer would remain tight-lipped. He was standing there with an impassive look on his face but Ailis knew he was taking in every word that passed between her and the other woman.
“Were many killed?” Ailis asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Most of Gregor’s men perished, only two of ours.”
Margaret’s lip wobbled and Ailis felt a great heaviness descend upon her. That Niall should be one of only two men who perished made his death seem even worse somehow.
“We should not dwell upon it,” Margaret said stoically. “I came to tell you that you’re being released from this horrible place. Your brother-in-law has agreed to confine you to your old bedchamber instead.”
Ailis raised her eyebrows in surprise. Such a concession from a hard man like Iain was completely unexpected. Someone must have appealed to him on her behalf.
“You had a hand in this?” she asked Margaret.
The other woman shrugged. “I expressed my hope that he would show compassion. He said you could remain in your chamber until they decide what to do with you. But Ailis, you mustn’t try to escape. He’ll kill you on the spot.”
“Don’t worry,” Ailis said resolutely. “I won’t be going anywhere.”
She intended to face whatever punishment Alexander decided to impose and make sure that Ruaridh was safe. She knew there was a strong possibility she would be exiled or killed for the treachery she’d confessed to, but if she needed to sacrifice herself for her younger brother, then so be it. But she could not meet her fate without first letting Alexander know that she loved him. Whether it made any different to what happened to her, only time would tell.
* * *
Alexander groaned as he slowly came around. His head ached and as his eyes opened fully, he was grateful that the light in the room was subdued. Struggling to sit up, he looked around the room. Given that it was clearly early in the morning, he was surprised that Ailis was not in the bed next to him. He was even more confused about what was happening when he spotted his brother sprawled out in the chair in front of the fire, clearly sound asleep.
He scrubbed a hand across his face and then ran his fingers through his hair. As soon as he touched his right temple, he felt a swelling and a strange rough patch, which he quickly realized was where a poultice had been applied to a wound. Slowly, the memory of what had happened started to creep in. The castle had come under attack from Gregor MacDonnell’s men. He remembered little of the battle but assumed, since he was here in his own bed, that his men had prevailed. But what of his wife? Where the hell was she?
“Iain.” His voice came out a little weakly. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Iain!”
This time his brother woke. Immediately alert, he leapt from his seat and raced to Alexander’s bedside.
“You’re awake!”
The look on Iain’s face almost made Alexander laugh. He’d never seen such concern in his brother’s eyes. He and his siblings loved each other deeply but it wasn’t something they ever expressed. To show such emotion would be bad for their fearsome reputations. Still, the affection his younger brother felt for him was undeniable as he laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t try to get up,” Iain commanded. “You’ve taken a blow to the head.”
That much, Alexander had worked out for himself. “How long was I unconscious?”
“You’ve been drifting in and out for more than a day. The physicks thought it would be a week or more before you woke fully.”
“I am not an easy man to put down,” Alexander said. He stretched out the crick in his neck and looked to his brother. “What happened to MacDonnell?”
“Dead by my hand.”
“And my wife? Where is she?”
Iain shifted uncomfortably, and Alexander knew that he was not going to like what his brother had to say.
“Someone opened the gates to MacDonnell’s men. Your wife confessed it was she.”
Alexander shook his head in disbelief. It made no sense to him that Ailis would do such a thing. He knew that she disliked her brother, that she saw him as a threat to the safety of wee Ruaridh to whom she was very attached. Yet, he remembered, when he ran down to help repel the attack, Ailis had not been in the bedchamber where she ought to be so early in the morning.
“You have not answered my question, Iain. Where is she?”
Again, Iain looked ill at ease. Fear gripped Alexander as he searched his brother’s face for clues to what happened. Iain was quick to anger and often lashed out before thinking about the consequences of his actions. Had he harmed Ailis?
“She’s under guard in her old bedchamber,” Iain said eventually.
Alexander breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m surprised you didn’t confine her to the dungeons.”
“I did, at first,” Iain admitted, “but Lady Margaret persuaded me to show a little mercy.”
Iain looked down at the floor and his shoulders slumped forward.
“You have more to tell me?” Alexander knew his brother well. He could see that there was something his brother was reluctant to share.
“When she confessed her treachery, I was blinded by rage,” Iain said. “I struck her, and she fell to the floor. If Lady Margaret had not intervened, I would have killed her where she lay.”
Alexander’s eyes darkened as he fought to control himself. Whether she had committed a crime against him or not, Iain had no right to hurt his wife.
“For what it is worth, brother, I am sorry for it,” Iain said. “I was too quick to strike out. Whatever she has done, she deserves a fair trial.”
“A trial,” Alexander parroted weakly. Yes, if she had confessed to an act of treachery, the case would have to be heard and a severe punishment handed down. The very thought of having to preside over such a trial made his heart heavy but as laird and chieftain of the clan, he would have to see that justice was served. “I cannot believe she is guilty.”
“She confessed,” Iain said, “and there’s more I haven’t told you. At the market, I caught her speaking to a man I had not seen before. He evaded my men, but I saw him again today, amongst the MacDougalls we slew.”
A flash of anger burned through Alexander, but it was quickly doused by sadness at the very thought of his wife conspiring against him. He was seized by a sudden compulsion to go to Ailis. He needed to hear her side of the story because, to him, it just didn’t make sense that she would betray him. Throwing off the blankets that covered him, Alexander swung his legs off the bed and lowered them to the floor.
“What are you doing?” Iain objected. “The physicks say you must rest.”
“I need to see my wife,” Alexander said with a determination that could not be denied.
“Then get back in bed and I’ll fetch her to you.”
Alexander shook his head vehemently, triggering a wave of nausea. He knew he was not really fit to be up and about, but he wanted to see Ailis, and not while he was laid up in bed. He had no intention of showing any weakness in front of her. Until the matter of her guilt was resolved, and punishment determined in the presence of the leading members of the clan, he had to be strong.
“Help me to dress and get over to the chair by the fireplace,” he told Iain. “Then you may bring her to me.”
Apparently understanding that his brother would not be dissuaded, Iain nodded his head and helped him to his feet. Alexander felt a little unsteady and was grateful for his brother’s support as he put his arm around Iain’s shoulder. He was wearing a long undershirt so all he needed was a plaid and a pair of boots to look respectable. Once he was dressed, he would feel less like an invalid. Then, he would be able to deal with his wife properly. At least, that’s what he told himself.
* * *
“You summoned me, my lord,” Ailis said softly as Alexander stared
past her, into the deep orange flames flickering in the fireplace. She had been standing before him for a good five minutes and he was yet to utter a single word. When Iain came and told her that her husband was awake and asking to see her, she’d almost jumped for joy. Now, she was beginning to wonder what his purpose in having her brought here was. This lingering silence was starting to make her extremely uneasy. “Have you nothing to say?”
“I have much to say, madam,” he said, giving her a meaningful glare before falling into brooding silence once more.
Ailis sighed. He was not going to make this easy on her and it was not reassuring that he was addressing her as madam when she was used to hearing him call her lass, or my lady. Trying not to show that the quiet and Iain’s intimidating presence as he kept a watchful eye on them from across the room were making her nervous, Ailis studied Alexander carefully. His face was pale, his expression betraying a weariness she’d not seen in him before. The wound on his head looked nasty, but she doubted that the injury was the sole cause of his poor humor. It was clear that he was deeply disappointed in her and she wondered whether he was struggling to find the words to tell her so.
“Does it pain you, my lord?” she asked. “Your head, I mean?”
“Aye, a little,” Alexander admitted, to her surprise. He looked up at her and seemed to make an examination of her swollen cheekbone and bruised eye. “And your face, does that hurt?”
“Not so much, now.” She could see that Alexander was skeptical. “It looks worse than it feels, I think.”
“My brother should not have struck you.”
Ailis flashed a nervous look at Iain, but he didn’t seem to have reacted to the clear rebuke in Alexander’s tone.
“He believed he had cause.” Ailis did not wish to excuse Iain’s assault on her but she understood why he had hit her. In his eyes, she was a traitor, whose actions had almost led to his older brother’s death. If there was one thing that Ailis found admirable about the glowering warrior, it was that he was fiercely loyal to those he loved.
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