Highland Wolf

by Hannah Howell

  “So ye think she was really murdered, that it wasnae just some tragedy.”

  “Aye, I do.”

  Annora sat up straight and finally asked one of the questions that had troubled her for so long. “Are ye verra sure it was Mary who died in that fire?”

  James stared at her for a full minute before answering. “Who else could it have been?”

  “I dinnae ken. ’Tis just that I heard that, weel, there wasnae much left after the fire, so how could anyone looking at the body be certain it was your wife?”

  “No one could be, but the wedding band I had given her was on her finger and there were a few scraps left of the dress she had worn that day. Also, several people said they had seen her go to the cottage.”

  Annora’s questions had stirred up some very disturbing ideas in James’ mind and he got up to pace the room. One thing he had never wanted to consider was the possibility that it had not been Mary who died. Since that could mean that she could have helped MacKay destroy him, that possibility had also been the very last thing he would ever have wanted to consider. The last time such thoughts had flickered in his mind he had told himself he should leave no stone unturned in his search for the truth, but he had not followed through. He still did not want to believe it, but he knew he would be an utter fool to completely dismiss the chance that his sweet, shy wife had not been all she had appeared to be, that she had been MacKay’s ally. It was time to stop shying away from what might be a very ugly truth.

  “Once or twice I have thought that it might not have been her. Thought it in passing and even told myself I should look into that possibility. I havenae done it, fool that I am.”

  “Ye shouldnae blame yourself for that. No one would want to even think that their wife or husband could betray them so fully.”

  “Mayhap not, but it means I ignore some facts that could weel lead me to the truth. I cannae afford to worry about what I might discover. Dunncraig and the welfare of its people depend upon me ending MacKay’s rule here.”

  Annora nodded, feeling a great deal of sympathy for him but guessing that he would not really appreciate her showing it. “Meggie once told me that—”

  “She saw MacKay kissing her mother?”

  “Aye. She said as much to ye?” Suddenly recalling that fleeting look of guilt on Meggie’s face the day she had said she had talked to the wood-carver, Annora almost grimaced. Maybe she should have discussed the matter a little more.

  “Aye, but she was just a child of two when her mother died. How could she recall something like that?”

  For a moment Annora thought about that and then her eyes widened with surprise. “Mayhap it wasnae so verra long ago.”

  “What do ye mean?”

  “What if it wasnae Mary who burned in that cottage? If it wasnae, that means she was alive while ye were being accused of her murder and e’en when ye lost everything and had to run for your life.”

  “Which means she was allied with your cousin.”

  The fury in his voice made her wince, but she did not intend to let that deter her. “Mayhap, or she was being kept prisoner somewhere. Howbeit, it could be that Meggie stumbled across a meeting between Mary and Donnell later, when she was old enough to recall such a thing, and that is when she saw them kissing.”

  “How could Mary be alive and living close enough to be seen by Meggie yet nay by anyone else at Dunncraig?” James struggled to think of where Mary might have been hiding even as he argued the possibility that she was still alive. “And wouldnae Meggie have said something about seeing her mother?”

  Annora gave him a sad smile. “Once Donnell arrived at Dunncraig, Meggie quickly learned that she shouldnae speak much at all and certainly not to Donnell. She learned young to keep secrets. A sad lesson for a child, but I am glad she had the wit to learn it so quickly.”

  James moved to the small arrow-slot that was his window and, even though he could see nothing, stared out of it. He needed to think about all they had just spoken of. If Mary had been MacKay’s lover and ally, it would certainly explain how quickly the man had brought him down. Mary had been a much-needed traitor right inside the walls of Dunncraig. He hated to think he had been such a blind fool as concerned his wife, but it was time to push his pride aside and consider it. If naught else, he could find some comfort in the fact that he had never really loved her. It was sad but it meant he had not been a complete fool.

  There had to be someone at Dunncraig who knew, if not the whole tale, at least that Mary may have taken MacKay as her lover. It was the sort of thing that rarely stayed a complete secret. MacKay would have killed nearly everyone who might have known the truth, but there had to be someone, somewhere, that had had enough sense to hold secret what he had learned. He then wondered if that was one of the things Big Marta had heard and was trying to find the truth of.

  He inwardly cursed, long and viciously. Instead of uncovering the truth, he was now mired in a web of deceit and betrayal that was becoming more and more entangled. Although he had not been so naïve as to think he could quickly find the truth and be declared innocent, save for a few pleasant dreams about such an event, he had never anticipated that it would all be so complicated. At least he was beginning to gather a few allies. With a few more eyes and ears looking and listening for the truth, he might yet find what he needed.

  Annora watched James as he stared out the tiny window, knowing it did not matter that he could probably see nothing even if he wanted to. All of his attention was turned to his own thoughts. It was not just for her own sake that she found herself praying he had not loved his wife too deeply. Every instinct she had told her that Mary, a woman everyone spoke of as being sweet and shy, had been part of the plot that had robbed James of so much. It had to be a bitter potion for such a proud man to swallow.

  She studied his broad, smoothly muscular back and idly wondered if she should remind him that he was nearly naked. Selfishly she decided not to. He was too great a pleasure to look at. Considering all the dark, sad things they had to think and talk about, she felt she could be forgiven for stealing a little pleasure for herself.

  Letting her gaze move over his fine body with a freedom she would never have allowed herself if he had been looking at her, Annora tried to think of what they had to do to answer some of the many questions they now had. There was also the fact that, if Mary still lived, James Drummond was a married man and she should not be sitting there thinking about how she would love to kiss all that fine smooth skin.

  She rolled her eyes. She would not be a woman if she did not enjoy what she was looking at. And Annora doubted any woman could be so cold she was left unstirred by the sight of a nearly naked James Drummond. Then again, if what she was beginning to suspect was true, Mary had been so unmoved as to betray the man with Donnell of all people. That was so hard to believe, yet, over the years, Annora had seen enough proof of how witless some women could be concerning men that she had to believe it was at least possible.

  For a moment, Annora closed her eyes and just let her mind wander and her body relax. Occasionally when she did this she would have some insight. It felt foolish even to her, but it never failed to work. If the insight came, it was always a true one, as well. Every instinct she had told her Mary had betrayed James. A moment later, those instincts told her that Mary was dead.

  “We need to find where Mary is hiding,” James said at last, turning to look at Annora.

  “I dinnae think we will succeed,” Annora said quietly, blinking rapidly as she came back to her senses.

  James walked over to the bed and frowned at her. “Why do ye say that? Have ye just remembered something that might be important?”

  “Nay, not remembered. Felt.”

  “Felt?”

  “Aye, felt. Sometimes I can feel things.” She quailed at telling him such things, but there was no other way to explain the certainty she felt as she told him what she had decided. “I truly feel that Mary really is dead. She didnae die in that fire, but she i
s dead.” To her surprise he did not ridicule her or cross himself to protect himself against evil as some did when they found a person with her sort of gift.

  “Have ye had a vision?”

  Annora was so surprised by his calm question and the lack of fear or scorn in his eyes that she nearly gaped. “Nay, not a vision exactly,” she replied, compelled to tell him the whole truth. “Sometimes if I clear my head of all thought and relax I can sense things. I sense that Mary is dead. She knew too much, didnae she?”

  James’ expression turned grim as he nodded. “Aye, she did, and people who ken too much about MacKay and his crimes have a habit of dying.”

  “Precisely. He couldnae let her live. Mayhap she e’en pushed him too hard to act on something before he was ready to. My cousin reacts verra violently when he is pushed too hard.”

  “So I have heard. And, aye, if Mary was his ally in what was done to me, she probably expected him to make her his wife.”

  “But ye didnae die and so she remained wed to ye.”

  He nodded slowly, appreciating the way they could help each other in thinking out all the possibilities. “And so she would begin to press him to act, to make her a widow so that she could marry him and return to being the lady of Dunncraig.”

  “Only he couldnae allow that, for he had had ye condemned for killing her.”

  “And her return, alive and hale, would make him a liar. Having used his deceit to ruin a laird and take his lands, he would hang for certain. Nay, Mary couldnae live.”

  Annora shook her head. “I dinnae ken. It all sounds right and yet ’tis so hard to believe there was such an intricate plot against ye.”

  “It had to be intricate and verra clever. I have ne’er done a thing to bring such a quick harsh judgment down on my head. What sins I have committed were wee ones, the sort most men commit, worthy only of some penance meted out by a priest. MacKay needed to be verra clever to get me cried an outlaw, especially since my family isnae without some power as weel. They were taken by surprise, however, and had no chance to stop the decree of outlawry.”

  “They could have done that?”

  “Oh, aye, I think so. They certainly could have held the final decision in abeyance and given us all time to find out the truth. I suspect MacKay knew that and that is why he moved so secretively. And swiftly.”

  She nodded. “Aye. My cousin is verra good at kenning who has power, how to use it, or how to get around it”

  James stared at her as she sat there frowning, most likely at the perfidy of her cousin. They had talked about his problems enough, at least his body thought so. It was rapidly hardening in a demand he was finding very hard to ignore. She knew his secret now, so there was no longer any reason to be cautious or hide from her, and that loosened the meager restraints he had held on his desire for her. Perhaps it was even the sight of her sitting on his bed where he had so often imagined her, but it could just as easily be the sound of her voice or her soft scent. All he knew for certain was that he wanted her badly and he wanted her now.

  Chapter Nine

  “I dinnae want to speak of this any longer,” James said as he abruptly sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms.

  Annora could tell by the look in his eye that he did not wish to talk about anything else, either. She could sense that his desire was rising hot and fierce and it was rapidly feeding her own, making her feel slightly feverish. It was difficult to think of all the reasons why she should leave his bedchamber as quickly as possible. There were a lot of them, but with each soft kiss he placed upon her face, her common sense faded away a little more.

  “If I dinnae leave to change and wash, I willnae get to the great hall in time for the evening meal,” she said, recognizing that for the weak excuse it was and unable to pull out of his arms.

  “Will they miss ye and send someone to search for ye?”

  “Nay, I doubt it. They ne’er have before.”

  “Then stay with me.”

  “I dinnae think that would be wise.” Considering the way he could make her heart pound by simply brushing his fingers over her cheek, she knew it would not be wise.

  “Ah, my bonnie wee lass, the verra last thing ye stir inside me is the wish to be wise.”

  Before Annora could say a word, she was on the bed with James moving over her. When he settled his weight on top of her, she felt her whole body welcome him with a shameless abandon. Her mind, however, struggled to cling to a few scraps of common sense. If even a few of their ideas about Mary and Donnell had any true merit, it was a very dangerous time to recklessly indulge their passion for each other. If Egan ever found out she was sure that James would have to run again or suffer a painful death.

  She was also a virgin, and although she could think of no one else she would want as a lover as much as she wanted Sir James Drummond, memories of her mother’s sad fate flooded her mind. Annora had always vowed that she would not stumble down the same ruinous path her mother had and she would never curse a child of hers with the shame that came from being bastard born. The way she felt as James held her told her how very close she was to breaking every vow she had ever made to herself, and that terrified her.

  She pressed her hands against his chest and her good sense took yet another serious battering. His skin was so smooth and warm. The feel of taut muscle beneath that fine skin made her feel dizzy with passion. She ached to touch him all over, to stroke him from head to foot. Annora caught herself tracing a ragged scar that ran from just above his breastbone and over his left shoulder and realized that she was losing her battle with her own desires again. She had never thought it would be so hard to do as she ought to and not as she so badly wanted to.

  “Rolf,” she began and then blushed. “Nay. ’Tis James, isnae it? ’Tis only now that I e’en ken what your real name is.”

  James brushed a kiss over her mouth. He could almost feel her conflicting emotions in the way she would tense and then soften. It was easy enough to read them on her slightly flushed face as well. Although he had seen her assume a calm, even meek expression before MacKay or Egan time and time again, she rarely did so with him and he found himself immensely pleased by that fact. Seeing the battle she was waging between what she wanted and what was considered proper made him feel a little guilty. He knew he should immediately pull away, should not push her into an intimacy she was not fully ready and willing to partake of, but he was not sure he was strong enough to do so.

  It had been so long since he had enjoyed the soft heat of a woman. In truth, he had not really satisfied that need with his own wife, for Mary had always shied away from any intimacy and had never grown passionate and warm. Or she had been repulsed, he thought, and then he quickly shook that painful, humiliating thought away. All he had as of now was some suspicions. He would not condemn his wife without proof.

  Thinking of Mary made him tense for a moment. He might still be married. Although he had every intention of finding a way to end his marriage to Mary if she was still alive and had indeed betrayed him, that could take years and a lot of coin. Then he inwardly shook his head. Mary was dead. She might not have died when everyone thought she had, but he felt sure that Annora was right in feeling that Mary had died. After being raised by the Murrays, a clan riddled with people who possessed all manner of gifts, he found it very easy to believe in Annora’s feelings.

  Just as easy as it was to desire her so much that his whole body felt as if it was tied up in knots, hot, aching knots of pure hunger. James knew it was past time to stop trying to explain his fierce need for her by telling himself that it was caused by his lengthy celibacy. So deep and overwhelming was his desire for her that he had continued to cling to his celibacy despite many offers from the maids of Dunncraig to end it. He could have made sure that he and his chosen maid had rutted in the dark so that his disguise was protected. He had simply not wanted to end his celibacy with anyone but Annora MacKay, and unless she strongly, loudly denied him, he fully intended to do so now.

/>   “I have wished to hear my true name upon your lips from the verra moment we met,” he said softly as he gently nipped the silken lobe of her ear.

  “We really shouldnae do this,” she whispered in an unsteady voice, the way he was teasing her ear with his lips and tongue, making her tremble with a need she was rapidly losing all control of. “I shouldnae do this.”

  “Aye, ye should. Ye ken weel that it is what ye want. When was the last time ye grasped what ye wanted or e’en had a chance to do so?”

  “It isnae always wise or right to just do as one wants to do. Everything has consequences.”

  “What consequences can there be to our sharing the passion that we both feel so strongly?”

  “I am a consequence of such recklessness,” she said softly.

  “Ah, lass, ye are no consequence; ye are a gift, a blessing. Ye heed the words of too many fools.” He began to unlace her gown, encouraged when she tensed only slightly and made no move to stop him.

  “Those fools merely repeat the teachings of the church. Ne’er forget that.”

  “And the church is ruled by men, lass. Aye, many have a true calling, hold a deep belief, but too many were just sent into the church by their families, nay for serving God, but for a living or e’en for power.”

  “Heresy,” she said and suddenly grinned.

  Annora realized that she was ready to throw caution to the wind. She briefly wondered if her mother had felt like this when she had taken a lover, hot and reckless and aching to take a chance on a beautiful man who made her heart beat faster. Unlike her mother, however, Annora knew this man would never turn his back on his own child. That would be enough for her.

  “Did ye truly lose your eye?” she asked softly as she lightly touched the edge of the patch he wore.