Sweet Revenge

by Lynsay Sands

  "I did that to me brother as well once," Aelfread told her, grinning widely, then her expression turned wry as she added, "He still hasn't forgiven me for it."

  "As I recall, Johnny was none too pleased, either," Kyla laughed, then sighed unhappily as she thought of her brother and wondered if he had recovered or was now dead.

  Taking in her expression, Aelfread remembered Robbie telling her about Kyla's brother's woes. She reached out to pat her hand. "Yer fretting over him?"

  Nodding, Kyla stared blankly at the chessboard, then gave a harsh laugh. When Aelfread raised her eyebrows at the sound, Kyla merely shrugged and shook her head. "I was just thinking that this time yesterday I was praying he would hurry and get well so that he would send an escort to free me from this place."

  "And now?"

  "And now I know there is no escape," she muttered bitterly.

  "Surely, 'tisn't so bad?" Aelfread murmured worriedly.

  Kyla was silent for a moment, then glanced at her. "You asked me what happened when we retired and I said we had words, which is true, but after the words...we...er...consummated it. The marriage I mean."

  "Did ye now?" Her gaze slid down to the board between them.

  "Aye. Well, he seemed to think it necessary."

  "O' course he did."

  Kyla hardly noticed the dryness of the other woman's tone, her mind was on more upsetting matters as she whispered: "I do not even know his name."

  Aelfread raised her head sharply, amazement on her face. "What?"

  "I said, I do not even know his name," Kyla repeated grimly. "I am married to the man. Did things with him last night that I wouldn't even have done with...Well with anyone, yet I do not even know his name."

  "What?!"

  Seeing the total bewilderment on the other woman's face, Kyla clarified for her. "We were never properly introduced. Morag always refers to him as the MacDonald and everyone else calls him 'me laird.' I do not know his name."

  Aelfread accepted that disclosure with a blink, then sank back on the bench, seeming at a total loss as to what to say.

  Kyla nodded. "You can see what a spot I am in. Somehow I do not think this is the path a normal marriage takes. At least I am sure most women know their husbands' names, if nothing else, before indulging in such intimate...er...frolicking."

  "The lack-witted oaf!"

  Kyla's eyes widened in amazement and Aelfread waved her hand in disgust.

  "M'lady, after these months of marriage to Robbie, it has become me sorry conclusion that men are God's most lack-witted of creatures. They charge about doing this and that, but never bother with the important stuff like actually telling someone about it...Or even introducing themselves." Shaking her head, she glanced toward the board again, muttering. "His name is Galen."

  Kyla gave a start at that. "Galen? Well, he's been acting as chatelaine then."

  "What?"

  "Well, you see, when I got up this morn Galen was already gone. I thought to take on some of the duties as mistress and wished to speak to whomever was in charge of them now. When I asked who that was, everyone kept saying Galen, then when I asked who Galen was, the servants all seemed to get quite distressed." Amusement tugged at her lips now. "'Tis no wonder they reacted so. They must have thought it odd for me to ask such a question."

  "Oh, damn!" Aelfread leapt to her feet and began to pace the small stretch of floor on the other side of the table.

  "Now what is the matter?"

  "Don't ye see?" She asked, turning on Kyla with wide, distressed eyes.

  "That will just be another incident that they will hold up as proof that yer mad," she pointed out grimly.

  "Aye." Kyla sighed glumly, then blinked and peered up at Aelfread. "You do not think I am mad, do you?"

  "Me?" She clucked her tongue and shook her head firmly. "Nay, of course not. But I have talked to you." She sighed dispiritedly and admitted, "I tried to tell Robbie that you weren't crazy last night, but he wouldn't even listen to me on the matter." She was silent for a moment, then murmured, "Robbie says the witch said--"

  Kyla waved her to silence, a disgusted expression crossing her face. "Morag was hoping it would convince the MacDonald he should not marry me."

  "I fear it did not work," Aelfread said, her lips tipping up with slight amusement.

  "I had noticed that," Kyla muttered dryly, then moaned. "I am married to a stranger and mistress over people who think me mad.... Aelfread, what am I to do?"

  Her friend looked uncertain, then sighed and admitted, "I don't know."

  When Kyla began to chew on her lip worriedly, Aelfread patted her hand again. "I shall think of something. I'll think on it tonight and come up to the keep on the morrow. We will work it out, never fear. Now come, let us not think on it for now. Let's play chess."

  It was a serious case of deja vu. One that Galen was not happy to relive. "What do ye mean 'she is missing'?"

  Morag winced at the MacDonald's roar and shook her head. "Just what I said. She is missing. She snuck out. She sent that great mountain of a man to fetch me and while his back was turned she slipped out. He's out looking for her now. I can't--" She paused as the keep door flew open and Robbie came in.

  "Where is she?" Galen snapped, hurrying to meet his man.

  Robbie had been told that the laird was back. He had not been happy to hear it; he was even less so now with the news he had to give him. "I haven't found her."

  "What?!"

  Robbie winced at that roar, but explained quickly, "I thought mayhap she had returned to the beach, but she wasn't there, so I rounded up some men and we've scoured every inch of the island. She is nowhere to be seen."

  Kyla could tell the moment she reached the entrance to the bailey that something was amiss. The bailey itself seemed more crowded with people than usual and there was a buzz of tension in the air that set her on edge even before the men at the gate spotted her and started grimly forward. When the two men clapped hands on her arms and began dragging her toward the keep, Kyla immediately set up a struggle, aware of the silence that was spreading around the bailey as her arrival was noted.

  "What the Devil is going on?" she asked with amazement as she was propelled up the front steps, but the men merely continued forward. She was still struggling and muttering as they opened the keep doors and hustled her inside.

  "Nowhere?! Nowhere?! My wife is damned well somewhere! I want her found!"

  "We found her, me laird!"

  For a moment, Kyla was too stunned by the distress obvious in her husband's voice as he had bellowed those words to realize that the men presently strong-arming her across the hall were claiming to have "found" her. Once their words sank in, however, she frowned and struggled free of their hold. "No one found me, I was on my way back into the bailey when these two--" Her voice died as Galen turned toward her and she caught the fury on his face. Goodness! He looked about to explode. Clearing her throat, she forced a small smile. "How went your fishing trip?"

  Kyla could almost hear the rumble of thunder as the storm clouds rolled across his face. When he clenched his hands in rage and took a step toward her, nothing on earth could have kept her where she stood. Turning on her heel, she raced up the stairs to their bedchamber, crashed into the room, then immediately set about barricading the door with as many chests as she could move. She had no idea if her husband was prone to violence...and she had absolutely no intention of finding out just now.

  She had just moved the last chest into place when a light tap sounded at the door. Stiffening, she peered at the panel of wood, cleared her throat, then asked, "Who is it?"

  "Morag."

  Kyla hesitated briefly, then: "Are you alone?"

  "Aye."

  Cursing, she shifted from one foot to the other briefly, then, muttering under her breath, began shifting the chests again. With the last one out of the way, she tugged the door open cautiously and peered out, stepping aside to let the old woman in when she saw that she was indeed alone.

/>   "What is he doing?" she asked, shoving the first chest back into place.

  "He's gone to fetch Tommy to watch ye."

  Kyla paused at that and straightened. "He has?"

  "Aye."

  She thought briefly, then, "What of Robbie?"

  Morag raised her eyebrows. "What? Are ye deaf now? He dressed the man down something awful. Called him a fool, amongst other things, and sent him home. Said he couldn't watch a kitten worth beans."

  Kyla bit her lip at that, guilt assailing her for getting the man in trouble. She had heard Galen roaring away below, but had paid little attention to what he was saying as she had hurriedly been shoving nearly the entire contents of the room against the door. Sighing, she let her shoulders sag. "He is very angry, isn't he?"

  "Oh, aye. I'd say so," Morag said dryly and moved back toward the door.

  "Where are you going?" Kyla asked, following her anxiously.

  "Out of harm's way. I just came to warn ye he'll no doubt still be angry when he returns with Tommy."

  "You are leaving me alone?" Kyla cried with alarm as she opened the door.

  "Ye got yerself into this one, child," she said calmly, then seeing the fear on Kyla's face she relented a bit and patted her arm. "He's a fair man. Ye'll get no more than ye deserve."

  With that, she slid from the room. Kyla stood briefly, staring at the door with dismay, then hurried to the chest to fetch her other plaid. Draping it over herself like a shawl, she hurried to the door and slid out into the hall. His giving her no more than she deserved was a bit less than reassuring at that moment. In his anger, who knew what he might think her deserving of?

  "She's daft? She is?" Aelfread glared at her husband furiously.

  Kyla had left only a few short moments before Robbie had stomped into the cottage. Banging the door open, he had charged in, then crashed about the cottage, muttering under his breath. Aelfread had been gaping at her usually placid husband in amazement when he had suddenly turned on her to announce in something close to a roar, "That silly bitch the laird married is as daft as the day is long and will be nothing but trouble 'til the day she dies."

  Having just spent the afternoon being demolished at chess by that "daft" woman and now counting her as friend, Aelfread was a little less than impressed. She had no problem letting her husband know it, either. "It seems to me 'tis ye men that have gone soft in the head!"

  Whirling around in shock at those words, Robbie glared at the small redhead now facing him, hands on her hips. "And what would ye be meaning by that?"

  "Not a thing," she said dryly, then snapped, "Did it never occur to all ye fine men to introduce her to the man?"

  "What?!"

  "Ye heard me!"

  "Aye, I heard ye! But I don't have any idea what the bleeding hell yer talking about!"

  Pausing to take a deep breath, Aelfread exhaled slowly, then explained, "She was here today--"

  "Here! Right here? This is where she was?" The veins in his throat began to bulge at this news. He had searched everywhere on the island for that woman and all that time she had been right here in his own home.

  "Aye. We played chess."

  "Chess?!"

  Ignoring his mounting fury, Aelfread nodded. "Aye. And talked. And Kyla told me she didn't even ken Galen's name ere today."

  Robbie peered at her blankly at that, then grunted in triumph. "There ye are then! She's daft. Soft in the head. Looney as--"

  "Ye never introduced them!" Aelfread interrupted with frustration.

  "Who?"

  "Lady Kyla and Laird Galen!"

  He peered at her as if she had gone mad. "Why the Devil would I be introducing them? They're man and wife."

  "Well, I've no doubt ye introduced yerselves. Could ye no' take the trouble to introduce the man she'd married? The poor lass didn't even ken his name."

  "Now who is it gone soft in the head?" He snorted with derision and plopped onto one of the benches that lined the table. "Didn't ken his name? Indeed! If she didn't ken it, 'Twas because she couldn't keep it in her head long enough to remember it."

  "I tell ye, she wasn't told his name!" Aelfread snapped furiously.

  "Everyone knows his name," Robbie snapped back.

  "Everyone calls him me laird!" Aelfread roared. "And I've no doubt, from all I've heard of this sorry tale, that none of ye fine men thought to introduce him."

  Robbie looked stunned for a moment, then rallied to bluster, "Well, 'tis sure I am, the laird--"

  "Him?" 'Twas Aelfread's turn to snort in derision. "He didn't even bother to mention that they were married until last night." Sighing, she took a deep breath. "She isn't daft, I tell ye. The old witch just said that to keep the laird from marrying her. I've spent many an hour talking with her now and she's as swift of mind as any. And ye'd ken that if ye'd stop thinking so much and start listening."

  Robbie stared at his wee wife blankly as those words registered, then slammed his dagger onto the table. "Well, hell!" he roared in frustration, then rocked to his feet and stomped toward the door. Jerking it open, he froze, eyes wide as he stared at the man standing there, hand raised to knock. "Me laird!"

  Aelfread whirled about at that surprised cry from her husband, her own expression mirroring his as she spied Galen standing in the door. The chief of the MacDonald clan had not set foot in this cottage since the day she had married Robbie. Most of the time Robbie was up at the keep and the laird had no purpose to come to their humble home. It seemed now he did. Ironic, Aelfread decided dryly, for this was the first time she did not feel like offering him a welcome. Grabbing her basket off the shelf, she pushed past the two men without a word and crashed out of the cottage herself.

  Galen tried to get out of the way as Robbie's little wife stormed toward him. He took a hasty step to the side, but there was a small tree stump with an ax in it blocking his path. He nearly tumbled over that stump as Aelfread bumped him on the way by. Only Robbie's hand snaking out to steady him kept him from landing in the dirt along the front of the house.

  "Aelfread!"

  If she heard her husband's enraged roar as she beetled off down the path, she ignored it. Robbie glanced apologetically toward Galen, then ushered him into the cottage. "'Tis sorry I am, me laird. Aelfread has a foul temper when aroused and once her sails are up..." He shook his head. "I fear she thinks little ere acting."

  "Aye...Well." Galen cleared his throat, his gaze shifting around the cottage, hardly taking in what his eyes were seeing. His mind was caught up with the apology he had come to offer. Galen did not like to make apologies. But when he owed one, he gave it, and right now he owed Robbie. His behavior upon discovering Kyla missing had gone beyond the pale. There was no excuse in his mind for shaming one of his men in front of his comrades, and he explained all of that to Robbie now in a rush. The man shook his head at once.

  "Nay, me laird. Ye had every right to yer anger. I let her escape."

  "Aye, but ye are one of my best men. I know ye didn't slacken yer vigilance. 'Sides, 'Twas not all yer fault. She took advantage o' yer concern for her."

  Robbie stopped shaking his head at that and started to listen, so Galen continued, "Any one of the men would have gone below to fetch the old witch had she asked it and Kyla knew that. In truth, she tricked ye."

  They both blinked as those words slipped out, then Robbie began to grin. Despite Aelfread's words, he'd retained some doubt about his new lady's sensibilities. Now it seemed Aelfread may be right. And wasn't that a relief? "Aye, she did, didn't she? Damn me, that isn't the action of a daft woman, now is it?"

  Relief broke across Galen's face in a grin as well as he realized himself that Kyla had shown cleverness and daring in escaping that day.

  "Damn me, Aelfread is right. She isn't soft in the skull."

  Galen smiled and nodded, then sighed and shook his head. "I can tell from Aelfread's leavetaking she isn't pleased with ye, and if 'tis because she heard of me set down earlier I--" He paused at the sudden change in his fri
end's expression.

  Robbie pursed his lips briefly, then met his gaze. "Well, now. I haven't even told her about that yet."

  "Ye haven't?" His surprise was obvious.

  "Nay," he admitted slowly, then paused consideringly before saying, "I be thinking a nice mug of ale would hit the spot just now."

  Galen shook his head. "Thanks, but nay. I couldn't find Tommy and left Angus guarding the door. I must--" His voice ended abruptly as Robbie's massive hand clamped on to his shoulder to direct him toward the table.

  "I be thinking yer really going to be needing this mug, me laird."

  One hour and several mugs of ale later, Galen marched determinedly toward the keep. His mind was near buzzing with all that he had to say to his wife. He repeated it to himself under his breath as he mounted the stairs to the room they shared. Angus greeted him on his arrival and Galen nodded in response, then opened the door and stepped inside--only to pause and gape, everything he wanted to say slipping away as he stared around the empty room.

  "Angus!"

  Only a step away from the door, the man was inside at once, a question on his face that was answered the moment he saw the vacant room. "I haven't left the door since ye posted me there," he said at once.

  Galen's mouth worked briefly, then he shook his head and turned away.

  "She must have been gone ere I arrived," Angus murmured.

  "Aye," Galen muttered grimly.

  "While ye were fetching me, most like."

  "Aye."

  He followed Galen down the stairs, offering quietly, "'Twas clever of her."

  Halting, the MacDonald chief, whirled and bellowed, "Me wife is not daft!"

  "Nay, me laird," Angus agreed at once.

  "Do ye ken the poor lass didn't even ken me name?" The man looked blank and Galen's frown grew. "We didn't even introduce me to her. Her own bloody husband and we didn't even tell her me name!"

  Frowning now, Angus appeared doubtful. "We didn't?"

  "Nay." He scowled at the man. "Do you recall introducing me?"

  "Nay...But everyone knows yer name, me laird."

  "And everyone calls me 'me laird.'"

  "Oh. Aye." Angus looked amazed as he realized the truth of that.

  "She is me wife and mistress here and we are all strangers to her."