To Wed A Wicked Highlander bboth-3

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To Wed A Wicked Highlander bboth-3 Page 21

by Victoria Roberts


  She rode hard, fast, and her horse thundered beneath her feet. Tears blinded her and she had to trust her mount to see. Alex’s words replayed in her mind and a stab of guilt lay buried in her chest. She pulled on the reins for her horse to stop and covered her face with her trembling hands, giving vent to the agony of her loss. Her breasts rose and fell under her labored breathing. She took deep breaths until she was strong enough to hold her head up.

  She kicked her mount to continue to the only place where she knew she’d be accepted.

  Kintail.

  * * *

  John called out to the daft lass, but she rode through the gates of Glengarry like the hounds of hell nipped at her heels. He turned and yelled at one of his men.

  “Go after her! Bring her back!”

  One of the guards charged out of the gate after Lady MacDonell, and John shook his head. As they had agreed, the lass went to speak with Alex to tell him about the stone and Lewis. And from the looks of things, John had a fairly good idea of what had happened.

  He found Alex in the first place he looked, sitting behind his father’s desk with a tankard of ale. John closed the door behind him.

  “Already ye are in your cups?”

  “She took the stone.”

  John sat down. “I know. Ye had me follow her, remember?”

  “Where is it?”

  John paused and his eyes narrowed. “Your wife didnae tell ye?”

  Alex sat back and rubbed his hand through his hair. “Of course she didnae. She told me she threw it into the loch.”

  “She did.” Alex was silent for a moment and John sat forward. “What exactly did she tell ye?”

  Alex shrugged. “I did most of the talking. After a while, I could nay longer listen to her lies.”

  “And did your wife tell ye that she loves ye?”

  Alex smirked. “I donna know what she said. If she did say that, it was spoken conveniently after I caught her in another one of her lies.”

  “I want ye to listen to me verra carefully, Alex. I love ye as a brother, but sometimes ye are naught more than a daft fool.”

  Twenty

  Sybella rode into the bailey of her family home. For some reason, the formidable, gray stone castle was not as welcoming as she remembered it being. With not a single tear left within her to cry, she handed her mount to the stable hand and simply walked into the great hall.

  Everyone was seated in time for sup, and they all looked up and spotted her at the same time. She merely stood frozen in the entrance, dirty and defeated, as Colin raced toward her.

  “Ella, what are ye doing here? What has happened?”

  “I’ve come home, Brother.”

  He placed his hand on her shoulder. “Where is the MacDonell?”

  “He doesnae come. ’Tis too late, Colin. He knows everything.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  Colin wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Come in, Ella. I cannae believe ye traveled all this way by yourself.”

  She dropped her lashes quickly to hide the hurt. “I’ve taken one of my husband’s prized mounts. Please have one of the men see the horse returned to Glengarry at once.”

  “Donna worry about that now.”

  Her father approached her. “My dearest daughter, we didnae expect ye. What are ye doing here?”

  She glanced to the end of the table to see that Mary’s expression was one of concern. Sybella lowered her gaze and looked back at her father. “I have come home.” Knowing her anguish peaked to shatter the last shreds of her control, no other words came to mind.

  Mary rose and hugged Sybella. “I have missed ye. Why donna I have a bath drawn for ye, and we will get ye something to eat and drink.” Mary rubbed her hand gently up and down Sybella’s back.

  “Where is the MacDonell? Surely ye didnae come alone. I have arranged for his passage to Lewis,” said her father.

  All Sybella could do was give her sire a blank stare. This was entirely his fault. Because of his machinations, she lost the love of her life. And she found the only place she was welcomed was in her own personal hell, and of course under her father’s roof, which was basically one and the same.

  Colin shook his head. “Nae now, Father. We must take care of Ella.”

  Mary guided Sybella to her chamber and neither one of them spoke. Mary opened the door and Sybella sat down in a trancelike state on her old bed. The men carried in the tub and the steaming buckets of water, and Sybella didn’t even notice they had departed until Mary helped her undress.

  Sybella’s mind was numb as she lowered herself into the tub. Even the warm water didn’t help to soothe her nerves. For once, Mary must have sensed Sybella’s unease because she left her to her own devices—although, the woman showed her concern and returned with a nightrail and a tray of food.

  Mary sat down on the bed and smiled with compassion. “What has happened, Sybella?”

  Her voice broke miserably. “I betrayed my husband.”

  Instead of chastising Sybella like Mary always did, Sybella’s cousin-by-marriage merely sat and listened. In truth, Sybella needed a friend, or at least one person who did not judge her. She’d forgotten what that felt like.

  “Do ye know our clan has a seer?” asked Sybella, her voice sounding distant.

  Mary’s mouth dropped open. “A seer? Nay. Who?”

  Sybella shrugged. “I donna know.”

  “What does this have to do…How did ye betray the MacDonell?”

  Sybella rubbed her hands over her face. “Several years ago when Alexander’s father burnt our church, he stole our seer’s sacred stone. This seer apparently could foretell the future with this stone, and the last he foretold was Father’s success on Lewis.”

  Mary stared wordlessly.

  “Father and Colin knew Alexander’s father held the stone, and when the MacDonell died, Father arranged for me to wed Alexander. But what Alexander thought to be an alliance formed between MacKenzies and MacDonells was naught more than another MacKenzie scheme to steal back the stone.”

  Sybella rubbed the wet cloth up and down her arm.

  “Father’s man shot an arrow aimed for my head so that Alexander would keep me within the walls of Glengarry to search for the stone. When I took too long to find it, Father’s man tried to kill my husband. The man was captured and wore the MacLeod tartan to make it look like the MacLeod was responsible. At any rate, Alexander was to travel to Lewis to kill the MacLeod because of Father. Now my husband knows all and I betrayed him.”

  “Sybella, I cannae believe what ye speak is true. How could your father do this? How could your father expect ye to do this? The MacDonell is your husband.”

  “Alexander nay longer cares what becomes of me. I am only another deceitful MacKenzie in his eyes.”

  Mary knelt beside the tub and touched Sybella’s shoulder. “I donna know what to say.”

  “There is naught left to say. I am home where I belong. I deserve my fate.” Sybella rose from the tub and grabbed the drying cloth. She donned her nightrail and took a sip of mulled wine from the tray that Mary had brought.

  Sybella raised her eyes to find Mary watching her.

  “Praise the saints. Ye love him.”

  “It doesnae matter. I mean naught to him.”

  Mary wrapped her arms around Sybella. “All this time and ye finally found love. Tha mi duilich.”I am sorry.

  Sybella’s head was bowed into Mary’s shoulder, her body bent over in despair. Again, she was assaulted by her sick yearning for the husband who no longer wanted her and who could never love her.

  She was nothing.

  Nothing but a MacKenzie.

  * * *

  “If what ye say is true, why wouldn’t she tell me?” Alex continued to pace in his study.

  John smirked. “Hell, did ye even give the lass a chance? Ye barely let her speak and were verra quick to judge.”

  “I need to go after her.”

  “I sent one of my men and he should be back by
now. Let’s go to the bailey and see if he returned with your wife.”

  Alex and John were walking out into the bailey as the rider dismounted from his horse. The rest of Alex’s men stood around, preparing to travel to Lewis.

  The guard approached them, shaking his head. “Lady MacDonell had too much of a start. Her horse was too fast. I lost her.”

  “Damn. Which direction was she headed?” asked Alex with concern.

  “Toward Kintail.”

  Alex ran his hand through his hair. “God’s teeth. This is naught short of a disaster. Mount up. We ride to Kintail.”

  “I shall be here when ye return. Donna worry about Sybella.”

  Alex turned around to see MacGregor standing with Rosalia. “I donna have time to explain, but I donna travel to Lewis. We take our leave to Kintail to bring back my wife.”

  Rosalia’s eyes widened. “Kintail? When did Sybella leave for Kintail?”

  Alex felt guilty enough. He didn’t need his cousin placing a dagger through his cold heart.

  “Do ye want me to come with ye?” asked MacGregor.

  “Nay, if ye could stay here and keep an eye on Aunt—”

  “Nay worries.” MacGregor slapped him on the shoulder. “Bring back the stone in one piece.”

  “I could care less about the stone. I will bring back my wife.”

  MacGregor’s only response was an approving smile. “I told ye she loved ye.”

  “What are ye two talking about?” asked Rosalia.

  MacGregor draped his arm across his wife’s shoulders and led her away.

  Since the men were already prepared to travel to Lewis, they didn’t need long to be ready to ride. Alex probably didn’t need to take as many men as he was, but he would rather have too many by his side than not enough, especially because he didn’t know what he would face when he met up with the MacKenzie.

  The bastard was ruthless, using Sybella to do his bidding. Not only did the man have someone try to kill Alex, but the fool had someone take a shot at Sybella—his own daughter. What if the archer would’ve hit her?

  The men mounted up and thundered out the gate. With a score of his best men, Alex pushed his mount faster. Fire fueled his veins and his eyes were dark, dazzling with fury. And to think he was supposed to travel to Lewis to take the MacLeod’s head. He only knew one thing for certain.

  He would come back to Glengarry with his wife by his side and return with a head that was not the MacLeod.

  * * *

  Sybella’s bedchamber door opened and she sighed. “Mary, I donna really want to talk to ye right now.”

  “Well then, mayhap ye will speak with me.”

  She jolted upright. “Father.” He closed the door and Sybella rose from the bed, wrapping a blanket around her.

  He walked over to the sitting area and sat down in a chair. “Please, join me.”

  Sybella reluctantly sat down and faced her father, his arm resting casually on the table.

  “Where is my stone, Daughter?” A sudden chill hung on the edge of his words.

  She shot him a cold look. “Where is your bloody stone? Ye donna ask if I’m all right. Your archer took aim at me in the forest, and then your man tried to kill my husband. Ye blame the attempt on the MacLeod and then try to have my husband do your bidding. ‘I need ye to gain your husband’s trust and be a dutiful wife. That is all I ask of ye.’ How dare ye! Ye used me to get your precious stone and still planned on harming Alexander. I am your only daughter. Why, Father? I demand to know why.”

  Her sire had the nerve to chuckle in response. “Ye know naught of politics, Daughter. The MacDonell was naught but a thorn in my arse for years. If ye want the truth, I’ll give it to ye. The truth is that I was going to marry ye off to the MacLeod in order to stay in His Majesty’s favor. The truth is that Colin had a better idea to wed ye to the MacDonell so that ye could bring back our stone. The truth is that ye are merely a woman and what ye think doesnae matter in the ways of politics. Now I ask ye again, Sybella. Where is my stone?”

  Her voice was cold and lashing, and she mocked his tone. “The truth is, Father, that your precious stone is gone—forever out of your grasp.”

  “I donna have time for your foolish behavior. Ye were always a willful child. Howbeit ye are a clever MacKenzie. Even if the MacDonell discovered what ye were about, ye would’ve still taken the stone and preserved what is ours. Now where is it?”

  “I donna have it.”

  He grabbed her forcefully by the arms. “The last Ennis predicted was Lewis. I need to give him that stone, Sybella.”

  “Ennis? Anabel’s father is your seer?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I will nae ask ye again.”

  “Then I will only need to respond once. ’Tis sleeping in the cold depths of the loch where it waits for your cold, black heart.”

  His eyes darkened. “Enter!” Two of her father’s guards opened her bedchamber door. “Take her.” Each man grabbed Sybella by the arm and started to lead her out the door. Her father’s voice was soulless. “I know ye have the stone. Until ye come to your senses and give it to me, ye can sit—”

  She whipped her head around. Shock and anger lit up her eyes as she faced him. “In the dungeon? Ye would place me in the dungeon for a rock?”

  “That stone is our clan’s future. Ye, my dear, are nae. What kind of father would I be to place ye in the dungeon? Throw her in the pit.”

  She paled.

  In the middle of the night, she walked through the darkened halls in her bare feet dressed in nothing more than a nightrail and a blanket. She shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. The pit was where her father threw the most unsavory of men…until they died. Their faint screams could sometimes be heard from the kitchens. Perhaps her father only had the men escort her to frighten her. Of course, that was it because her sire would never treat her this way. He couldn’t. She was his daughter. The daughter of the MacKenzie laird. A lady.

  Sybella quickly pushed back the thought when they descended the cold, damp stairs. The smell overwhelmed her senses, reeking of bodily excrement and making her gag. The guard reached down and lifted the gate from the floor while the other lowered a ladder. They forced her to climb down.

  She took one step and tears welled in her eyes. “Please donna do this. I beg ye.”

  “We donna question our laird’s command. Please climb down, m’lady.”

  With no choice but to descend into the devil’s dungeon, she reached the bottom and the men lifted the ladder. The gate locked over her head and she was embraced by darkness. Muck of unknown origin squeezed between her toes and when she tried to step, she slid and fell into something thick and wet.

  She screamed.

  The hole was dark and foreboding, and she felt a wretchedness she’d never known before. A raw and primitive grief overwhelmed her. She pulled herself to her feet, and when she slid again on the slimy floor, she sat down.

  Sybella felt something move on her lap. She reached down and grabbed a ball of wiry fur, whipping it away from her body. Dear God, her father left her alone with the rats. She gulped hard, hot tears slipping down her cheeks. Perhaps Mary or Colin would hear her.

  “Please help me! Please help me! I’m here! I’m here!” she screamed. “Mary! Colin! Help me! Let me out!” When she heard no response, she bellowed, “Mo mhallachd ort!” My curse on you!

  When cursing her father didn’t work, Sybella’s tears choked her. Her throat was raw from her screams of terror, her teeth chattered, and her body trembled. A sensation of intense sickness and desolation swept over her.

  She jumped.

  “Where is the stone, Sybella?” Her father’s voice echoed from above. “Tell me where ’tis and I’ll lower the ladder.”

  “Cha leig thu leas.” Don’t bother.

  “Ella, stop this madness and tell me.”

  “I told ye. The stone is at the bottom of the loch.”

  “Why must ye be difficult? Ye are so much like your mot
her.”

  “Thank ye.”

  “I give ye fair warning. Ye arenae coming out of there until ye give me the stone.”

  “Ye will ne’er destroy Alexander! Ye are naught but a mhic an dhiadhail!” Son of the devil.

  His voice hardened. “Then ye can sit in the bowels of hell.”

  Sybella shouted in a mix of anger and fear. She was furious at her vulnerability to him. Alex and John were right. Her father was a horrible man. As she sat in her darkened prison, she knew her only hope was if Mary or Colin would hear her. She would scream until she had no more voice left to give.

  * * *

  Colin was sitting down to break his fast when Mary walked into the great hall. She took her seat and was quiet, withdrawn. She seemed worried. Angus leaned over and whispered something in her ear.

  “Madainn mhath,” Colin said to her. Good morning. “Have ye checked on Ella this morn?”

  Mary’s eyes clung to his, analyzing his reaction. “Is it true then? Did ye do all of that to your own sister?”

  “Wife,” Angus warned.

  For the first time in his life, Colin saw Mary blatantly ignore her husband. “I asked ye a question.”

  “Ye donna understand,” said Colin.

  “And what part do I nae understand?”

  “Mary,” said Angus in a firm tone.

  “Donna ‘Mary’ me, Angus.” She turned and her eyes narrowed at Colin. “Ye placed Sybella in a situation she couldnae possibly win. Ye asked her to choose her clan over the man she loves. Nay woman could be expected to make such a choice, a sacrifice.”

  His eyes widened. “She loves him?”

  “Is that so hard for ye to believe?”

  There was a heavy moment of silence.

  “Have ye checked on Ella this morn?” he repeated.

  “Have ye?”

  “That is enough, Wife.”

  She pushed away her trencher and stood. “It seems I’ve lost my appetite. Pray excuse me.”

  Colin watched Mary storm out of the great hall with Angus nipping at her heels. In truth, Colin shared Mary’s opinion. He was disappointed in the man he’d become. Beyond trying to protect Sybella from the MacLeod, he realized he should’ve been protecting her against her own clan. He wondered when he’d lost sight of the difference between right and wrong.

 

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