Angel of Skye (39 page)

“I will never forget that, my love. I never will.” Alec’s mouth took hers in a kiss that promised fulfillment, trust, faith, and most of all, eternal love.

Moments later, when they pulled apart, Fiona knew that it was now her turn to trust Alec with what she knew, with what she suspected. Neither could afford to have anything between them. She had to trust him.

So she told him what she’d learned listening to Kathryn and Neil in the mill. She told him Torquil MacLeod’s men—with Neil among them—had murdered her mother.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Alec said thoughtfully. “I don’t understand the connection between Torquil and your mother. He was an evil man, but he had no brain of his own. I have a difficult time believing that he could plan and execute such a crime, one that could go unresolved for so many years.”

“I think you’re right about that, Alec, but I remember Torquil being there in the room. He was the one who had his men take me away. And all these years, living on the same island, we never came face to face. Because of the prioress, I never saw him and I never saw Neil until that day by Father Jack’s hut.”

“You were very fortunate,” Alec said, thinking over the danger that she’d been so close to for so many years. “Your memory may have been gone for the time being, but if Torquil had ever laid eyes on you, he would made certain you would never remember.”

“You mean he would have silenced me, the way he silenced my mother.”

Alec considered the information Fiona had relayed to him. There was still something not right. An important piece of this puzzle was missing.

“This morning in their talk, was anything said about someone else? You said that Neil was being paid by someone else.”

“Aye, but I don’t know who for certain. Neil didn’t name him. And later, Kathryn swore that she didn’t know, either.”

“And you believe what she said?”

“Considering the size of the gash I put in her face, I’d say she had no choice but to speak the truth.”

Alec laughed heartily as he gathered his little warrior in his arms. “Is this the same woman who, on the day that I offered her the dirk, shrank away from me, saying that she would never be able to use it on another human being?”

She looked up into his proud, deep blue eyes. “I’m the same woman, Alec. The emphasis was on ‘human being.’ I don’t believe real human beings are capable of doing what some of the things these creatures do to others.”

He pushed back the loose tendril of hair from her beautiful face and pulled her up higher on his lap. “You’re right, my love. Certainly no one you’ve faced has been worthy of the name.”

She had to tell him. She knew she had to tell him about Huntly. She had to have faith and trust him.

“Alec, there is something that...”

“What is it, Fiona?” He could sense she felt uncomfortable about whatever she was trying to tell him.

“That night at Drummond Castle, before I was taken away...” she took a deep breath. She had to tell the events as they happened. She could not mold the facts to suit her own accusatory feelings about Huntly. She wanted Alec reach the same conclusion on his own. “My mother’s knight, Sir Allan...”

“Tell me, Fiona. What is it that you remember?”

“He came to my mother while I was with her. He said that Lord Andrew was downstairs. Alec, my mother wanted her knight to take me away from that man. I could tell she was afraid of him.”

Fiona could see Alec’s face grow dark as he considered this information.

“So this Andrew could still be the one behind all this.”

“You see it, too, don’t you?” she exclaimed. “It is possible, isn’t it, that this same man, who ordered my mother’s death so many years ago, now is ordering mine? He must be getting quite nervous that his dark, buried secret is about to be revealed!”

Alec shot a look at Fiona. There had been the attack on her at Skye. Then the mercenary pirates. And now this. There was truth in what she was saying. “Whoever this Andrew is,” Alec mused, “he is persistent. But you never saw him, did you? You couldn’t identify him?”

“I don’t have to see him to know who he is.”

“You know his identity?” Alec asked, taken aback by her words. Fiona’s tone said she had known for a long time.

Fiona looked Alec straight in the eye as she spoke the earl’s name.

“It can’t be, Fiona. It absolutely cannot be.”

She punched her fist into his chest as she looked up in his expression of denial.

“Why can’t it be, Alec? Look at the facts. And be fair. Who else would have objected to my parent’s marriage?”

“The whole country, at that time, Fiona,” Alec argued. “Huntly loved your mother. He would never have hurt her for any reason—in this world or the next.”

“But you are talking about a man about to lose her. He was about to lose her for good.”

“He had already lost her, Fiona. He’d lost her five years earlier, when she bore the king’s child.” Alec held Fiona’s face in his hand. “Fiona, when you were lost—when your mother’s body was found—he was more upset than the king himself. Months later, when the king gave up the search, Huntly kept on. Fiona, despite what he presents on the outside, he is a man with feelings. He is a man of honor.”

“Then what about the name? Lord Andrew. Sir Allan said there was a man named Andrew downstairs.”

“Fiona, you know as well as I, every family in Scotland has a son named Andrew. Probably half of the Lowland nobles in the court at that time were named Andrew. Your own uncle, Lord Gray, is named Andrew.”

She went silent in his arms.

“Have you thought, Fiona, that maybe your own uncle is the one behind all this? He’s the one who has the most to lose now that you’ve been found alive. He’s the one who has assumed stewardship of your land and wealth after your grandfather’s death. Now he has to give everything up.”

“Alec, we’re talking about fourteen years ago. He had no motive back then to hurt my mother, did he? My grandfather was still alive. My mother had sisters who were still living. He was in no position to gain anything by hurting her.”

“True. But by the same token, why should Lord Huntly want to hurt you today? You have no proof of any guilt on his part.”

“I think I do, Alec.”

“You do?” he asked, holding her by the shoulder, looking into her eyes.

“Aye. A packet. A leather pouch I saw my mother hide away in my room in Drummond Castle. The night she was killed. She said to show the contents of that pouch to my father. That he would then punish the evil men who had come that night.”

Fiona felt a knot form tightly in her throat. As Alec’s arm moved around her, she could feel her mother’s arm around her. A tear spilled from her eye and trickled down her cheek. She could see her mother pointing. Five stones from the fireplace. Five. She wondered if the proof still lay there after so many years. The filthy animals.

“The only problem is that I’m not certain that...”

“You are afraid that the pouch has already been discovered?” he asked gently.

She nodded in response.

“But there is only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

“You’ll take me to Drummond Castle?”

Alec reached with his hand and brushed away the single tear glistening on her cheek. “I’ll take you there. But first thing’s first. We’ll have to be married. Huntly told my father that your uncle is already arranging suitable marriages for you.”

“He can’t!” she blurted, turning to look into his face. “I’m to marry you. He can do no such thing.”

“You’ll get to know him soon enough, my love. He is not one to understand matters of the heart. I suppose that’s where Kathryn learned her perspective on life.”

“Then we’ll marry before we go to Drummond.”

Coming around a bend in the river, Fiona could see the walls of Benmore Castle rising across the river in the distance.

“The village is just ahead beyond the next grove of trees,” Alec told her. Raising his voice, he ordered his men to ride on ahead. “Fiona, do we have to invite him to our wedding?”

As she turned her face to answer him, his mouth captured hers so quickly that she had no chance to escape. He’d only intended to kiss her lightly, to assure her cooperation, but her response to him took him off guard.

Her hands threaded into his hair, pulling his head lower as her soft mouth opened to the pressure of Alec’s searching tongue. They kissed deeply, intimately, reaffirming the passion and hunger they felt for one another.

“You’re very persuasive,” she cooed as they gently broke off their intimacy.

“Good,” he responded, running his hand over her full breast, inside the concealing cloak. “But this is only the beginning.”

For as thou came so shall thou pass.

Like a shadow in a glass...

—William Dunbar “
Momento Homo quod cinis es
”

When they told her that Celia Muir Campbell, Lady Argyll, was in the castle and looking forward to meeting her, Fiona nearly died. After all, she’d heard from the arriving guests that this was the woman who had spirited the infant King James across Scotland and into the safekeeping of Colin Campbell, Alec’s best friend. She was a woman acclaimed by the world, a woman of courage, beauty, and wit.

Fiona looked ruefully at her image in the window. Her wild mane of red hair was once again out of control. She tucked back the tendrils of curls that had escaped their confining braid and ran her hands down her skirts, trying to straighten the folds. “It’s time, Fiona,” she whispered to her image. “There’s no point in keeping the lady waiting.”

Fiona closed the heavy oak door of her room and trudged down the stone hallway. Clair had brought the message that Lord Alec and Lord Colin were downstairs with the rest of the guests, but that Lady Celia was still in her chamber and hoping they might meet there.

As Fiona reached the door to Lord and Lady Campbell’s chamber, a flush of uncertainty raced through her. She had already found out that Alec was well loved by this family, so more than anything else, she didn’t want to be a disappointment. “Get on with it, Fiona,” she murmured to herself. “Get on with it!”

At the sound of the gentle knock on the door, Celia pulled the shawl gently over her shoulder and covered the head of her suckling daughter. “Please come in,” she called softly, trying not to disturb the nearly sleeping child.

She watched as the door gently moved on its soft hinges and opened to reveal the young woman standing beyond.

“You must be Lady Fiona,” she whispered, looking at the angelic figure standing hesitantly in the hall.

Fiona stood feeling awkward and speechless. She had not expected the scene before her. There in the corner of the room by the window, a dark-haired beauty—no older than Fiona herself—sat clad in a simple white dress, a babe nestled comfortably in her lap. Fiona gazed at the peaceful image of the mother and her child and knew, at that very instant, she was going to like Lady Celia Muir Campbell immensely.

Two days later and two hours before the midday ceremony, Fiona and Celia hugged each other fiercely as they prepared for the joyous trek to the little church in the village.

“Ready with plenty of time to spare,” Fiona whispered excitedly.

“You look absolutely stunning, my radiant friend,” Celia whispered in awe, moving behind her as Fiona took a last look in the mirror. “You will knock Alec right off his feet.”

“You mean the same way as you knocked him on his backside the first time you two met?” Fiona asked, recalling Colin’s story of Celia and Alec’s first encounter.

Exchanging a conspiratorial look, the two began to laugh in unison. Fiona and Celia had been inseparable since the first day they’d met. They’d been spending most of their time in Fiona’s chamber, due to the Highland custom that mandated bride and groom be kept apart until the wedding ceremony. But that hadn’t stopped the earl of Argyll from coming and visiting with his wife every hour on the hour.

It was a constant source of wonder for Fiona, watching the love that those two shared with each other. And it had not taken long for her to realize what special people her new friends were.

Sitting together that first day, the two women felt at ease from the very moment Fiona stepped into Celia’s chamber. Neither knew who took the first step or who raised a welcoming hand to the other. All that mattered was that they immediately felt like old acquaintances. Like long-lost friends who had at last found one another. And then the hours flew by as they chatted comfortably.

At last they became aware that they’d completely lost track of the time. Celia went to the crib to check her sleeping baby when a soft knock sent Fiona to the door as the heavy oak began to swing open. Stepping in front of the open door, Fiona confronted a black-haired giant, his face fierce and warlike, filling the door frame. Moving forward with a hand raised combatively toward his chest, Fiona asked the man to state his business. A deep chuckle rumbled from the giant’s chest at the sight of the red-haired beauty holding him off, before he looked hopefully past her at the approaching Celia.

“It’s all right, Fiona,” Celia said, taking her blushing friend by the arm. “He’s with me. And you might as well let him in—he’ll just break down the door.”

“She doesn’t just look like her father, she acts like him, too,” the earl of Argyll said to his wife with an amused chuckle and kissing her soundly. “Alec is boring me to death. I’ve missed you.”

Celia’s pull on his arms finally made Colin end the embrace and turn in the direction of the young woman. But he still kept an arm protectively about his wife.

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Fiona Drummond Stuart. I’m Colin, the man my wife and daughter keep around for entertainment. And I’m happy for the work,” he whispered confidentially, “being a bit big as far as jesters go.”

Sitting back down, the three of them enjoyed a very cordial afternoon of talking and laughing, and Fiona learned a great deal—serious and otherwise—about her beloved. The stories that Celia and Colin shared with her about Alec were both fascinating and amusing to hear. Colin and Alec had been best friends for their entire lives, so, needless to say, Colin Campbell had a fistful of warning tales about Alec that he was just dying to relate to Fiona.