CLAIMED BY A HIGHLANDER (THE DOUGLAS LEGACY Book 2) (40 page)

Rory caught the look that passed between the older couple and realized they were trying to give him and Sybil time alone. He was sorely tempted, but he was uneasy about leaving his son.

“I’ll bar the door and keep my sword at hand,” Malcolm assured him, then he leaned closer and said, “Now go make up with your wife while ye have the chance.”

Malcolm’s words were a reminder that one could never know what tomorrow would bring. But tonight, he would have Sybil back in his arms again.

“You’re a wise man,” Rory said, squeezing Malcolm’s shoulder. “No wonder my father made you his chief counselor.”

Rory followed Sybil down the stairs with his heart in his throat, not certain if she had truly forgiven him. When they reached their bedchamber and closed the door, he stood still, aching to touch her, but not knowing if she would have him. He wanted her so much his hands shook.

***

Sybil watched Rory’s chest rise and fall with his ragged breathing.

“I love ye so much,” he said. “Do ye think it possible for ye to ever love me again?”

She felt too choked with emotion to speak at first. She rested her hand over his heart and felt it pounding beneath her palm.

“I’m willing to wait as long as it takes,” he said.

“I never stopped loving you,” she whispered, looking into his eyes. “I never will.”

When she rose on her toes to meet his lips, his kiss was so full of longing it made her heart ache.

“Sybil, I’m so sor—”

“Shhh.” She touched her finger to his lips. “We’ve both made mistakes and hurt each other, and we’ll need to talk it all through. But the night is short, and I want to spend what’s left of it in your arms.”

She took his hand and led him to the bed.

They did not need words tonight. They showed each other their love and forgiveness with every touch, every kiss, every sigh. Tears filled her eyes as she kissed Rory’s battle scars and the new bruises from saving his son, marks of a man willing to risk his life for others.

Though Rory was bound to cause her anguish each time he put his life in danger, she knew how lucky she was to be loved by a man who was brave and honorable to his core.

They made love slowly savoring each moment, as if it might be their last time. As they melded together in a sensuous rhythm, Sybil felt as if their bodies and hearts were one.

Rory held her face between his hands as he moved inside her with excruciating slowness.

When she saw the love in his eyes, she had no doubt that he was hers again.

And she was his. She had been from the start.

They lay wrapped in each other’s arms until dawn, which came all too soon. Rory lifted her chin with his finger to look into her eyes.

“Neither of us has found trust easy,
a chuisle mo chroí
,”
pulse of my heart
, he said. “But if we are to get through this, we must trust each other now.”

“No matter what comes,” Sybil said as she held his face between her hands. “Ye have my heart, always.”

***

After making the grim announcement of Kenneth’s death to the household, Rory rejoined the others upstairs in Kenneth’s chamber.

“You’re sure he’s well enough to travel?” he asked Grizel.

“He’s a strong lad,” she said, mussing Kenneth’s hair. “He’ll do fine so long as he takes it easy.”

Since they’d settled on a plan to take him in a cart covered in a shroud and blanket, that would not be a problem.

“It’ll be fun playing dead,” Kenneth said. “See if I don’t fool them all.”

Rory exchanged a worried look with Sybil. They were not entirely happy with their plan but had not come up with a better one. The cart would make the journey slow, and it would be unseemly to take the body of the Grant chieftain’s grandson without a large escort, which meant Kenneth would have to lie still under the blanket for a long while.

“Your grandfather and Flora will be so happy to see you,” Sybil said, “but we’ll miss you.”

Kenneth’s smile faded. “Am I coming back?”

“Of course ye are,” she said. “Isn’t he, Rory?”

“Aye.” He squeezed Kenneth’s shoulder. “You belong here, son.”

Rory was about to leave to gather the men who would ride with them when someone pounded on the door.

“Open the door!” Alex shouted from the other side. “Hurry!”

When Rory unbarred it, both his brother and sister hurried in, and he shut it behind them.

“I came as quickly as I heard,” Alex said between gasps for breath.

“How did ye hear about Kenneth’s accident so soon?” Rory asked.

“What? The lad’s been hurt?” Alex’s gaze shifted to where Kenneth lay on the bed.

“He’s going to be fine.” Rory gripped his brother’s arm. “What did ye ride here to tell me?”

“I heard a confession this morning from a Gairloch man,” Alex said. “Hector is laying an ambush near Loch Ussie for the Munro chieftain and his guard.”

“Ye must stop them!” Catriona interjected.

“Hector plans to slaughter them,” Alex said. “And ye know the blame will fall on you.”

“Aye.” As chieftain, the actions of his clan were his responsibility. The Munros would believe he either gave the order or should have been able to control his clansmen. Rory cursed his uncle for planning a senseless killing. And for what? To create more enemies for Rory to face.

“Ye can’t let this happen,” his sister said, clinging to his arm. “Ye must do something.”

“I fear it may be too late already,” Alex said.

“Pray it’s not,” Rory said, and grabbed his sword. “I’ll take all the men I can spare from the castle and go at once.”

“What about the Grants? They’ll be on their way to Beauly by now,” Sybil said. “If we fail to meet them with Kenneth, they’re bound to think the worst.”

“The Grants will have to wait,” Rory said. “Malcolm, I leave my wife and son in your care.”

Rory lifted Sybil off her feet and kissed her. And then he was gone.

***

A sense of premonition hung over Sybil like a dark cloud as she stood at the window watching Rory ride out with his men. Of course Rory had to try to prevent the massacre of innocent men. That left the Grants to her.

She drew Malcolm aside. “We need to take Kenneth to Beauly.”

“Ach, lass,” he said, “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“We’ve no other choice,” she said. “If we’re not there, Grant will believe Kenneth is dead. Do ye want him to attack Castle Leod while Rory and half our men are gone?”

“We can’t leave the castle undefended, and we don’t have men to spare to escort a funeral cart.”

“Aye, we need a different plan,” she said. “Rory sneaked me out of my brother-in-law’s castle rolled in a blanket. We can do the same with Kenneth.”

“Rory would never allow you or Kenneth out of the castle without a guard.”

“No one will know it’s me and Kenneth,” she said. “We’ll say Alex was worried about his wife, who’s ready to deliver her babe, and begged ye to take Grizel to her. I’ll dress as a servant and cover my head in a hood.”

“There’s no need for you to go at all,” Malcolm said.

“If his grandson arrives without Rory and with only one man for protection, Grant will be insulted. He’ll believe Rory just wants to be rid of the lad,” she said. “But if I come in disguise and with no guard, he’ll believe our situation was desperate.”

“I don’t like it,” Malcolm said. “It puts both you and the lad at risk.”

“This is where he’s not safe,” she said. “Someone here wants to kill Kenneth.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that ye waited to suggest this until Rory was gone.”

Of course she had. Rory would not have let her take the risk, and she’d have no chance of convincing Malcolm to go against a direct command.

Sybil turned to find Grizel and Catriona behind her, listening in on their conversation.

“The lass is right. We need to get Kenneth away,” Grizel said. “I’ll gather my things and get him ready.”

“What about me?” Catriona asked.

“Stay here and make certain no one comes into this chamber and finds there’s no dead body,” Malcolm said. “And if Rory returns before we do, ye can tell him where we’ve gone.”

“Ach, he’s going to be furious,” Catriona said.

“Beauly is not far,” Malcolm said. “With any luck, we’ll return long before he does.”

In the trunk in their bedchamber, Sybil found the tattered cloak she had worn on the long journey to the Highlands. Luckily, she had been unable to bring herself to throw it away. When she put it on, she was flooded with memories of their journey.

Since their wedding night, they had wasted precious time because they failed to trust each other. Last night had gone a long way toward healing their hearts, but she wished she could leave Rory a message to tell him how much she loved him and to ease his worry for her, in case he returned before she did. If only he could read. With a sigh, she started for the door, then stopped.

Rory knew the pendant from her mother was her most prized possession. She unfastened the clasp from her neck, kissed the stone, and left it on his pillow.

CHAPTER 43

He was too late.

Curan’s sides heaved from the hard gallop to reach this valley to stop the ambush. Rory was filled with rage and sorrow as his gaze traveled over the hillside, which was strewn with the headless corpses of slain Munro warriors.

“Rory,” Alex called up to him from the base of the hill, where there was a natural spring that was well known as a holy well. “Ye need to see this.”

Rory dismounted when he reached Alex, and they walked through the tall grass to the spring. His stomach turned at the sight that greeted him. Heads of the dead Munros had rolled down the hill and filled the spring.

“God forgive us.” He knelt with his brother and made the sign of the cross. “Hector and his men have shamed the MacKenzies this day.”

“As long as there are Munros in Scotland,” Alex said, “this holy well will be remembered for this terrible deed.”

This was a disaster in every possible way. The Munros were favored by the crown, and their young chief was expected to replace his father as the crown’s justiciar for the region. In addition to making the Munros bitter enemies, the unprovoked nature of the attack could bring the wrath of the crown down on them.

And yet the massacre would be hailed by Hector’s followers as a cunning attack that would serve as a warning to the clan’s enemies. Hector fabricated threats, whipped up fear, and presented himself as the great war leader who could protect them.

As Rory looked at the grisly sight in the spring, he felt weighed down by the part he had inadvertently played in this atrocity. Hector had done this not to protect the clan, but to serve his goal of taking the chieftainship from Rory. If he had let Hector have what he wanted, these men would be alive.

He and his men stopped for the night at a tavern in the nearby town of Dingwall. He asked the tavern keeper what he’d heard about the attack.

“One of the Munros fled the battle and made it here to our church seeking sanctuary,” the man said. “Big Duncan of the Axe was chasing him, but he made it inside the church.”

That was one survivor. Rory drank down his ale, intent on heading to the church to speak with him.

“When Big Duncan caught him by the arm inside the church door, the Munro warrior shouted,
Sanctuary saves me! Sanctuary saves me!
”
the tavern keeper continued his tale. “But Big Duncan pulled him back out the door.
You’re not in the church now,
he said, and killed him with one stroke of his axe.”

Rory rubbed his forehead. This just got worse and worse. “Did ye hear if any of the Munros escaped?”

“If they did, they didn’t pass through here.”

Rory prayed the Munro chieftain had survived. He disliked the arrogant young man, but wished him no harm. And as bad as the situation already was, killing their chieftain would lead to all-out war with the Munros.

***

“Where’s my grandfather?” Kenneth looked up at Sybil with Rory’s green eyes, but she had no answer.

“We’ll wait a little longer.” She strained to see the trail into the village through the branches of the trees. Malcolm had insisted they wait in the thick foliage along the river where they would not be seen by a chance traveler.

Perhaps the Grant chieftain was away when the message arrived. She imagined it lying on his table unopened, awaiting his return.

Malcolm pulled her aside. “We’ve waited long enough. They’re not coming.”

“Then we’ll have to take Kenneth to them,” she said. “We’re halfway to Urquhart Castle already.”

“We shouldn’t have come,” Malcolm said. “It’ll be dark soon, and I’ll not take my laird’s wife and son any farther without his approval.”

“But—”

Malcolm held up his hand for quiet and drew his sword.

“What is it?” she whispered.