Highland Fire (Guardians of the Stone) (19 page)

Lìli wanted to be certain there was nothing more she could do. The wedding preparations could wait if Duncan should need her. And yet, even the thought of what was to come—after the hand fasting—couldn’t make her hope for less than a full recovery for the child. Still, she at least hoped to linger awhile. Despite that Sorcha’s excitement was catching, and it heartened her to have so many womenfolk joining their party, her heart was not in this celebration. Her stomach roiled at the thought of seeing Aidan again and her nerves prickled and grew more taut as time passed. Soon, they would find themselves alone, and how could she give her body to a man and not her heart?

Glenna nodded, but she seemed to hesitate a moment. Finally, she pushed open her door to invite her in. “Certainly. Ye are welcome here always.”

Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was windblown, but she was lovelier for the smile that lit her bonny face. The sight of it took Aidan by surprise, for it was the first such smile he had ever seen upon Lìli’s lips.

He couldn’t help but wonder whether he could inspire such a miraculous thing, for he would see her smile often... if their marriage be true.

Doubt was a cloak about his shoulders.

He had remained tense all day, and felt a need to work it out with the cabers, except that there was far too much to be done to ensure his people would remain safe tonight.

Could this woman truly be a catalyst for peace?

He wanted to believe it.

Through the open door, belatedly he spied half the village lassies waiting outside Glenna’s door, and he blinked in surprise. Either Sorcha was as much a sorceress as Una, or his bride was an enchantress as well, for it seemed to him that she had won over two score or more. Ach, the way she was going, she would soon have the entire village under her spell. He decided the work must be Sorcha’s, for his youngest sister could be impetuous and full of joy. Hers was a force not to be denied—which was curious for unbeknownst to both, they shared the same blood.

“L-laird,” she stammered, seeming to start at the sight of him.

Aidan smiled grimly, for she still could not seem to say his name.

Lìli’s heart stopped.

In that moment, it seemed all others fell away and she was aware of no one but him. His presence was palpable in the little cottage. The way he was looking at her practically stole her breath away.

On purpose, she had left his plaid in his room, preferring shivers to his cloak. For these final hours, she had not wished to be reminded that she was to be his, but his gaze possessed her nonetheless.

His shoulder-length hair seemed darker in the light of Glenna’s cottage, and the breadth of his shoulders seemed to stretch the length of the room—which was perfectly ridiculous, for he was a man, not a giant.

“I dinna realize ye would be here,” she said awkwardly. “I merely wished to see Duncan.”

“These are my kinsmen,” he reminded her. “Every last woman and child are my concern.”

Outside, the tittering and chatter ceased abruptly at the deep tenor of his voice—as though suddenly guilt swept over the lot of them for having enjoyed themselves in her presence.

“Of course.”

His eyes skewered her, and she had the immediate impression that he regretted their arrangement. Uncomfortable with his scrutiny, she averted her gaze to the bed, where Duncan sat atop the covers nibbling on a slice of white cheese.

Glenna rushed to his side. “Do ye remember, Lìli?” she asked.

The boy nodded and said politely, “Thank you.”

Lìli gave the child a tentative smile. “You’re so verra welcome, Duncan. I have a son about your age,” she told him.

The boy nodded. His brown eyes were indeed the color of her son’s. “My minny said so. Will ye bring him here to live as well?”

The simple question strangled Lìli’s voice. For an instant, she could not respond. As she understood it, Kellen would never see this place, for once Aidan was dead, she would be free to leave—if his people didn’t kill her for her betrayal. She nodded nonetheless, avoiding Aidan’s gaze. “Ye would like him?” she said. “He reminds me a bit o’ ye.”

The boy smiled and took another bite of his cheese. He held up the tiny sliver that was left, showing it to her. “D’ ye see what the faeries left me?”

Sorcha marched over to the bed. “Ach! ’Tis but a sliver of auld Morag’s cheese!” the girl pointed out. “If a faerie left that, she stole it from—”

“Sorcha!” Aidan interrupted, his voice like thunder in the little room.

The room fell silent, and all eyes save Lìli’s averted to Aidan.

He stepped forward, standing so close behind Lìli that she could feel his body’s heat through her dress. “If it pleases Dunc to think so, who are we to disagree?”

Sorcha gave her brother a questioning glance and whatever silent message he gave her kept her lips sealed though her brow furrowed.

“We’ve come tae see if Glenna would like to help prepare the bride,” Cailin offered. She stepped forward, pulling her youngest sister back away from Duncan’s bedside. She bent to whisper something into Sorcha’s ear, something Lìli could not hear, which caused Sorcha to give Lìli a wary glance—the first such look from Sorcha since Lìli’s arrival. Sorcha nodded imperceptibly, and Lìli had the oddest sense they were keeping something from her then. But then again … there was likely much these people would not say until they knew her far better.

Wholly aware of the man at her back, Lìli met Glenna’s gaze. “Would ye come?”

“If ye would enjoy it,” Aidan suggested, “I’ll stay with Dunc for awhile.”

“Ach, nay! I dinna need a nursemaid!” Duncan protested. “I am already eight!”

Duncan did seem well enough, and Lìli so wanted Glenna to come along. Sorcha was young, Cailin still a bit tentative, Aveline was a mute, and Glenna was the first female friend Lìli had ever had. However, it surprised her that Aidan would offer to sit with the boy himself.

“Well,” Glenna said hesitantly. She looked toward Aidan. He nodded encouragement, and she relented, “Verra well.” She smiled then, and dashed to one corner of the cottage, retrieving a blanket and racing past Aidan. Lìli followed her out, but not before turning and sparing Aidan a final glance, but it was a mistake, for the look in his eyes made her heart skip its natural beat.

“Come now,” Sorcha demanded, seizing Lìli once more by the hand.

To Lìli’s dismay, her feet seemed not to want to move, and she nearly tumbled onto her face as Sorcha pulled her out the door.

Aidan watched them go.

In that instant while their gazes held, Aidan spied far more than he would have liked to see. He saw a lonely woman, who despite everything, craved to be accepted by his people. She might fear him, in truth, but the look in her eyes as she’d invited Glenna to come along reminded him of a little girl who had no friends.

Ach, but he was drawn to her in a way he had never been drawn to any woman before, and wanted to take her under his arm and love and protect her. But these were things he could not afford to feel.

Not yet.

Mayhap never.

He watched them go, torn between what his heart and head were saying.

D
id they truly believe he could not see the lout standing guard?

Rogan was not stupid. He realized Lìli was weak. If he could accomplish his work for David without her, there would be no need to leave her here amongst these barbarians. He had not missed the way Aidan dún Scoti looked at her. Like all the rest, he coveted her in his bed and it rankled—more because she seemed to welcome his attention.

It gnawed at his gut to think of her lying prostrate beneath the hulking savage, purring for his cock—not that Rogan thought she had the first inkling how to please a man. She was a cold bitch. Every time he tried to embrace her, she recoiled from him, and the look on her face made his stomach roil. The bitch believed she was better than he was—she, a woman cursed, considered herself worthy of a better man! What effrontery!

But Rogan had her son... that was at least some reassurance Lìli would complete the task they had set before her. As a worst case scenario, he would leave her here to do her work as planned, though he must make certain Aveline knew her duty and continued to remind Lìli about the dangers to her son should she fail.

And yet, if he could save her the trouble... King David would no doubt thank him all the more, for despite that David was far too righteous to confess his desire to see them all dead, he would hardly mourn their loss. Had he not sanctioned this plan to begin with? Aye, and David understood precisely where that path led, no matter that he did not voice it. The King was desperate. He wanted Aidan’s tribe smitten from the face of the earth, for while they might not call themselves Scots, the Highlanders counted them among the noblest of clans, and nearly every king since Aed had tried to woo them to no avail... and then sought to see them dead when it was clear the dún Scoti would never bend their knees.

Rogan contemplated that fact as he stood and watched the barbaric hoards compete with trunks of trees upside their backs, pitching them like children pissing off a cliff.

He glanced at his own men, standing near the priest—one more delicate than the next. It had been planned that way apurpose, to help set the dún Scoti chieftain at ease, for who could count a single one of these bastards to be a threat? They sickened him. And the priest was the worst of the lot, for he sat there crossing himself continuously and counting his rosary as though prayers alone could save him from the wrath of the dún Scoti.

Nay, but it would take wits not brawn to defeat dún Scoti. In his time of greatest glory, Padruig had come here like a hammer, considering himself such a force that there was no chance the dún Scoti could survive him... and yet they had. Indeed, they had thrived, which only made Rogan reconsider his tack.

His gaze reverted to the boy called Keane.

The lad stood among the competitors on the field, his shoulders puffed with the pride of youth. Until Lìli produced a child, the boy was Aidan’s heir. Mayhap that was where he should target his efforts? When the elder dún Scoti chieftain had been slain along with half his kinsmen, Aidan had survived to see them prosper.

Aye, if Lìli could do her worst here... mayhap he was better served by killing Keane, for with the lad dead, there would be none left save women to lead these mountain folk... and who the hell would follow a stupid woman?

In the distance, he spied the procession of ladies heading toward the shore of the loch and his cock stirred, for he knew Lìli would be among them.

She had already begun to work her sorcery here, it seemed, nursing some child back from the brink of death. Ach, if there was any witchery to her at all, it was that knack she had for healing. Aye, but that was yet another fortuitous affair, for it seemed there was some mysterious malady plaguing these people. Mayhap with very little effort, they would see the end of their days … with a bit of help.

His gaze returned to Aidan’s arrogant little brother.

If he could not kill Aidan himself... mayhap he could still find a way to undermine the clan...

As though the Mother of Winter herself had inspired the Highland mists, holding back the approach of wintertide yet one more day, the morning’s fog retreated into the belly of the mountain, leaving a carpet of green sprawled before a late summer sun. The sound of laughter murmured through the rowan trees and a gentle breeze shimmied the leaves.

Hope rose like a second sun, brightening the mood, and Lìli allowed herself a moment to pretend she was a bride for the first time, free of the sins of her father and her duty to the crown. It was easy to do with these joyful people.

The women led her to a secret place along the loch where the bluffs rose high alongside it, and there, cascading into a small pool, she discovered a spectacular waterfall. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, and she stood, mouth agape, marveling at the sight, while every last woman in their gathering undressed and tossed aside her gown. One by one they dove, naked, into the crystalline pool, screeching over the cold, though hardly fazed enough to keep them dry.