Highland Moonlight (30 page)

to the castle. There has not been anymore trouble, but I will not risk going

further a field.”

She nodded. Her nose and cheeks were already red from the cold, but

her blue eyes sparkled with excitement, and she flashed him a smile.

They rode along the uneven path uphill to the village. The smell of

baking bread mingled with the aroma other foods on the cold air. The day

was too chilly to encourage outside activity and few of the villagers were

about. Snow, dusted with the soot of peat fires, lay heavy on the rooftops of

the dwellings and shops. Patches of ice scattered across the rock-strewn

path made the horses footing uncertain and they picked their way cautiously

over the terrain.

“Lord Campbell,” a voice shouted from above the tavern drawing their

attention to one of the shuttered windows opened on the second floor of the

dwelling. The man’s bald head popped out like the cork from a bottle.

“Would you bring your lady in to warm herself and share a cup with us?” he

invited.

Alexander waved. “Aye, I will.” He urged his mount toward the railing

before the structure.

“We just began, Alexander,” Mary said in a soft tone as he dismounted

and reached up to help her down.

“Aye, ‘tis important for you to meet some of the clan face to face,” he

explained. “Sharing a meal or a hot drink can go a long way in winning them

over, Mary.”

She dropped her gaze, but not before he saw a flash of uncertainty in

her expression. A young boy came out to take charge of their mounts,

preventing him from offering her reassurance.

The room, permeated with the smell of ale, bread, and roasting meat,

harbored an atmosphere of warmth and welcome. There were more people

about than he had expected so early in the day.

The proprietor and his wife stepped forward from the crowd to greet

them. “Mary, this is Akira and Callum, he introduced the two.”

“‘Tis honored we are to welcome you, your Ladyship,” Callum said as

he offered them a seat at one of the biggest tables. He wiped his bald brow

with the sleeve of his shirt. “‘Twas a generous thing you and the Laird did

for the wee ones of the village.”

“‘Twas a custom of my MacPherson kin to see the little ones had a gift

from the Laird, every Christmas Tide. Alexander and I wished to continue

the custom here at Gleann Sith,” Mary answered with a smile, her gaze

swinging to Alexander’s face.

Surprised, for he had known nothing about it, Alexander’s studied her

for a moment before he returned his attention to the innkeeper. “There were

none neglected, were there Callum?” he asked.

“Nay, m’lord,” the man shook his head. “Her ladyship saw to it.”

Alexander leaned back in his chair and watched as soft color tinged

Mary’s cheeks and she focused her attention on the wooden cup of mulled

wine Akira set before her. “‘Twas offered in honor of our own bairn due

about May Day or there abouts, Callum,” he announced, aware that all who

were present listened to their conversation.

“I had heard her ladyship was bairned. ‘Tis a grand happening, to be

sure,” Akira offered. She folded her arms over her broad waist.

“Aye, ‘tis.” Alexander agreed. “‘Tis a blessing I have oft longed for and

have finally found with Mary.” Those clansmen at the tables nearby raised

their cups in salute. Several others came forward to offer their well wishes.

An hour or more passed before Alexander rose and pulled Mary’s

chair back. Amidst greetings of farewell, they took their leave.

“You did not speak to me of the gifts given to the wee ones,” Alexander

said as he bent to give her a boost into the saddle.

“You did not tell me you were so well versed in the art of persuasion.

Where did you learn such things?” She accepted the reins from him and

settled herself on the sidesaddle.

“At court, lass. It does no harm for a leader to know when to lead and

when to persuade.” He placed a possessive hand on her thigh.

Mary rested her hand atop his and the smile she offered him he found

both soft and alluring. “I know well how you practice those arts, my lord.”

****

people who farmed the flat areas of the valley. The cold winter sun was

directly overhead, by the time he finally turned for home. When they arrived

at the castle, the inner courtyard was empty but for the guards posted atop

the battlements. The stables were deserted except for two young lads who

ran forward to grasp the bridles of their mounts.

“‘Tis time for the noon meal,” Mary observed as Alexander grasped her

about the waist and lifted her down.

“Aye. ‘Twill only take a few moments to unsaddle the horses and rub

them down. You may go to the great hall and join the rest,” he suggested.

“I do not care to wait for you, Alexander.”

Her willingness to remain with him brought a smile to his lips. Being

alone with her, but for the time they spent in their chamber, had become a

rarity. He missed having her near to speak of the mundane happenings of

the day.

“‘Twas not the ordeal you were expecting, eh lass?” he asked as they

followed the horses into the stable.

“Nay.”

His open support of her made it more difficult for anyone to doubt her

or at least to give vent to such thoughts. Once the bairn was born, there

would be no more opportunity for them to cause her grief.

Mary stood outside the stall while he instructed the lads how the

horses were to be rubbed down and covered with wool blankets until their

coats dried. The mare came to the door of the stall and poked her head out

to nuzzle Mary’s arm for attention.

“What do you have a mind to name her?” he asked as he stepped

from the stall to join her and rested an arm atop the door.

“I shall call her Breandan, for it means little raven.”

He nodded in agreement. “‘Tis good.”

The sound of feminine laughter came from the end of the stable.

Slender feet incased in black leather shoes and white stockings showed

themselves at the top of the ladder. The rounded shape of a skirt-covered

buttocks came through the loft opening as the woman descended.

Alexander recognized Tira’s black tresses immediately.

A male voice came from above though his words were indistinct. Long

legs clothed in trews and boots followed the path Tira had taken. Until the

man leaped to the bottom of the ladder, Alexander did not recognize him. As

they watched, Gabriel caught Tira about the waist and bent his head to kiss

her in a passionate fashion, his hand cupping her hip to press her against

his tall frame.

Mary’s eyes rose to Alexander’s face, her eyes round with surprise. He

placed a finger to his lips and caught her hand to draw her out the side door

of the stable. He did not miss the surreptitious glances she cast his way on

their way to great hall.

“Do you not think you must speak to Gabriel about her, Alexander?”

Surprised, he stared at her. He had thought she would be pleased

Tira’s attention rested on another man and not on him. “Why should I do

that, lass?”

“Gabriel is not—he seems—he does not know the way’s of women.”

she said. He read the uneasiness in her expression quite easily.

“He’s a man full grown, Mary. He knows the ways as well as any of the

rest of us. He would not care for my interference.” He stopped. “Why do you

question their being together, if ‘tis what they wish?”

She fell silent for a moment, her brows drawn together in a frown. “‘Tis

just—he seems just a lad.”

For a full minute, he gazed down at her in stunned surprise, then a

niggling feeling of jealousy and suspicion began to take hold. Why should

she be concerned for Gabriel’s well being? What was he to her? “That lad

is half a score older than you, Mary.”

“But he is tender of heart, and I do not trust her to care for him. ‘Twould

suit him better to wed someone like Grace.”

Alexander snorted. Compared to what Tira could offer him, the idea of

the man marrying a child such as Grace was ridiculous.

“Grace is but a year younger than I, Alexander.”

He halted in surprise.

“She would treat him with care,” Mary said decisively with a nod

Jealous anger rose up like a flaming torch within him and he

struggled to control the angry words that leaped to his lips. “‘Twould serve

you well to fash yourself with the care of the man you’re wed to and no other,

Mary,” he said, his voice taut with as much control as he could muster. He

shoved open the great hall door with enough angry force the wooden portal

banged against the wall.

****

men seemed to go through. One moment they were laughing, the next

snarling and snapping. Since returning from their ride, Alexander’s

demeanor had become so cranky and out of sorts, she wondered if he were

growing ill. Her whispered inquiry about his health earned her such a terse

reply, she decided she would part from him before he tried her patience

further.

“I must see how Grace is faring with the prisoner, Alexander,” she said

when she had finished her meal. Though few of the men remained to see it,

the dismissive gesture he gave her set her cheeks to burning. She climbed

the stairs to the landing, giving vent to her temper beneath her breath with

each step.

Had her prying aggravated feelings of jealousy over Tira now he had

seen her and Gabriel together? She should be relieved the woman had

found someone else on whom to focus her affections. But she did not truly

believe she had. She did not trust Tira’s motives and she didn’t want to see

Gabriel hurt. He had watched over her and her bairn and had protected her

from harm. She felt a need to do the same for him, just as she would the

others who had protected her.

The quiet eased her temper as she made her way down the many

passageways working her way toward the prisoner’s chamber. Pausing

outside the room, she drew a deep breath to compose herself lest the

servants noticed her upset. The door stood ajar and she pushed against it.

The heavy portal swung open with barely a sound.

Just inside the chamber, lay a clansman face down on the floor in a

pool of water. Two overturned buckets rested on their side next to him. With

a gasp, Mary rushed to him and placed a hand on his back. The slow rise

and fall of his breathing had her drawing a relieved breath. She ran a hand

over the wet matted hair at the back of his head and felt an egg shaped

lump there. Her fingers came away bloody.

She shook him calling to him to awaken. The man groaned but did not

rouse. Her eyes moved belatedly around the room. Gabriel’s comment the

night before about the man’s intent to do harm ran through her mind. Instant

concern for Grace raced through her. So slight of build, the girl would be

easily controlled, even for a man as ill as the prisoner.

She had to get help and raise the alarm. She looked about the room

for a weapon. Finding only the unconscious clansman’s dagger and her

own at hand, she drew her blade, gripping it tightly as she crossed to the

door.

Her heart pounding, she surveyed the empty corridor before running

down the passageway in the direction of the great hall. Pausing at each

turn, she peered cautiously down the many corridors before moving on. A

maid appeared unexpectedly from around a corner, and she yelped in

surprise as they almost collided.

“The prisoner has escaped, are there any weapons stored in any of

the chambers on this floor?” she asked the woman.

“Aye, m’lady. Come this way.”

She followed the woman to a chamber just a few doors further along

the passageway. The servant pushed the door of the chamber wide and

stood back. Her gaze traversed the narrow storage room.

“There are many such rooms throughout the castle, m’lady,” the

woman explained. “But what good will they be to us?”

Mary sheathed her dagger then crossed the room to a wooden rack on

which bows were stored. She ran her hand over the slender length of a bow

and lifted it from its position. She looked about for the arrows. She tiptoed to

lift down a quiver hung on the side of a heavy wooden wardrobe. She chose

two arrows then turned back to the woman. “Lock yourself inside the

chamber and stay here until I send someone for you,” she ordered.

“You must do the same, Lady Mary,” she urged.

Mary shook her head. “Nay, I am well armed and must raise the alarm.

“Do it now.”

Holding the bow in her hand for reassurance, Mary hastened down the

corridor. As she paused above the gallery, she was struck by the unnatural

quiet of the great hall below. Her gaze swung downward. A few men

remained seated on the benches, the tables before them partially cleared.