Mary Reed McCall (21 page)

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Authors: The Sweetest Sin

BOOK: Mary Reed McCall
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“I’
m glad to see you finally came to your senses, man.” Kinnon grinned from his position next to Duncan at the banquet table. Sounds of revelry and celebration clanged around them so that he had to speak louder than usual to be heard. He picked up another piece of roasted duck in his fingers and nibbled at it before leaning back with a sigh. “I’d hoped you’d see the light and ask her to marry you. I was beginning to think I’d never get a decent meal again.”

Duncan laughed softly, cuffing his cousin on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t let Bridgid hear you say that.”

“Aye, I’d better watch my tongue,” Kinnon agreed. But the silly look on his face spoiled any attempt he made at seeming fearful. He straightened, adding, “Where is Aileana? She should rest and eat. She’s hardly touched her food.”

“Aye, well, I’ve been too busy cooking it.”

Duncan twisted to see Aileana approaching, feeling
the same burst of happiness he’d felt each time that he looked at her in the days since she’d agreed to become his wife. He’d spoken true when he’d told her how deeply he cared for her, choosing his words carefully for fear of how she might feel. Though they’d made love, he’d been afraid that she’d never accept him as her husband; so much darkness had come before for them, so much hurt.

It had been the greatest joy of his life when she’d said yes. Casting up a silent prayer of thanks, he’d promised to be patient—to do all he could to help her grow to love him as he loved her. When the time was right, he could speak the words to her without worry, and know that she felt the same.

A smile pulled at his lips. At least there was one place that needed no help in their life together right now; aye, they’d made a fine start in the bedchamber this past week. A
very
fine start…

“I don’t know if it’s proper to let the bride prepare her own betrothal feast,” he teased her softly, as she came near enough for him to reach around her waist and pull her close to him.

“Better this than on the day we wed,” she clipped. “Besides, I’ve grown accustomed to being worked to the bone in this keep.” She grinned when Duncan pulled her across his lap in retaliation, resisting tickling her only when he realized that holding her was bringing up a familiar, pounding heat. And though he’d like nothing better than to disappear upstairs and indulge in some other, more pleasurable pastimes with her, he knew it wouldn’t be fair to those gathered to celebrate their betrothal.

“Saucy lass,” he whispered so that only she could hear, “you’ll pay sweetly for that tongue of yours once we’re alone tonight.”

“Truly?” she asked, her brows raising in mock alarm. She wrapped her arms round his neck as she sat on his lap and leaned over to whisper, “Well, mayhap my tongue will find other, more pleasurable pursuits this eve. Then you won’t wish to curb it, I’ll warrant.” Before he could answer, she scrambled off of him and skittered away, leaving him laughing and reaching to swat at her retreating backside.

“She’s a lively one, sure,” Kinnon said, raising his cup of ale in salute.

“Aye, she is, and glad I am of it.” Duncan picked up a sugared berry and popped it in his mouth before asking, “Any word from Dulhmeny yet?”

“Nay, nothing. When Gil returned from delivering your message, he said they’d received it without comment.”

“After what Robert MacDonell saw here little more than a week ago, I doubt he knows quite how to take a message telling him that his sister and I are going to wed.” Duncan ate another berry. “Just keep the guards posted as we discussed, in case he decides to disagree with the idea and attack us. I do not think he has the manpower yet to try it, but I cannot be sure.”

“It seems unlikely—a marriage is what they wanted at the start, isn’t it?”

“Aye, but after hearing about Gavin’s plot against me and their plans to seek retribution, I don’t want to assume anything.”

Kinnon nodded, and they fell silent until a sudden scuffling at the end of the hall drew their attention. A burst of long, red hair popped up at shoulder height, then two flailing hands. When the gathering people shifted, Duncan could see a laughing Aileana being hoisted up in the air by some of his kinsmen. Gil and
Ewen led her pack of captors, with several of the women following behind, waving bits of plaids and making loud calls and jests.

“Bring on the nuts! The nuts must be tossed,” they called, as they carried Aileana to the massive open fireplace.

“It looks like you’d better join her.” Kinnon bit back a smile as he took another swig of his spiced ale. “You don’t want to miss such an important ceremony.”

“You put them up to this, didn’t you?”

Kinnon merely shrugged and stood. “It doesn’t matter much, now, does it? It cannot hurt. It’s only for sport to read the omen in them.” He winked. “Just think of it as an early present in honor of your union.”

“Aye,” Duncan answered wryly. “Just what I needed.” He stood. “With my luck both of the fruits will explode before they’ve sat in the coals for five seconds.”

Kinnon just laughed and grabbed his arm, dragging him toward the festivities that were building to uproarious levels near the fireplace. By the time Duncan reached Aileana, a selection of nuts had been laid out across the hearthstones. “It appears as though we’ll have to partake of this ancient and noble custom,” he murmured to her.

“Aye, so it seems.”

Duncan felt another warm jolt go through him when she looked at him. Her eyes sparkled. She was enjoying every moment of this revelry, he realized with delight. A far cry from her demeanor the last time they’d had a large celebration in the hall, when the Mackenzies had been visiting. Duncan grinned and soaked in the sight of her. He never thought he’d be able to feel this way about any woman again. He loved everything about her—her spirit, her fire, her beauty, her tenderness. The passion
she was capable of feeling. She’d stolen his heart, and he realized that he never wanted to be free.

Clasping her hand in his, he said, “Shall we choose, then?”

Smiling, she nodded, and they knelt down at the hearth. His clan folk gathered in a huge semicircle around them, leaning in and pressing closer, calling out advice on the best nut to pick. Duncan made a great show of choosing and discarding one after another, until he finally settled on a small, firm-looking acorn with a tight brown cap. Aileana picked a fine hazelnut, and a cheer went up as they held their choices aloft for all to see.

A hush came over the group, and many of the women murmured blessings behind their hands. Then, at the signal, the gathering began to count the way to the casting of the nuts. Only Nora hung back, sour-faced and unwilling to participate. When they reached the lucky number seven, Aileana and Duncan both rolled their nuts into the coals of the fire, then leaned away to watch if they would burn slow and steady or if they would crack and explode too quickly.

The moments ticked past, and with each second, the excitement in the hall built higher. “It’s a good omen! They’re burning together in the light o’ love!” some of the women began to whisper.

“Aye, they’re burning in love, all right,” one of the men called out loud with a laugh. “And a good marriage it’ll be, if that burning love lasts every night for the rest o’ their lives!”

The gathering erupted into shouts and cheers, and Duncan helped Aileana to her feet, laughing with the rest and delighting in the blush on her cheeks. Gil stepped forward to slap him on the shoulder, nodding
his congratulations. Several of the men moved closer as well, only to be stopped by someone’s loud command at the hall’s entryway. Duncan stood still. He recognized Robert MacDonell’s booming voice.

And as he turned to face his future brother-in-law, his gaze swept past the hearth to see that his acorn had burst into flames.

 

“Is it true, MacRae? Are you planning to marry my sister, or is this another ploy to make a mockery of my clan?”

Aileana felt a shock go through her.
Robert was here?
She looked questioningly at Duncan, and he nodded. “I invited him with my message to Dulhmeny. Don’t worry, Aileana; we’ll convince him to support our union.”

She didn’t have time to question further. A path cleared, revealing the new chieftain of the clan MacDonell, her eldest brother, Robert. He looked impressive, standing in his full regalia as laird, with a jaunty bonnet on his head complete with a plume jutting out to the side. Without the dirt and blood of battle, as she’d last seen him, he looked a new man. Startled, Aileana realized for the first time how much he resembled Father.

Robert’s stony expression softened at the sight of her, and she went running into his arms.

“How have you fared, lassie?” he murmured, cupping her cheeks in his palms and tipping her face up.

“I’ve been well. In truth, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Robert’s brow shot up. He released her gently. “That is much to say, the happiest in all your life. The MacRae…he’s treated you well, then? I couldn’t tell as much when I visited last, since the wretch wouldn’t let me see you.”

“We’ve had some difficulties, it’s true, but Duncan has never done ill to me. I—I’ve come to care for him, Robert.”

Robert frowned. “Then the news of your betrothal is true?”

“Aye. Duncan has asked me to be his wife, and I’ve accepted.” She took his hand and began to lead him back to where Duncan sat waiting on a bench near the hearth. “You needn’t look so stern. I’m only going to be married, not disappear forever.” She spoke the rebuke as if in jest, but she sensed the troubled undercurrent in him.

“I don’t like the lateness of MacRae’s decision. He wouldn’t accept the offer of your hand when I made it at the beginning of all this.” Robert frowned. “Though I suppose as things rest, late honor is better than none at all.”

Aileana felt the flush grow warmer in her cheeks. Until seven days ago, her honor had been intact, no matter what the world had thought true. But now she could no longer deny Robert’s reference to her lack of purity. Shaking off the momentary guilt, she said, “Duncan is a man of his word, Robert.”

Her brother stopped her ten paces from Duncan and stared at her. “His sudden claim to want a wedding isn’t because you’re with child, is it? I’ve heard of rogues who’ll tell a woman almost anything to keep her happy until the babe arrives. Then they take the child and abandon its dam.”

“Aileana isn’t with child, so far as I know, MacDonell.” Duncan had stood and was approaching them, looking like a thundercloud. Robert fixed him with a glare, and Aileana shuddered, wishing that her brother had thought to ask such an indelicate question while they were still out of Duncan’s earshot. A devilish glint
came into Duncan’s eyes, and he directed an equally pointed glance at Robert. “However, I am looking forward to the time when Aileana will bear the future heir to the clan MacRae.”

Irritation lit in Aileana’s breast as she viewed her brother and her betrothed, facing each other down and discussing her like a possession of war. She stepped up between them. “I do not much like serving as the unseen subject of your conversation. If the two of you cannot speak to each other and to me in a civilized way, I’m going up to my chamber.
Alone
,” she added, as she flashed a sharp look at Duncan, “to leave you both down here wallowing in your foolishness.”

The heat in her chest began to abate with her outburst, and she saw with satisfaction that both Duncan and Robert had stopped still to gaze at her. Robert looked puzzled, but Duncan’s blank stare soon turned to wry amusement.

Finally, he crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “I think if you needed proof that I haven’t mistreated your sister, MacDonell, you’ve just witnessed it. She’s found her temper and the will to voice it in the time she’s lived at Eilean Donan with me.”

Aileana lifted her chin, refusing to let Duncan make her feel the slightest bit embarrassed for what she’d said. She looked at her brother. “What Duncan means to say is that I’ve learned to defend myself against his oafish behavior.” She heard his choked laugh behind her and fought the exasperated smile that suddenly tugged at her lips.

She struggled to maintain a serene composure as she slipped her hand beneath Robert’s elbow, steering him closer to the fire. “Come. You must be hungry. I’ll bring you a bowl of stew. We can talk more after you eat.”

Robert nodded, casting a searching glance between her and Duncan, as if trying to read their swift exchange of emotion. Aileana felt the tension relax from his arm, finally, as he too gave into a smile and allowed her to lead him to the bench. Duncan came close behind, and Robert slid over to allow him room to sit.

“Come join me near the fire, MacRae,” Robert said, slapping the bench. “We’ve much to discuss.” He gave Aileana a sly wink. “In truth, I’m starting to think that this match between you and my sister might be a good one. A very good one indeed.”

 

The date of the wedding was set. The ceremony would take place soon, shortly after the passing of
Samhain
at the end of October. But for all of the preparations that consumed the days and exhausted everyone by nightfall, Aileana still lay awake, staring up at the stonework of the ceiling. It was near dawn, already; she could tell by the leaden cast to the light outside the shutter. With a sigh, she turned on her side in the vast emptiness of the bed, missing Duncan’s warmth and wishing that he’d not had to leave for another of the seemingly incessant raids he’d been forced to lead against some of the rogue clans that kept plaguing them. He’d said he planned to be home by dark today, though, so she’d resolved to be patient.

But it was for more than just missing him that sleep would not come easily, she knew. Every time she began to relax and her eyes began to drift shut, it was the same. The same startling, disturbing image shot through her mind, jolting her to complete, stark awareness again…
The Ealach falling, its golden chain twisting in the speed of its descent. Then splashing into water, cold, gray and
deep, floating down, before disappearing into the murk of the ocean
.

Her logic told her that she was only reliving the horror of that day when she’d jumped over the bluff’s edge to elude capture. But her heart thrummed a different story. Something deeper inspired this vision; she knew it in her soul. It was almost the same as the odd tingling she’d gotten the morning she’d realized that the
Ealach
was in danger. The morning Father had taken it out to the battlefield. Only this feeling was even more persistent. It compelled her. But why? The amulet was hidden in the grotto, safe from harm. Or was it?

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