To Steal a Highlander's Heart (10 page)

Eyes
narrow, Margot dropped her goblet, wine sloshing over the rim as it clunked on
the table. "Ach, yer a fool. He'll only use ye. Ye must make yer escape
while ye can." She edged toward her. "Ye are in grave danger. He is
bitter and jealous and it eats at him."

"I
already attempted an escape. 'Twas none to successful."

"Aye,"
Margot's lips twisted, "‘twas a sight to be seen. But ye must try
harder."

"Why
do ye care anyway? Should ye not be supporting yer laird in his decisions?"

"He
is not my laird!" she spat. "My husband is my laird. Morgann will never
be laird."

Alana
took a step back, the venomous tone taking her by surprise. Why would Morgann never
be laird? What did she mean? She wasn't sure she wanted to know. Anger and something
sinister darkened Margot's eyes, forcing Alana to hold the questions on her
tongue.

"Trust
me," Margot continued when Alana failed to respond, "ye dinnae want
to make the mistake of trusting Morgann. Jealously will drive a man to much
desperation."

"What
does he have to be jealous of?"

Pausing
to secure her gaze on her, a smile slid across Margot's face. "Me."

"Ye?"

"Aye.
He loved me ye see. Wanted me for himself. And then I married his father. He's
not been the same since. Why he's even accused me of witchcraft."

Alana
blinked. Morgann loved Margot? Surely he would have confided in her when they
were friends? A sharp twisting pain stabbed at her heart. But he'd said there
was something he never told her. Could that have been it? And witchcraft? It
was hardly an accusation to take lightly. Morgann surely knew that saying such
a thing might see Margot burned. While Alana didn't trust the woman, she'd
never stoop to accusing even her worst enemy of witchcraft. Morgann had to be
driven by something very grave indeed. Or… mayhap wild jealousy provoked him.

Alana
twisted away and blindly sought the arched doorway. When she stepped outside, she
scanned the walls for any sign of Morgann but he was nowhere. The man was so
reticent, it was enough to drive her mad. If she confronted him about Margot, would
he even admit as much? She barely managed to get two words of explanation from
him as it was. Only that this wasn’t about revenge. She sorely hoped it wasn’t.
The thought of him caring for that woman made her hands curl into fists.

Well,
if he wanted to be so shady then let him. She threw up her chin and strutted down
the steps. For she had better things to think on. Like how she was going to
escape his clutches for good.

The
air in his father’s chambers smelled sour. Morgann eyed the shrivelled old man
surrounded by pillows and blankets and sighed. Hard to believe his father had
once been a great leader, bringing about peace and many victories for the
MacRaes. Ranald MacRae was respected far and wide.

Floorboards
squeaked as he stepped carefully across the room, candle flames flickering as
he brushed by, and his father awoke. It took a moment for him to focus on
Morgann and he grinned in recognition.

“Morgann,
lad, ‘tis good to see ye. Is all well?”

Morgann
resisted the need to wince at his father’s scratchy voice and how he greeted
him as if he hadn’t seen him in days. Which was likely true. He avoided seeing
his father, using his duties as an excuse. The sight of his father so decrepit
tore at him, made his gut clench with despair.

He
concealed his discomfort with a grin as he came to his father’s side and
dragged the small wooden chair closer. “Good morrow, father,” he greeted as he
sat. “Are ye well?”

“Aye,
aye, well enough. Have ye seen Margot this morn? I’ve not seen her yet.”

“She’s
busy, Father.”

“She
is? What have ye got my bride doing? For surely I cannae persuade her to take
her duties seriously.”

Morgann
let slip a wry smile. “None can, but I try.”

“And
here ye take yers too seriously.”

“Someone
has to.”

“I
worry for ye, lad. Ye cannae bear everything on those shoulders of yers. Ye
need to share yer burdens.”

“With
someone like Margot ye mean?”

His
father gave a gruff laugh. “Margot is well enough for an old man like me but ye
need a woman like yer mother. One of good character.”

In
spite of himself, Morgann laughed, trying to ignore the voice at the back of
his mind that told him he’d already found one. “Ye mean she’s good only for a
quick tumble. Then why did ye marry the woman? Father, there’s more to that
woman than good looks. She has a black heart.”

The
old man shook his head. “She’s just a simple lass. Ye need to realise that,
Morgann. Not many women are like yer mother, so I settled for what I could get.
She keeps me warm as long as I keep her in fine clothes and that will do for
me. Soon ye’ll find yerself a good lassie of strong character and Margot will
be content not to have to worry about her duties.”

Morgann
fought the urge to grimace. They’d debated Margot’s character many times and
the man refused to believe she was anything but a beautiful, empty-headed
woman. But Margot was not so simple. If she was, Morgann would have little to
worry about.

“So
have ye any news for me?”

Pressing
his fingers to his temples, Morgann debated telling him of Alana’s presence. In
truth, he didn’t know what to say and he feared making his father sicker, but
he also needed him to know of Margot’s plot. He’d wondered if Margot intended
to make his father aware of Alana’s captivity but decided it was unlikely. If
Alana disappeared suddenly, Margot would have no one to answer to but himself
and would still have the protection of being his father’s wife.

With
a sigh, he forced a smile across his face. “Nay, Father, no news. All is well.”

***

Alana
saw little of Morgann that day or the next two. It riled her for she urgently
wanted to confront him. And kiss him. She shook her head. Nay, not kiss him. Anything
but that. If what Margot had told her was true then sharing another kiss with
him was more senseless than ever. She certainly didn’t want to be some other
woman’s replacement. And who could compete with such beauty?

She
slumped onto one of the chairs that sat around the edge of the hall and glanced
at Morgann’s stepmother who was clearly inebriated. The woman drank a lot.
Alana plucked at the fabric in her hand and yawned. She was in no mood for embroidery.
Her feet twitched with the need to do
something.
There was still no word
from her father. Morgann had even sent another messenger out that morning. Why was
he delayed? Was he gathering an army strong enough to knock down the walls of
Glencolum? Her stomach twisted. She hoped not. A siege would bring such devastation
to both sides she hardly dared to think on it.

And
she’d still found no way out. Margot had hinted at her being able to escape
through a drainage gate in the wall but mayhap Morgann had thought of that as
there was always a guard posted in front of it. She blew out a breath. It was
hopeless.

The
large hall door swung open, letting in a gust of cool air. The day had begun
grey and cloudy, gradually turning into heavy rain, leaving Alana feeling more like
a prisoner than ever. Morgann strode in, his dark hair damp and spikey. Water
dripped down him and moulded his plaid to his body. Alana knew she was gaping
as she watched his every move but couldn’t look away. The linen of his shirt
was almost transparent, revealing every indent in his physique. He rubbed a
hand over his face and glanced at her.

Alana
yelped as she jabbed her needle into her finger. Cheeks heating furiously, she
looked down to see blood pooling on the pad of her finger. The sight made her
stomach roll which was odd for she normally had a strong stomach. As she
brought the finger to her lip, she lifted her head and gulped.

“What
have ye done to yerself, lass?” Morgann demanded as he came over and snatched her
hand.

“Naught.”
She tried to drag her hand from him but he kept his grip firm as he inspected
the damage.

He
blotted the finger using the sleeve of his shirt and gave her a tilted smile.
“Daft lass,” he said softly.

Had
she imagined the affection in his tone? He certainly didn’t sound like he was
scolding her. Mayhap she’d mollified him with her good behaviour. A faint spark
of hope alighted in her chest. Mayhap he’d be more willing to talk about
releasing her. Or at least explain his reasoning’s.

“Ye’ve
been gone all day,” she said hoarsely.

“Aye.”

“Yer
duties have kept ye busy?”

He
pulled the linen away and checked her finger. “Aye.”

“Morgann—”
Her voice shrivelled up as he brought her hand to his lips and briefly kissed
her knuckles.

“All
better.” He released her hand and she rubbed at where his lips had touched.

Damn
the man. How could he confuse her so? One minute he was kissing her, then
ignoring her, and then being the most chivalrous man she’d ever met. She
coughed as she peeked over at Margot who watched them closely and remembered
that she wanted to speak with him.

“Morgann,
I must speak with ye. ‘Tis… ‘tis about…” she dropped her voice, “Margot.”

Morgann’s
eyes flashed briefly at the mention of his stepmother. “What has she done? Has
she harmed ye? Threatened ye? Curses, I—”

“Nay,
nay, nothing like that.” She frowned as she studied his reaction. Surely he wouldn’t
think such things of Margot if he loved her?

“Come
with me then,” he commanded suddenly, offering a hand.

Alana
took it, a faint sensation of dizziness coming over her as she stood. She blinked.
While his touch usually incited many sensations, it never normally made her
nauseous.

Morgann
led her out into the archway of the door. The wind and rain buffeted but the
stone protected them from the worst of it. And Morgann positioned himself so that
he shielded her from the rest.

“Ye
could have taken me to yer chambers.”

“I
cannae be in yer chambers, Alana. ‘Tis no’ a good idea.”

“After
that kiss ye mean?” She couldn’t believe she’d said that aloud. Her mind was
muddled and she wavered slightly as bile rose in her throat. Sweet Mary but she
did feel queer.

She
saw Morgann’s brow furrow in the light of the torches on either side of the
door. “Alana, is all well? Ye look a little pale. Do ye need something? Is that
why ye needed to speak with me?”

“Nay…”
A strange foggy sensation had reached her ears and her voice seemed muffled.
She put a hand to the wall for support as her legs tingled. Something was not
right. She threw a desperate glance up at Morgann, praying he would understand
as her knees threatened to buckle. Sweat blossomed on her forehead and she
leaned back into the castle and closed her eyes. The world swayed beneath her
and she just heard a shout of dismay as the wall stopped supporting her.

***

With
a giggle, Tèile dunked her head into the wine, slurping at the fruity liquid.
Not bad. She swiped a hand across her mouth and grinned. Not like fae wine but
very nice indeed. She sighed as the pleasing sensation of slowly loosening
limbs pervaded. Taking one last glug, she slumped against the goblet and eyed
the stepmother. What a vile woman. Even the faeries who liked to play tricks on
humans were more pleasant. A deep seated evil lingered in that woman, one that could
not be explained. An inbred nastiness, Tèile concluded.

She
shook her head and peered out the door at Alana’s silhouette. What was the lass
doing? Kissing him hopefully. She rubbed at her temples. How had the kiss not
worked? She had been so sure that but one kiss be would be all it would take.
Anyone could see they were meant to be together. Even Margot, manipulative
woman that she was. She dare not risk Alana getting close to Morgann in case he
told her the truth and she actually believed him. In fact, Morgann’s stepmother
wanted Alana gone. Yet more for Tèile to worry about.

What
a mess.

Alana
wavered sideways and the faery rolled her eyes. The lass surely knew better
than to be affected by Margot’s lies. Both Morgann and Alana’s hearts screamed
for one another. How she could ever doubt him, Tèile didn’t know.

Though
the foolish man did hide much from her. Somehow she needed to get them to open
up to each other. A feat easier said than done. Tèile looked longingly at the
wine and then at Alana and released a slow breath. This job was going to take much
longer than she expected

She
tottered as she stood and fluttered her wings experimentally. Aye, she’d fly in
a straight line enough. It was not like she had much distance to fly. She
scowled as Alana shifted out of her vision, a sense of unease trickling through
her.

With
a flutter of her wings, she flew unsteadily across the hall, resisting the urge
to give Margot a sharp poke or play a trick on her. She wasn’t meant to let
Alana out of her sight.

As
she sailed out of the door, she adjusted her wings to combat the slight breeze
and pivoted around to the spot where Alana had disappeared from her view.

Oh
by the stars.

***

That
pain stabbed at Morgann and he watched in horror as her feet gave way and she
slid sideways down the wall, her skirts catching on the rough stone as she
slipped. At the last moment, he dropped to his knees and hooked a hand under
her head, barely preventing her from hitting the ground. She crumpled
completely, hands limp by her side, eyes shut. Nausea burned his throat as he
tucked her into his hold and studied her ashen complexion. Already pale skin
looked deathly white and as he followed the line of her throat, he realised her
breaths were shallow. Too shallow.

"Hell's
teeth!" he shouted.

Finn
and several other men had gathered around and Morgann glanced over at his
friend. "Where is that damned witch?" Rage made his voice shake.
"Get me Margot."

"Morgann..."
Finn placed a hand to his shoulder.

Morgann
shucked the hand away and stood, cradling Alana carefully. "Just get
her," he pressed through his teeth.

"Aye,
laird. But ye cannae accuse her of witchery. Alana may just be suffering from a
malady."

Swallowing
unsteadily, Morgann skimmed his gaze over her still features. "'Tis no malady.
'Tis poison. I know it."

With
a sigh, Finn stepped aside to let him past. "I'll send for the
healer."

Morgann
didn't even acknowledge his words. He was too intent on getting Alana to his
room. Servants stared as he carried her in through the hall but Margot was
nowhere to be seen. He bit back a snarl of frustration. Damnation, this was all
his fault. He had been aware he was putting Alana in danger by bringing her
here. She was the one person who could reveal Margot for what she was and there
was no way Margot would allow her to be used to force the truth from Laird
Dougall's lips.

Kicking
the door to his chambers open, he eased her onto the bed. She made no sound,
her breaths barely audible even when he placed his ear near her lips. He
brushed a finger down her nose and lips, soft flesh now cool. Ach, to think
he'd been kissing those beautiful lips not long ago and they had been so full
of heat and life. What he would not give to have her awake, shouting at him for
capturing her, demanding to be released.

He
sat beside her and twined his fingers with her limp ones. Morgann brought the
back of her hand to his mouth and his chest ached as he skimmed his mouth over
her clammy skin. He almost expected her eyes to spring open and for her to
smack him around the face for kissing her but she remained motionless.