Victoria Roberts - [Bad Boys of the Highlands 03] (4 page)

The hour grew late and her back was sore between her shoulder blades. The women would probably seek their beds shortly, and the men would more than likely drink themselves under the table. As long as everyone remained in their cups, no one should really bother her. Undoubtedly, they wouldn’t even notice she was missing. She briefly wondered if she’d be able to search for the stone now, and then she remembered Colin’s words to earn the MacDonell’s trust first. Damn. She knew that finding the stone this eve and not having to speak her vows in the morn would be too much to hope for. At any rate, it was time to make her escape.

“Alexander,” Sybella said softly. When her betrothed glanced toward her, she cast her gaze downward. “I think it best to seek my chamber now.”

He rose to his feet and pulled out her chair. “Let me have someone escort ye.”

She shook her head. “That isnae necessary. My trunk was brought up and I know where
’
tis found. I thank ye for this fine celebration.” When she started to walk away, he called to her.

“Lady MacKenzie…” When she turned around and raised her brow, Alexander lazily appraised her. “I will see ye on the morrow. Sleep well,” he said, his voice low and consciously alluring.

As their eyes met, Sybella felt a shock run through her. It was too easy to get lost in the way the man looked at her. She felt a curious swooping pull at her innards. Unsettled, she moistened her dry lips and turned on her heel.

***

Colin approached his father, pushing him toward an unoccupied wall. He slapped his father’s shoulder. “All of the men are knee deep in their cups. It appears the MacDonells have welcomed Sybella into their home. Her charm is fairly catching. How could they nae?”

“They arenae but a bunch of daft fools,” spat his father. He glanced around the great hall and then lowered his voice. “I assume ye will take this opportunity then.”

A heavy silence fell.

“To do what? The MacDonell seems verra pleased,” said Colin in a reassuring tone.

His father’s coolness was evidence that he was not amused. “
Find my bloody stone.
”

“I honestly donna know why your father and Colin donna throttle ye.” Mary sat down on a chair in Sybella’s bedchamber. “Whether ye like it or nae, the MacDonell is to be your husband. Ye need to act as a lady, Sybella. Ye barely spoke to your betrothed this eve, and your posture was just dreadful at the table. Didnae ye see me? I tried to tell ye. If ye keep up with that type of behavior, the MacDonell may have ye eating in the stable with the other animals.”

Sybella recognized that Mary meant well in her own way, but her cousin-by-marriage didn’t know the true purpose behind this marriage. If she did, Sybella knew Mary wouldn’t understand. The woman loved and doted upon Angus, and she was foolish enough to think that women should be allowed to marry for love as well as convenience. But for Sybella, it was too late. As Sybella, Colin, and her father had discussed, they would tell no one, including Mary and Angus.

Although Sybella’s loyalties lay with her father, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat deprived. She would never know the feeling of what Angus and Mary shared. She would never know love, because her marriage was nothing more than a ruse.

While Mary continued to ramble, Sybella fell back on the bed and studied the stone walls of her prison—well, her permanent residence for the rest of her days. The bed in which she lay had tall, carved corner posts, and its heavy wooden frame took up the majority of one wall. A beautiful golden coverlet displayed fine needlework, something she would surely never master, and was draped over the feather mattress, which was surprisingly comfortable. On the far side of the room, a painted portrait of someone she had assumed to be Alexander’s mother hung above a fairly large stone fireplace. And her cousin-by-marriage currently occupied the small sitting area, refusing to cease her incessant chatter.

“Angus and I tried to tell ye—”

Sybella pressed both hands over her eyes as if they burned with weariness. She was tired, drained from another lecture.

“God’s teeth! Will ye
cease
?” asked Sybella, spacing the words evenly. “If the MacDonell decides to call off the wedding, it will nae be because of my lack of comportment.”

As if her arse was afire, Mary flew to her feet. “I only look after ye, and your first impression was far from a good one. Do ye want your betrothed to see his bride as some uncivilized, unmannered woman? Ye didnae let him assist ye from your mount, and then ye stared verra boldly at him. Ye barely spoke to the man at sup, and must I remind ye again of how dreadful your posture was at the table? Ye sit as a man, Ella. If I may be so bold, ye have made enough errors in judgment that ye should be taking my instruction willingly. Now if ye will excuse me, Angus awaits. Mayhap we will be able to speak again on the morrow when ye arenae so sensitive.”

Sensitive?

“Mary, I love ye dearly, but take your leave before I strangle ye with my bare hands,” Sybella warned.

Stunned by Sybella’s bluntness, Mary snapped her mouth shut. She turned on her heel and strode out the door. Even though it pained Sybella to admit as much, Mary did have a valid point. She had barely conversed with
Alexander
this eve. She needed to remind herself to make it a personal goal not to call him Alex. God forbid she surrendered that easily and gave the rogue the satisfaction of knowing she’d lowered her defenses.

Taking a deep breath, she drew the conclusion that this was probably not the best way to start a marriage. She hadn’t tried to speak or make pleasantries with the man because frankly, she didn’t give a damn about him. But granted, the last thing she wanted to do was disappoint her father. It was important she please him, make him proud. Laird Kenneth MacKenzie was truly a great man and deserved a daughter who was not an embarrassment to the clan.

Sybella rose from the bed and straightened her gown. What she needed was some fresh air, a new perspective. Perhaps a brisk walk on the parapet would help to clear the haze. She was proceeding out the door when a scraping noise sounded from the opposite end of the hall.

“Is anyone there?” asked Sybella. When no one answered, she closed the door and continued with her purpose.

When she reached the door to the parapet, she saw a disheveled man who had his arm draped over a voluptuous woman with fiery red tresses. Sybella presumed the drunken man was a MacDonell from his bawdy laughter—well, that and the fact that he was wearing a MacDonell plaid. The man pulled the woman roughly, almost violently, to him against the stone wall.

Sybella’s temper flared.

She was about to defend the helpless woman when she froze midstep. The woman responded—by burying her lips against the MacDonell man’s throat and sliding her leg up around his waist. Suddenly, she didn’t appear as helpless as Sybella had initially thought. When the woman proceeded to slip her hands underneath the MacDonell man’s kilt and his expression tightened with strain, Sybella’s eyes rounded with comprehension.

The woman did not need saving.

It wasn’t as if Sybella hadn’t spied on Colin enough to know how the act was done, but she couldn’t disguise her body’s reaction to the sight displayed so openly before her eyes. The man and woman pawed at each other out in the open, not in a bedchamber. At least her brother had enough sense not to be so visible. He would’ve taken his leman to a bed or at least sought a hidden hayloft. But no matter how disturbed she was by witnessing their carefree touches, Sybella could not find the strength to pull away.

The man repositioned himself, and when he let out a guttural moan, Sybella could not help the loud gasp that escaped her lungs. The man’s head turned slightly toward her, and then he gently pushed the woman away from him.

“M’lady.” He attempted to give her a low bow as his companion steadied him. The woman tried to straighten her clothing while the man spoke, his words barely comprehensible. “We were heading to the p-p-parapet. Unless of course, ye w-w-wanted
…”

Sybella was glad of the semidarkness that hid the flush on her cheeks. “Nay, I was returning to my chamber. Thank ye.” The last thing she wanted was to be in the middle of a lovers’ tryst, let alone spying on one. What the hell was the matter with her? Why hadn’t she fled when she had the chance?

She walked hastily through the halls, thoroughly embarrassed by the scene she had witnessed. She should’ve stayed in her chamber and sought her bed. That’s what she wanted to do in the first place. Now she was paying a humiliating price for her stupidity.

She had almost reached the safe confines of her bedchamber when she spotted someone ducking into one of the rooms at the end of the hall. In fact, that certain someone looked vaguely familiar.

Moving quietly down the hall, Sybella approached the room. But as soon as she bent over to see if a light was illuminated from underneath the door, the chamber went dark. She hesitated, questioning what she thought she saw. Perhaps it was only her imagination, but she could have sworn…

She lifted her hand and gently knocked on the door. When no one answered, her curiosity was most definitely aroused. This may not have been one of her brightest ideas. Who knew what she could be walking into? The thought barely crossed her mind when someone reached out and pulled her abruptly into the room.

She gasped.

“What the bloody hell are ye doing here, Ella?”

***

Alexander reveled in the aftermath of the celebration. A few MacDonell men were passed out with their heads down on the tables, not to be outdone by the MacKenzie men who were splayed upon the great hall floor. He never thought he’d see the day when MacKenzie men slumbered on the MacDonell crest inlaid in the stone floor. In any event, Alex sat in the laird’s chair, his father’s chair, pleased at conclusion of the day’s events.

“I see your betrothed has retired for the eve.” John pulled out a chair and sat down. “Did ye fire her ire, or did she run back to Kintail with her tail between her legs?”

Alex chuckled in response and poured John a tankard of ale. “I donna know. In either instance, at least we have the cattle.”

“I hope to hell ye know what ye’re doing.”

Imposing an iron control, Alex spoke confidently. “We already had this discussion.
’
Tis a lot of cattle for our clan to be fed and the MacKenzie has taken so much from us already. Think of it as them paying us back for all the things they’ve taken.”

John lowered his voice. “I didnae mean the cattle. Ye’ve shackled yourself with a wife—and a
MacKenzie
one at that.”

Alex favored many things about John, but sometimes his friend’s truthfulness was more of a pain in the arse. “And that MacKenzie lass brings two hundred fifty cattle with her as her dowry—two hundred fifty
MacKenzie
cattle.”

A grin overtook John’s features and he held up his hands in mock defense. “Ye donna need to convince me. The men seemed to enjoy themselves.” He nodded to the drunken men.

“Aye. For a time I thought our clans would actually be warring in the middle of the great hall.” He ran his hand through his hair in a tired gesture. “I was somewhat concerned, but at least everyone is still in one piece—well, more or less.”

“Ye gave a fine speech, Alex.” John took another swig of ale and lowered his voice. “The men are still on guard.”

“Good. Make certain they arenae in their cups, and they will be rewarded when the MacKenzies take their leave. I want a watchful eye kept on them at all times. The MacKenzie retired with a lass a short time ago. Where is his son?”

“I have Ian following him. Nay worries, Alex. Enjoy your celebration because on the morrow, ye will be a married man. ’Tis too bad Doireann took her leave with Donald. Ye could have had at least one more night of freedom before ye spoke your vows.”

“I doubt I will be getting much rest with my new bride if Aunt Iseabail has her way. The woman has been constantly hounding me about an heir. Praise the saints I should forget such a task.”

“That is one duty I know ye will nae mind performing.” John gave him a friendly punch in the arm. “At least the MacKenzie lass isnae so sore on the eyes. I cannae help but wonder if ye would have accepted the offer so willingly had she been a troll.”

Alex shrugged. “
’
Tis late. I suppose I should gather Aunt Iseabail, but she doesnae look as though she is ready to part company.”

John gulped the remainder of his ale and placed his tankard down on the table. “And I should be checking on the men to make sure they stay at their posts.” He rose from the chair and slapped Alex on the back. “Ye better seek your bed, my laird. Ye will want to give your bonny new bride all of the attention she deserves on the morrow.”

Alex smiled. “Aye, as soon as I am able to rouse Aunt Iseabail from the table and the company.” He watched John walk away, and then he shook his head, thinking about his aunt. She’d drunk most of the men under the table and still was able to hold a conversation. The MacDonells were indeed strong stock.

Alex approached the table, and the older MacKenzie man looked thoroughly engaged in the conversation—well, either that or completely taken by Alex’s aunt. The man sat forward, hanging on the edge of her every word.

“So my dear departed husband stripped them of their clothing, took their mounts, and made them all walk back as bare as the day they were born,” said Aunt Iseabail. “They ne’er encroached on our lands again.” She was friendly, smiling and bantering in a relaxed manner. As though she sensed someone beside her, she turned. “Alexander, I was sharing stories with William.”

“Aye, your aunt has some amazing tales,” said William, his eyes never leaving hers.

Alex knelt down beside her. “Aunt Iseabail,
’
tis late. Why donna ye let me escort ye to your chamber?”

To his surprise, she pushed him away. “Nephew, William and I are having a delightful time. Right, William?”

“We only stay here to talk. I will make certain your aunt seeks her chamber.” William met Alex’s eyes without flinching. “Alone.”

When Alex raised his brow at his aunt, she smirked, shooing him away. “Please, Nephew.
’
Tis been a long time since I required a chaperone.” And with that, Aunt Iseabail promptly ignored him and continued her conversation with William. “Now what was I speaking of?”

Alex knew when he wasn’t wanted. Recognizing that sleep would not come, he wasn’t ready to seek his bed and walked out into the bailey. Against the far wall, John spoke in raised tones with Ian. When John threw his hands up in the air, Alex knew something was amiss.

He approached his men and John’s words were hostile. Ian received a verbal thrashing and looked none too pleased.

“What the hell is going on?” asked Alex. “I can hear ye from across the bailey.”

At the sound of his voice, Ian turned. “My laird, the MacKenzie has sought his chamber, but I cannae find the MacKenzie’s son.”

***

“Colin, what do ye think ye are doing?” Sybella scolded him, pulling her arm out of her brother’s grasp.

Colin lit the candle and she glanced around. Several pieces of unfinished embroidery were laid upon the table, and a handful of dresses were thrown carelessly on the bed. The room was smaller than hers but just as enchanting. The dark wooden frame of the bed and the ornate furnishings complemented one another. And with bunches of floral stems that were placed upon the mantel, Sybella knew in an instant whose chamber this was.

“What are ye doing in here?” she asked, her voice unintentionally going up a notch.

“I was searching for you,” Colin responded with returning impatience.

“Searching for me? Why would ye be searching for me in Aunt Iseabail’s chamber? I will have the truth, Brother.”

His stare drilled into her and he cleared his throat. “I didnae know it was her room.”

“Ye didnae know,” she repeated.

“Aye, ye heard me. What other reason would I have to be in her chamber, Ella?”

She walked around him. “Let me tell ye what I think.”

“Ye always do,” Colin murmured under his breath.

“Surely ye arenae so bold as to search for the stone before I am wed. Ye told me as much. That being said, I think ye cannae help but sneak around Glengarry and wonder how Kintail compares,” she simply stated.