To Wed A Wicked Highlander

Her family had woven so many words into their verbal web that Sybella wasn’t sure what was right or wrong anymore. She could only trust the one person she had always depended upon—herself.

Sybella pulled away, and for a long moment, she simply looked back at her husband. She suddenly felt like the breathless girl at the waterfall. Her eyes portrayed what she already knew she felt in her heart. Praise the saints. She was falling in love with him. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but the admission was dredged from a place beyond logic and reason. And the worst part was that she gave the man no reason to trust her. His own wife.

She had to try to make amends.

Alex wrapped his arms around Sybella’s waist. “I should return by this eve. I will try to make haste.” His voice lowered and his mouth curved into an unconscious smile. “And I will deliver your message to your brother.” He paused longer than necessary, and she wasn’t sure if he wanted her to say something. He looked around uncomfortably, and then his eyes met hers. “I will miss ye, Ella.”

Before she could respond, she watched his broad back turn and he swung up onto his mount.

“Aunt Iseabail, I leave it to ye to make sure my cousin and my wife donna get into mischief.”

Aunt Iseabail waved Alex off. “Those two are the least of your worries. Ye should be worried about what trouble I get them into, Nephew.”

He again met Sybella’s gaze, and a deep, unaccustomed pain formed in her breast. “Dia leat,” she said under her breath. God be with you.

She had to find that bloody stone.

Sybella quickly made her excuses to Rosalia and Aunt Iseabail. She opened the door to Alex’s chamber, thinking her husband’s room might be a good place to start. When a pang of guilt washed over her, she immediately pushed the feeling aside. In order to have a future, she reminded herself that she needed to correct the past.

She walked over to the stone fireplace and lifted the portrait of Alexander’s father. A chill shot down her spine when she touched the painting. If a bolt of lightning had struck her where she stood, she wouldn’t have been surprised. She rubbed her fingers along the rough stone wall where everything felt solid, secure. Nothing shook in its place.

She approached the giant bed with its tall corner posts and ran her fingers over the blankets. Every time she had been close with Alex had been in her own bed, and she wondered what it would be like to sleep—or not sleep—in his. He was a powerful laird. She couldn’t help but remember him as he touched her, satisfied her. She hungered from the memory of his mouth on hers. In spite of the task at hand, thoughts of him intruded.

She shook her head, hurtled back to earth as reality struck.

“Find the stone, Sybella,” she said out loud. She lowered herself to the floor and felt for an indentation or anything that moved under the bed. “Find the stone and put an end to this madness once and for all.”

She stood and brushed off her skirts. “Of course this couldnae be an easy task,” she said, tapping her finger to her lip. “Where would ye keep something like that, Husband?”

Sybella looked around the room but nothing stood out at her. She moved the table by the bed and even looked underneath. She opened Alex’s trunk and searched through his clothing. Absolutely nothing. If he wouldn’t keep the stone in his chamber, where would he keep it?

She remembered Colin’s words.

The library.

Placing her ear to the bedchamber door, she first listened for anyone who might be in the hall. She stepped out and closed the door. With hastened steps, Sybella made her way to the library. Colin was probably right. A hollowed-out book was a great place to hide the stone.

She made it to the library undetected and quickly closed the door. The last thing she wanted to be was disturbed. She approached the first shelf and picked up a book, fingering through the pages. It was just a book. She pulled out the next one and unfortunately had the same result. By the time Sybella had searched through some of the larger tomes, she realized she should have given up some time ago. The stone was obviously not in the library.

Something clicked in her mind.

Surely Alex wouldn’t hide the stone in the dungeon. The last place she wanted to be was there. She kept that revelation stored in the back of her mind. If she had no choice, she would be forced to check there—as a last resort, with all options exhausted. She cringed at the idea of returning to that unsavory pit of hell.

Sybella rubbed her brow. There was a lot of space to cover in this castle, and worse yet, she searched by herself. What if she couldn’t find the stone? She refused to think about that and hastily made her way to Alex’s study, his private domain.

With its masculine touches, the room reminded her of him. The MacDonell crest hung on the wall behind a large wooden desk, and a shield with matching swords hung on the opposite wall. When she spotted another shelf lined with books, she held hope that maybe her luck hadn’t run out yet.

She picked up the first book and flipped through the pages. She was so frustrated that she wanted to scream. All of the books were simply that. Books. She ran her fingers behind the MacDonell crest and didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. At this rate, her search was going to take forever. She walked to the opposite wall and ran her hand behind the shield and swords, hastily pulling back her finger when a sharp blade cut her.

Damn! Sybella sat down in the chair behind the desk and looked for something to wrap her finger. Why were the smallest cuts always the worst? She placed her finger to her lips and rifled through Alex’s desk. What was this? She pulled out a flask and sniffed the contents. Her suspicion was correct. She briefly wondered if this was the infamous MacGregor ale that her husband had spoken about. There was only one way to find out.

She brought the liquid to her lips and let the fiery concoction burn its way down her throat. Plagued with a coughing fit, she replaced the ale in the drawer. Let the men have their drink. Her stomach could barely tolerate it. She pressed both hands over her eyes as if they stung with weariness. Praise the saints. What if she had overlooked something where she’d already searched? Her task was quickly turning into a nightmare.

Leaving Alexander’s study the way she had found it, Sybella walked out into the hall. Time was most definitely not on her side. It was almost time to sup, which meant Rosalia and Aunt Iseabail would be in the great hall. Sybella suddenly found the perfect opportunity to act like a thief in the night.

Sybella reached Rosalia’s room and knocked on the door. When no one answered, she ducked inside. Seeing Lachlann’s little tunics made Sybella cringe. What kind of person had she become to resort to this? She was not this type of woman, and guilt slowly crept back to plague her.

If she didn’t find the stone, Alexander would not be safe. Once she delivered the stone to her father, the man would have no choice but to call off his minions. She still found it hard to fathom that her sire had tried to kill her husband because she had yet to deliver the stone. With a steely resolve, she realized there was no question. She had to do this. Failure was not an option.

Following the same ritual as in Alex’s chamber, Sybella searched under the bed, checking for anything that moved or was out of place. She moved the table, checked behind the tapestry, examined the stone fireplace. Not a damn thing. With frustration mounting, Sybella opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

She jumped.

“What are ye doing in my chambers, Lady MacDonell?”

* * *

“It seems nae long ago when I rode by your side to free my cousin,” said Alex.

MacGregor rode up beside him. “I was thinking the same. Why do ye think these cowardly men target our women, MacDonell? The bastards have nay honor and donna fight like men. They hide behind the skirts of a lass and use our women as pawns.”

“Things arenae as they once were. I wonder if His Majesty will eventually send his men into the Highlands. The MacKenzie seems to think that if the MacLeods arenae brought to heel, the king’s guard will travel to Lewis. I donna understand how there can be peace when clans such as the MacLeods of Lewis and the bloody Campbells are about.”

“We are Highlanders. We administer justice the way we see fit. That is the way of it. And the MacLeod will be judged verra soon. The king cannae see fault with that.”

“I hope ye’re right. I grow tired of men who would do anything only for the purpose of political gain.”