her shoulders. He nibbled on her earlobe. And then he pulled back and gave her a peck on the top of the head.
“If I donna stop now, I will keep ye chained to this bed all day. I really enjoyed being with ye, but I must get dressed and prepare for travel.”
She raised herself up on her elbow. “For
“Your father has arranged passage for me to Lewis—in three days.”
Sybella paled.
Three days. Sybella had three days to find that bloody stone.
Fear and anger knotted inside her. If she didn’t discover that dreaded rock by then, she would be forced to tell Alexander the truth. He was entering into a war that was not his own, caused by her father, no less. Not only had her sire made an attempt on Alex’s life, but now her husband would be marked as an enemy of the MacLeods for killing their chief—who had never tried to kill her to begin with.
God help her. Alex would never trust her once he learned the truth. Frankly, she wasn’t sure what he’d do, and for the first time in her life, she was afraid. Her only hope was to find the stone, deliver it to her father, and pray the man would do the right thing and stop Alex from going to Lewis.
She rose from the bed and wrapped herself with a blanket. “I will do anything I can to assist ye.”
Alex stood and donned his kilt. “Thank ye, but there is naught ye can do. I must meet with John and MacGregor. While I travel to Lewis, MacGregor will stay behind. He will see to your welfare.”
She walked around the bed and faced him. “I donna want Ciaran to look after me. I want ye.”
“Ye flatter me, lass, but I have nay choice. I must travel to Lewis.”
All Sybella could manage to do was nod.
“Donna look so troubled. I will return before ye know it.” He sat on the bed and put on his boots. “As ye said, I am a fierce Highland laird.”
She smiled but knew the smile did not quite reach her eyes.
He moved in an instinctive gesture of comfort. “Ye worry overmuch. I will be fine. Why donna ye take a walk to the loch? I am sure my cousin and Aunt Iseabail would love to go with ye.” He bent his head and kissed her lips. “I shall meet up with ye later.”
She watched her husband close the door and then she pivoted on her heel. Sybella practically ran into her chamber, splashed cold water on her face, and dressed. For a moment, she thought about not breaking her fast, but she knew that if she didn’t show up, someone would come looking for her. She would just eat quickly and resume her purpose. Curse her father and brother. In truth, she wasn’t sure how many more times she could.
Sybella walked to the great hall, running over her mission in her head. She’d already searched the library, the study, and the bedchambers, and she still needed to continue her search in the ladies’ solar. At least she had an idea of where to start.
As she entered the great hall, everyone was seated for the meal. Her husband rose in a gentlemanly fashion and pulled out her chair.
“Ella.” His voice was low and deep.
She lifted her brow. “Alexander.” She sat down next to Rosalia, who held Lachlann on her lap. The boy smiled when Rosalia kissed his rosy cheeks. “How do ye fare? I see ye live,” Sybella said.
Rosalia giggled. “I am well. And ye?”
“The same.”
Rosalia nodded to Ciaran. “I donna think we got ourselves into too much trouble last eve, did we?”
Ciaran’s hand froze midair as he was about to take a drink from his tankard. “I think MacDonell and I agree ’tis the last time we leave your
Aunt Iseabail’s eyes widened. “Whatever do ye mean?”
“Ciaran…” Rosalia warned.
He leaned forward, resting his arm on the table. “It seems our women entertained themselves last eve by getting knee deep in their cups and then practicing swordplay in the ladies’ solar…with their daggers.”
Aunt Iseabail gasped and held her hand over her heart. “Truly? I must admit I am a wee bit surprised at the two of ye. Why would ye want to scrape up your daggers? I would’ve grabbed the swords from Alex’s study. After drinking three cups of ale, I was somewhat astonished I made it to my own chamber last eve in one piece.”
Alex rubbed his brow. “Ye too, Aunt Iseabail? For the love of God, ye women must stop encouraging one another.”
“Ye are far too serious, Nephew. ’Tis a good thing to have a lighthearted attitude every once in a while. It cleanses the soul. Ye might find it would even do ye some good.”
Ciaran grunted. “Aye, MacDonell. We should get in our cups more often and then practice swordplay…in the ladies’ solar.”
Rosalia elbowed Ciaran in the ribs. “Cease.”
Sybella finished her meal and tried to keep her mind still, a hard task when Alex was so close. Although she’d thoroughly enjoyed last eve, she couldn’t afford to be distracted by romantic notions. And God help her, the man’s nearness made her senses spin.
Finally, Alex stood and then bent and nuzzled her ear. “I will see ye later, Wife.”
As she watched him walk away with MacGregor by his side, memories from last eve started to flood her. She mentally chided herself. She needed to quit dreaming and make her escape.
Shifting in the chair toward Rosalia, Sybella spoke as casually as she could manage. “’Tis a lovely day. Alex thought mayhap we should walk with Aunt Iseabail to the loch. The fresh air might do her some good.”
Rosalia nodded. “’Tis a wonderful idea. What say ye,
“I donna mean to keep putting ye off, but I will have to join ye later,” said Sybella. “I promised Anabel something and I havenae yet started.”
“Verra well.” Rosalia rose with Lachlann in her arms. “Let me change him first,
To say that Sybella felt guilty did not reflect the agony she felt with herself. She despised what she had become, resorting to spinning tales. And it bothered her to speak of Anabel that way. No matter, once she found the stone, her father would have to leave her and Alex alone. Her sire wouldn’t have any other choice in the matter. She would make certain.
Sybella reached the solar and closed the door behind her. Glancing around the room, she saw a book sitting on the table next to her dagger. After fingering through the pages the second time, she knew there was nothing odd. She tapped the book in her hand and noticed two pictures that hung on the wall.
One portrait depicted a woman with long reddish hair, her flowing emerald gown blowing in the gentle wind. The picture to Sybella’s right looked like the same woman in a sapphire gown, bending down to pick up a yellow flower.
Sybella lifted the first picture from the wall. She brushed her fingertips over the stone and felt for any movement or indentation. Nothing. She replaced the painting and then removed the second picture with the same result. She had never felt so frustrated in her life. Where the hell was the stone? At this rate, she would never uncover it.
She looked at the shelf that held the cups, under, over—not a damn thing. She moved the chairs, lifted the table, and even checked the floor. She refused to believe that this was a hopeless cause and forced herself to settle down. Who knew? Perhaps Aunt Iseabail held the stone in her chamber.
After putting things back in their rightful places, Sybella closed the door and made her way to Aunt Iseabail’s chamber. Once she was inside, she straightened her spine and got down to the task at hand. She pulled out everything from Aunt Iseabail’s trunk, searching through her clothes, jewelry box, anything and everything.
After realizing her hunt was another unsuccessful jaunt, Sybella stood and stretched her back. All of Aunt Iseabail’s dresses were scattered across the bed; the woman’s jewelry box had been dismantled; and the room was in complete disarray. Sybella had done it now. With her luck or lack thereof, Rosalia and Aunt Iseabail would return from their walk and catch her in the act.
She hastily replaced Aunt Iseabail’s belongings and made her way to the only other place she could think of
