that could hold the stone.
The unsavory pit of hell.
A lady’s laugh wafted through the air, and Alex watched as Rosalia, Lachlann, and Aunt Iseabail returned from their walk. With the sun shining brightly and no clouds in sight, no wonder the women laughed. A gentle breeze blew through the bailey and MacGregor lifted his son in the air.
Alex waited a moment, finishing his conversation with John. When Sybella did not appear, Alex walked over to his cousin. “
“She didnae come with us. She had something to do for Anabel. We did have a good time with Lachlann, though,” said Rosalia.
Aunt Iseabail rubbed her hand over Lachlann’s tiny back. “He is such a good lad.” Turning her head toward Rosalia, Aunt Iseabail looked puzzled. “What was it, my dear, that I was supposed to tell Alexander?”
“I donna know. Ye only told me to remind ye to tell Alex something. I think it was about Sybella.”
Aunt Iseabail tapped her finger to her lip. “And ye say Sybella is with Anabel?”
Alex rubbed his hand over Aunt Iseabail’s shoulder. “Nay, I think she is making something for Anabel.”
His aunt giggled. “I would love to see that, especially since your wife doesnae even know how to stitch.”
“Pray excuse me while I drag her away from whatever she’s doing. ’Tis too wonderful of a day nae to be out in the sun.”
Alex knocked on Sybella’s bedchamber door. When no one answered, he walked to the ladies’ solar—and found it empty. He had the same result with the parapet, the kitchens, and the garden.
He walked back out into the bailey and ran into John. “Have ye seen my wife?”
John chuckled. “Have ye lost her?”
“Search the grounds. She isnae inside.”
“Aye.”
Something gnawed at Alex’s gut. Sybella knew not to leave the castle without telling anyone. It was too dangerous after the MacLeod’s attempt on her life. But if his wife was not in the castle, where the hell was she?
Sybella found her way into the dungeon much easier than the first time. Since hell currently held no occupants, no guard slept at the entrance. Once again, she descended the stairs and was greeted with a chill. It was cold and damp, and she paused only long enough to light the torch.
“Welcome back to the pit of hell, Sybella,” she said aloud. “Find the bloody stone or this is where ye will reside for the rest of your days.” She held up the light, pausing. “I can do this. I can do this,” she repeated for confidence.
The same unidentifiable muck lay upon the ground, and the chamber smelled of something rotten, decayed. She didn’t want to think about any more of that. She held up the torchlight to the heavy stone walls and iron bars that lined the narrow center walkway. She inched her way to the first door and held up the candle between the bars. As before, she waited a moment until the flickering light stilled.
She opened the door and walked in. There was no time to worry about what was there. Examining the walls, she ran her hand across the cool, slimy stone. She took one section at a time slowly, carefully. She did not want to come back here in the event she had overlooked something.
Sybella made her way to the second door, trying to ignore the shackles that lined the wall. The smell and overwhelming sense of dread would surely be her undoing, but she imposed an iron control on herself to continue. Following the same ritual she did in the first cell, quickly and as thoroughly as possible, she finished and made her way to the last door.
Praise the saints. Was that dried blood? When she became light-headed, she had no choice but to place her hand on the grimy wall for support. She paused for a moment when saliva pooled in her mouth. She wanted to take a deep breath but willed herself not to move, afraid she’d toss her contents.
She fought hard against the tears she refused to let fall, and for an instant, she almost gave up. But then she waved aside any further hesitation and entered the last cell where the MacKenzie man had been held and, God help her, died.
Damn.
“
When she didn’t uncover the stone, Sybella extinguished the torch at the foot of the stairs. She climbed the steps, and as soon as sunlight bathed her face, she lifted her cheeks into the light and took a deep, penetrating breath. She felt relief to be out of the dungeon, but panic welled inside her because she still hadn’t found the stone.
She looked up and spotted the men who walked the wall. In her best interest, she decided to move. She’d searched the library, study, solar, bedchambers, and dungeon. Surely Alex wouldn’t hide the stone in the kitchens. The servants were in there all the time. She was running out of places to look.
Sybella walked into the great hall and was halted by the sound of an angry voice.
“Where have ye been?”
She turned to see Alex standing with his hands on his hips. “Alex, I…was searching for ye.”
He closed the distance between them. “I have been looking for ye everywhere. Where were ye?”
“I was in the garden for a while.”
“The garden? I thought ye were making something for Anabel.”
She wrung her hands nervously. “Anabel, aye. I was stitching something for her and then decided to take a walk.”
Alex froze.
Sybella became increasingly uneasy under his scrutiny and muttered, “I missed ye, Husband.” She tried to depict an ease that she didn’t necessarily feel.
She lowered her gaze to the floor and studied the MacDonell crest, every line, every curve. She suddenly found the clan crest utterly fascinating. The black raven was perched on a rock, engraved with sleek curves. The words “
And that’s when she saw it.
The eyes of the raven looked…different. One stone was whole and of a black pearl color, and the other was brown with a hole in the middle, exactly as Colin and her father had described it. God’s teeth! She’d found the bloody stone.
When Alex spotted his wife in the great hall, he was relieved but somewhat confused. How could he have missed her when he searched the gardens, and why wouldn’t she seek out Rosalia and Aunt Iseabail to take a walk? The lass behaved as if she would rather be by herself than enjoying the company of his clan.
Perhaps Sybella had grown tired of his kin the same as he had grown tired of hers. And worse yet, she presently couldn’t meet his eyes. He didn’t mean for his tone to sound so accusatory, but he was troubled when he couldn’t find her, especially after the attempts on her life.
He raised her chin with his finger. “I was worried about ye, Ella. I searched the castle, and when I couldnae find ye…”
She became instantly wide awake and threw herself into his arms. “Oh, Alex.” She pulled down his head and kissed him with passion. He wasn’t sure if it was the words he spoke, but her mood was suddenly buoyant.
Wrapping his arms around her midriff, he lowered his hands, pulling her bottom close. She needed to feel what she did to him. When he remembered he was in the middle of the great hall, he pulled back and gave her a roguish grin. “’Tis too early to seek our bed.”
“Aye, but that doesnae mean I cannae steal a kiss from my husband.” She broke into a wide, open smile.
He leaned in close. “Ye can kiss me whenever ye’d like. Your body tastes like sweetened honey.” He paused
