for added impact. “And so does your kiss.”
She colored fiercely.
“My laird, my apologies for the interruption, but might I have a word?”
Alex gave Sybella a wry smile. “Pray excuse me but a moment.” He looked at John, who stood with a blank expression on his face. John nodded Alex out into bailey.
“I see ye’ve found your wife,” said John. “Where was she?”
“I must have missed her. She took a walk in the garden.”
John’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what she told ye, or did ye see her?”
“What are ye talking about?” Alex crossed his arms over his chest. When John didn’t answer him, Alex repeated the question.
“Your wife wasnae in the garden.”
Alex’s eyes widened and he shook his head, puzzled. “What do ye mean she wasnae in the garden?”
“I stood upon the wall and I saw her with my own eyes.”
There was a heavy moment of silence.
John was never one to make a play with words. For some reason, his friend’s behavior unnerved Alex. “Well, out with it. If she wasnae in the garden, where was she?”
“The dungeon.”
Sybella closed the door to her bedchamber and threw up her hands. She couldn’t believe it. All of that hunting for the stone, and the darned thing was under her feet the entire time. How many times had she walked over the MacDonell crest? Of course Alex’s father would want to openly display his victory.
Men and their trophies.
All of this uproar—over a rock. A small part in the back of Sybella’s mind had hoped she wouldn’t find the stone and that her father was simply wrong. But now that she’d uncovered her family’s sacred seeing stone, she knew the truth of the matter. And to think, the rock had been under her father’s nose the entire time. God’s teeth! MacKenzie men had even slept upon the floor. Had her sire discovered the stone during her wedding…She shuddered at the thought. There would’ve been a massacre.
She walked over to the desk and sat down. Now that she had found the stone, she needed to make certain that Alex and his clan would be safe. Everything was now in her favor, but she still found it necessary to proceed with caution. She penned a missive to Colin, short and to the point. Once her brother read her words, he would tell her father. And she only prayed her sire would cease this madness, call off his hounds, and stop Alex from traveling to Lewis and killing an innocent MacLeod.
There was a knock on Sybella’s door and she opened it to find the messenger. She handed the man the missive. “Take this to Kintail and deliver it only to my brother, Colin. Show it to nay one else. Do ye understand?”
“Aye, m’lady.”
She watched the messenger depart and then closed the door. She lay down on the bed and sighed. In a few days this would all be over and perhaps she could start to act like the wife Alex deserved. She made a mental promise to herself that there would be no more lies between them. Knowing she had ultimately betrayed his trust, bouts of guilt continued to plague her more often than not. This whole turn of events needed to be over. Soon.
“Are ye sure?” Alex asked John for the hundredth time.
“Aye.”
Alex ran his hand through his hair. “What the hell would she be doing in the dungeon?” He paused. “And why would she lie to me?”
“I donna know.” John kept his face consciously guarded and Alex knew it.
Alex was laird, supposed to be in charge, supposed to know everything that occurred under his own roof. And if he was a good laird, he should even be able to predict things before they’d happen. The mere fact that he did not know what was going on with his own wife angered him.
He walked to Sybella’s bedchamber and didn’t even bother to knock. He simply entered through the adjoining door. She lay upon the bed, her golden locks spread out around her.
“Ella.”
She sat up abruptly. “Alex.”
“When ye told me that ye took a walk in the garden, did ye?” He folded his arms over his chest. “I will have the truth.”
Her eyes widened. “Of course I did. Why do ye ask?”
“Some of my men saw ye…leaving the dungeon.”
Her thin fingers tensed in her lap. She looked away hastily and then moved restlessly.
“Ye will answer me, and I am nae leaving until ye do.”
She looked up at him and spoke tentatively as if testing an idea. “Aye, I was in the dungeon, but I also went to the garden.”
“Why? ’Tis nay place for a woman. Ye have nay reason to be down there.”
Sybella patted the bed beside her. “Please sit, Alex.”
He sat down beside her and waited for her explanation while she chewed her lip and gathered her thoughts.
“I wanted to see it.” As he was about to open his mouth, Sybella continued. “I wanted to see where ye kept the man.”
He paused. “I told ye. He is dead.”
“I understand that, but I had to see it for myself.”
“Och, lass.” He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Ye have naught to fear. Although I take my leave to Lewis, ye have my word as your husband that ye are safe, Ella. MacGregor will be here with ye. He has Rosalia and Lachlann. He will nae let any harm befall ye and Aunt Iseabail. And now ye saw for yourself that the man is dead and gone.”
She lowered her gaze. “I must ask this of ye.” For a moment, she was silent. “Are ye certain it was the MacLeod? What if the MacLeod wasnae the man responsible?”
Alex sighed. “Ella, the archer wore the MacLeod tartan. If nae a MacLeod, why would the man wear the clan colors?” He pulled her close. “Donna fear. When I return from Lewis, this will all be over. Until then, I donna want ye thinking upon such things.”
She pulled back and brought her hand to his cheek. There was a spark of some unidentifiable emotion in her eyes. She looked as though she wanted to say something, but when he nodded for her to continue, she simply brushed her lips to his.
He pulled back and gave her a gentle smile. “I wish there was something I could say to ease your worry.”
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and simply embraced him.
Sybella wanted to tell Alex everything—how she was stupid enough to let her conniving father and brother convince her to search for the stone, how her marriage was all a bittersweet scheme to plot revenge, and how much she truly loved him. But until she got rid of that damned rock, she had to hold back. Nothing was for certain, and she couldn’t afford to take the chance.
As she sat next to Alex and Rosalia for the eve meal, she forced her eyes not to look at the MacDonell crest on the floor. For if she did, she was afraid her actions would betray her purpose.
“What are ye making for Anabel?” asked Rosalia.
“I am stitching a scarf. And I must admit, I am nae verra good at it.”
Rosalia giggled. “Aye, I know the feeling all too well.”
