Highland Wolf (12 page)

“About this lass Annora,” began Tormand.

“She is the one, Tormand. That perfect match, that mate we are all told awaits us.”

Tormand swore. “Are ye sure? Didnae ye think that Mary was the one?”

“Nay, I ne’er did, but I was weary of waiting and I liked and desired Mary. I thought she would make a good wife and give me the bairns I craved. I should have heeded what so many of the Murrays say and kept on waiting. ’Tis just a hard thing to accept, though. I dinnae think any mon really likes the idea of being bound too tightly to any woman nay matter what pleasure there is in it.”

Tormand nodded. “And finding her has made ye e’en more anxious to clear your name and get Dunncraig back.”

“Aye, e’en though I would ne’er have thought I could want that more than I already did. What she does do is make me cease thinking so much on avenging myself against MacKay and more on just trying to redeem my name and regain my lands so that I can set her at my side. I think more on simply making a safe and good life for her and Meggie.”

“Then we shall see that ye get that verra soon. Simon is the best, James. He has few equals in his ability to ferret out the truth, and when ’tis an innocent mon who has been wronged, he is e’en more tenacious. He has a deep sense of justice. We will end this and set MacKay at the end of a rope where he belongs.”

When James nodded and started to make his way back to Dunncraig, Tormand leaned against the wall of Edmund’s shop and watched him. It startled him a little when Simon suddenly stood at his side, for he had not heard the man approach. Tormand idly thought that Simon could make someone a verra dangerous enemy.

“Do ye think he is right to trust the woman?” asked Simon.

“’Tis nay just James who trusts her. Edmund and Ida do as weel,” replied Tormand.

Simon slowly nodded but he frowned. “I am reluctant to trust a woman who has shared his bed. A mon can be so easily fooled and blinded by soft words and passion.”

Tormand wondered what had happened to Simon to make him so reluctant to trust a woman, but he did not ask the man. “James firmly believes that Annora MacKay is his mate, his match, the perfect woman for him. The one that shall complete his life and put his soul at ease. Ye best nay question her honor again, for he willnae tolerate it.”

“His mate?”

“Aye.” Tormand grinned. “’Tis a hard thing for a mon to understand and I cannae
say I like the idea of it, but many of our clan feel strongly that there is such a thing as a mate, a match for each of us that is just right. Some e’en claim they can tell the right one from little more than a moment’s look and a few words. James may nay be a Murray by blood, none of my family is as my father was a fostered son as weel, but we seem to share that instinct.” He shrugged. “When men like James foil so miserably in a marriage with a woman all would say was perfect for a laird, one has to wonder if there is some truth in the opinions of so many others—Mary wasnae the right match.”

“Annora MacKay is?”

That is what James believes.”

Then let us pray he is right, for if he feels as ye say he does, then he will soon be telling her all about us.”

Annora was almost asleep when the soft, rhythmic rapping James used sounded at her door. She stumbled out of bed and went to open the door. In the dark it took her a moment to unlatch it, but James was quick to slip inside, shut it, and latch it again. She ignored the soft scolding voice in her head telling her that this was all wrong. There was no denying that it was, for it went against every lesson and warning a maid was given as she neared womanhood, but she wanted to spend every moment she could with James. She would pay her penances later.

“What? No lit candles and wine to greet your mon?” he teased as he picked her up in his arms and carried her to her bed.

She smiled as he shed his clothes with a speed she began to think was his custom and crawled into bed beside her. A moment later her night shift went fluttering to the floor. James had little respect for her modesty. Only the fact that it felt so good to be skin to skin with him kept her from complaining about the way he so rapidly got her naked.

“Ye seem to be in a verra cheerful mood,” she murmured, squirming a little in a rising pleasure as he stroked her legs.

“Verra cheerful and I have fairly been chewing wood in my eagerness to get to ye so that I could tell ye my news. My brother and a king’s mon are in the village.”

Annora did not find the news that a king’s man now knew where James was to be very good news at all. “A king’s mon? Isnae that dangerous for ye? He cannae just ignore the fact that ye have been declared an outlaw.”

“Ah, but he can. He ne’er agreed with the decree and he thinks your cousin kenned that he wouldnae, e’en kenned that Simon might have talked the king and his advisers out of naming me an outlaw. But it seems Simon wasnae at court that day.”

“Oh, and ye think Donnell kenned that and that was why he was so quick to get in to see the king and demand ye pay for the murder of your wife?”

“I do and so does Sir Simon Innes, the king’s mon. My brother Tormand and he will stay in the village and try to find out a few things that may help us prove that MacKay is the one who should be running and hiding.”

Annora had a lot of questions she wished to ask about these new allies of theirs, but James began to kiss her breasts and all her ability to think dearly vanished. When she tried to participate in their lovemaking, he captured her wrists in his hand and held her arms down at her sides. She lay helpless beneath him but had no complaint as he covered her breasts with kisses, teased her hardened nipples with his tongue, and suckled at each breast until she thought she would scream from the pleasure of it.

When he began to trail kisses down her stomach, she was almost relieved, for the madness he stirred within her, that desperate craving, faded just a little. Then, suddenly, his mouth was there, right where she ached for him. She tensed for a moment, such an intimacy startling and discomforting her, but then he began to kiss her and caress her with his tongue. With each intimate caress the tension born of her embarrassment and modesty fled and was rapidly replaced with a blinding need. Desire filled her whole body and the hunger she had for him grew so strong she trembled with it.

Realizing she was close to that moment of blind delight, she called out his name, needing him to be inside her when she was swept away to that place of bliss where only he could take her. He slowly kissed his way up her body. The moment his mouth covered hers, he thrust inside her and she screamed into his mouth as she broke apart. Each hard thrust of his body only intensified the pleasure as wave after wave of a fierce release ripped through her. She was only vaguely aware of him reaching his own completion and groaning her name against her mouth before she sank into a warm oblivion.

James grinned at the way Annora barely twitched when he washed her clean. She was still so limp with sated pleasure she was nearly unconscious. He climbed back into her bed and pulled her up against him, her firm, well-rounded backside fitting perfectly against his groin. He never would have believed that the quiet, sweet Annora he had met when first coming back to Dunncraig would turn out to be such a passionate lover. The fact that his lovemaking could send her into a near swoon soothed every wound inflicted by Mary’s coldness.

He kissed her shoulder and she murmured her pleasure at the touch. “I had best nay stay the full night,” he said.

“Nay, I suspicion that wouldnae be wise.” Annora could not hide her regret over that necessity. She loved having his big, warm body curled around her, and her bed would feel very cold and empty when he left it.

“I ken I should stay away completely but I cannae. So I will do what little my weak will allows to protect ye.”

“From Egan?”

“I dinnae think your cousin would be too pleased about this, either, do ye?”

She shivered at the mere thought of Donnell discovering that she had taken a lover. “Nay. He feels it his right to rut with any maid who catches his eye, but he would be enraged if he thought I was nay longer a maid. I dinnae think that would be just because he felt I had spoiled myself for Egan, either. From all I have observed Donnell wants all women he desires to be whores, but his kinswomen have to be as pure as newly fallen snow. He takes it as a personal insult if they are not.”

“Weel, a lot of men think that, but I suspicion Donnell’s reaction to ye allowing me into your bed could be deadly.”

She turned in his arms to face him. “Aye, but I think it would be ye he would be eager to see killed more than me. I am nay so sure that Egan would feel the same, though.”

“Hush, lass,” he said and kissed her. “The danger was there from the start. We will just be verra careful. The fact that ye are seen as a sweet, innocent maid will protect us some. No one would suspect that ye are a passionate woman who can drive a mon to madness in the bedchamber.”

“I believe the madness is shared,” she said quietly and then asked, “So, what did ye, your brother, and this Simon Innes fellow talk about?”

“About how I may get my good name, my lands, and my daughter back and how they might help me do it. I think Simon may be feeling a wee bit guilty that he wasnae there to try to stop the decree of outlawry from being issued. My brother Tormand also says that Simon is a mon with a verra strong sense of justice, and justice has been severely abused in this matter. So I told them all we had found out and they mean to find out more. I also told them of those possibilities we discussed, including the fact that my wife betrayed me.”

“I am sorry ye had to expose that hurt to those men.”

“A little embarrassment o’er being seen as a blind fool is a small price to pay if those two find me the proof I need to be free again.”

“If it helps to ease your sense of embarrassment, many of us were fooled by Mary. I didnae ken her verra weel, but everyone always spoke of her as being sweet, shy, and quiet. A perfect lady who knew her place and fulfilled all her duties with skill and patience.” Annora could recall having Mary MacKay held up to her as an example she could follow all too often.

“Do ye ken? E’en though ’tis what I thought I wished for in a wife, when ye speak of how she was seen by others, she sounds a verra boring sort of woman.” He grinned at her. “Now, ye are a verra exciting woman. Aye, and a verra warm one.”

When he began to kiss her neck, Annora began to feel even warmer. “I thought ye said ye couldnae stay the night.”

“I cannae but the night is still verra young.”

It was only a few hours until dawn, but since his skillful hands were turning her blood to fire, Annora decided she would be a great fool to argue with him.

“An—nor—a!”

Annora started in surprise as that clear childish voice echoed through the wood. She looked around and realized that Meggie was no longer close at hand helping her to collect moss. For a moment Annora was terrified for any number of horrible things could have happened to the child, but even as she leapt to her feet, she realized that there had been no hint of fear or pain in Meggie’s voice.

“An—nor—a!”

“Where are ye, Meggie?” Annora yelled.

“O’er here!”

Turning toward the sound of the child’s voice, Annora finally caught sight of Meggie and was relieved that she was not as far away as she had feared. The child was standing by a huge tree that had almost as many dead limbs as live ones. Annora idly thought that she should tell someone about that, for it would provide some much needed firewood. Inwardly shaking her head over the tendency of her mind to wander lately, she scowled at Meggie.

“Margaret Anne Drummond, ye ken verra weel that ye shouldnae wander about alone,” she said, struggling to sound as stern as possible even though the relief she had felt when she had realized the child was not in trouble still softened her voice.

“I have found something. Come see.”

With every step she took toward the child, Annora carefully planned the lecture she would give Meggie. Most of the time Meggie was a good, obedient child who gave her little trouble, but Meggie also had a wide streak of curiosity that often led her astray. It was more important now than it had ever been before that Meggie stay close at hand. Donnell had made it clear that he knew he could use the child against Annora, and that meant that Egan probably knew it too or soon would. The raids Donnell and the Chisholms had led against their neighbors also promised that there were a lot of angry men surrounding Dunncraig lands who would like nothing better than to inflict some pain upon the laird who had done them so much harm.

“Look, Annora, I found a book in the tree,” Meggie said when Annora reached her side.

Annora looked at the leather-bound book Meggie held out to her, and the lecture she had meant to give the child fled her mind. She recognized what it was. It was the sort of book ladies liked to use to write down their thoughts or all the things that happened during the day. Not many women knew how to write well, so the little books were still a rare luxury. A luxury a woman like Mary might have had and thoroughly enjoyed. Annora was not surprised to see a slight tremor in her hand as she took the book from Meggie. She hastily thanked God that her guards, bored by watching her and Meggie collect moss, had wandered out of sight, for she sensed that this was a discovery that Donnell could not know about.

“It was all wrapped up in this cloth and stuck inside this tree. I was running and I tripped and I fell down right near the tree hole and I looked into the hole and there it was. Can ye read it to me?”

Glancing at the heavy oiled leather cloth the book had been wrapped in, Annora was not surprised at what a good condition it was in. Whoever had hidden it had wanted to be certain it survived. That implied that it held some information the woman felt would
be important to someone. As far as Annora knew, there was really only one thing that had happened at Dunncraig in the last few years that was worth writing about. Hiding the book in which the truth had been written might be
the
worst crime that had been committed against James.

Carefully opening the book, Annora read the few words written on the very first page and felt her heart stop only to quickly start again, its pace so rapid that she felt a little light-headed. The book was a gift from Mary’s mother, given to Mary on her wedding day, or, as her mother wrote,
the first day of your life as a lady, a wife, and, praise be to God, a mother
.

“I am nay sure any of this will be of interest to ye, Meggie,” Annora finally replied, amazed at how light and calm her voice was, for inside she was shaking with hope and the intense need to get someplace private and read the book. “’Tis a lady’s book in which she lists all the things she does every day.”
And since that lady was your mother who may well have betrayed your father, what is written in here is most definitely not for your tender ears
, Annora thought.

“Oh.” Mary made a face indicating her disgust. “Why would a lady bother to write all that down? Everyone kens what a lady does.” Meggie picked up the oiled leather cloth and stuck it in the small sack she carried. “Ye would think she would write about interesting things.”

“Weel, if I find anything interesting in the book I will be certain to tell ye all about it. And, Meggie, m’love, I think it might be best if ye dinnae tell anyone about this book until I ken whose it is and what it says. It was hidden away in that tree for a reason and I think I need to find out what that reason is before we let anyone ken what ye found.”

Meggie frowned and then nodded. “Aye, it might have some secrets in it.”

“It might indeed, for that would certainly explain why it was hidden.”

“I willnae say anything. Can I keep the cloth if I say I found it in the woods?”

“Aye, that isnae truly a lie, is it? Ye did find it in the wood. Just dinnae tell anyone what ye found wrapped inside it. Come, let us return to collecting the moss we need and then we can return to Dunncraig to clean up.”

It was difficult to remain calm as she and Meggie returned to the tedious chore of collecting plants needed for healing. However, since Donnell had begun raiding his neighbors, there were a lot more wounds to tend to. What Annora ached to do was read the journal she slipped into her bag. She had not looked at any more than the first page, but she could swear she felt Mary in the book. She hoped it was not her imagination, that Mary had indeed written a lot in the little book, and that there would be some answers to all the questions she and James had. They certainly needed a few. Annora just hoped that the answers did not cause James even more pain than he had already suffered.

“I cannae let him see this,” Annora told the purring cat sprawled on her lap.

Annora stared at the book in her hands and wondered about what she should do now. The journal only hinted at Donnell’s plans, for Mary was obviously not interested in how she got what she wanted, but the woman made it very clear over and over again that she had married James only because Donnell had wanted her to. It was difficult for Annora to see Donnell as a lover who could enthrall a woman so completely that she would do the sort of things Mary had done for him. Annora saw him very clearly for the vain brute that he was. Mary had also made her distaste for sharing James’ bed viciously
clear in several entries, and Annora did not want James to read those cruel words.

“Ah, Mungo, I just dinnae ken what to do. Aye, this confirms that Donnell and Mary were lovers e’en before she married James. ’Tis clear that James didnae notice his bride’s lack of innocence, but mayhap there is some trick Mary played. Yet, this book doesnae say verra much about the plot to be rid of James. A hint, nay more. And the writings end months before Mary was supposed to have died in that fire. Do ye ken, I think there must be another one of these little books hidden somewhere.”

Mungo butted his head against her hand in a silent demand and she started to scratch his ears. “I think I shall hide this one and begin a search for the other. There
has
to be another. From all I have just read, Mary was a woman who truly enjoyed writing down all her woes, real or imagined. She filled every tiny scrap of space on these pages.”

And a lot of it was nothing more than the whining of a spoiled child who did not get all she wanted, Annora thought crossly. Most women were married to men chosen by their families. Mary had at least been given a husband who was young, and handsome. Even more remarkable, she had had a husband who had believed in his vows and honored them, remaining faithful to her despite her often-expressed disgust over his lovemaking. Someone should have shaken some common sense into the woman, Annora decided. Instead, Mary had thought Donnell was her true love, the best of all men. The woman’s error in judgment had gotten her killed. Annora had absolutely no doubt about that.

Gently moving her softly snoring cat onto her bed, Annora decided to begin her search for the other journal. She was certain there was another one and she was equally as certain that it was hidden in some place Mary often went. Annora did want to think much about just why Mary might have gone into the woods a lot, often enough so that she would have found that rather clever hiding place. If the woman also went to the cottage a lot, there could be something hidden there, too. The fact that the cottage had burned to the ground did not necessarily mean a hidden journal had met the same fate.

She sighed as she left her bedchamber, pleased to see that her guards were gone, but worried about how long it might take to find the other journal and how often she would be free to look for it. For a moment her certainty faltered, but she quickly shook her head. Every instinct she had told her that there was another journal and that it held the sort of truths that could be used to free James. She had learned long ago to trust her instincts.

Suddenly Annora knew just who to ask about Mary’s favorite places, and she hurried down the stairs intending to get to the kitchen. She nearly cursed aloud when she turned a corner at the bottom of the steps and came face-to-face with Egan. As quickly as she could, she moved so that there was no wall close at hand. Annora did not want to be pinned against a wall or any other hard surface by Egan ever again. Where she now stood was also very public, the chance of someone coming by very high, and she hoped that would be enough to make Egan hesitate in trying to force himself on her.

“Where are your guards?” Egan demanded.

“I am only going to the kitchens,” she said calmly. “Why would I need guards there?” Annora suddenly feared that her guards would suffer dearly for allowing her to roam free, and that would make them far more vigilant just when she needed them to be increasingly lax.

She watched Egan’s eyes narrow as he struggled to give her an answer that would not reveal the true reason for having her constantly watched. Annora knew it was to keep
her from hearing anything that might make her question Donnell’s right to be laird of Dunncraig. Men with secrets always found it necessary to watch all those around them for some sign that their secrets were slipping free of their cage. She also knew that it was not something Donnell or Egan wished her to know. Although she was deeply insulted that they would think her too witless to guess why she was guarded so carefully, she also had to be glad of it. The less those two men thought she knew, the less danger she would be in.

“Ye need to be protected from the other men,” Egan said. “There may be some who dinnae ken that ye are mine.”

“I am nay yours,” she snapped.

“Aye, ye are. E’en Donnell says—”

“Egan, if I might speak to ye for a moment?” Donnell said in a cold, hard voice as he walked up to them. He looked at Annora in a way that made her inwardly shiver, as if he was blaming her for Egan’s too-free tongue. “Dinnae ye have something ye need to do?” he asked her in a voice so cold she nearly shivered.

Annora nodded and nearly ran to the kitchen. From what James had said, Egan was not supposed to tell her that she was now promised to Egan and it sounded like Donnell felt Egan had been about to disobey him. She doubted Egan would suffer too much for disobedience, for he and Donnell had been together ever since they were boys and knew far too many of each other’s secrets. However, the next few minutes would be very unpleasant for Egan. Annora knew she would have to be satisfied with that.

It took several moments after reaching the kitchens to find Big Marta. It took even longer to convince the woman to move to some place where they could talk privately. Big Marta’s curiosity finally got the best of her, however, and she led Annora to a tiny room at the rear of the kitchens where the more expensive food stores were kept, things such as spices and good wine.

“Now, what do ye wish to speak about?” asked Big Marta as she lit some candles and then shut the door to the room. “I was about to seek my bed, ye ken.” She nodded toward the back of the room.

Annora’s eyes widened when she saw the small bed. “Ye sleep in here?”

Big Marta shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Easier than walking back to town, trying to sleep in my son’s verra crowded home, and then walking all the way back here ere the sun has e’en risen. Smells better here, too. So, what did ye need to tell me that no one else could be hearing?”

“Actually, I need to ask ye a few questions about Mary,” Annora said.

“Why?”

“Because I think she was a verra big part of the plots and schemes which put my cousin’s arse in the laird’s chair here.”

“Oh? And just why would ye be thinking that?”

Annora could sense that the woman was fighting hard to keep something secret, to be cautious before she spoke. Big Marta knew something about Mary that she did not believe she ought to tell anyone, except perhaps James. Information would have to be shared with the woman before she would feel that she could trust Annora enough to tell her what she knew.

“Meggie found a wee book hidden in the hollow of an old tree,” Annora finally said.

“What kind of book?”

“One of those little ones ladies like to write in, to hide their secrets in, and to talk about their lives and all of its trials and joys.”

“A waste of expensive parchment, I am thinking,” grumbled Big Marta. “If the fool woman has secrets, it seems to me that the surest way to make verra certain everyone and his brother kens what the secrets are is to write them down in a wee book. Did ye read it, then?”

“Aye, I did, and the book belonged to Mary.” She nodded when Big Marta’s eyes widened more with anticipation than surprise. “Mary and Donnell were lovers. ’Tis made painfully clear in the journal.”

“Aye, they were lovers, and probably ere she married the laird.”

“A long time before.”

Big Marta shook her head and cursed softly. “Foolish, foolish woman. Aye, and a completely witless fool to write down all of her sins.”