Highland Wolf (6 page)

“Aye, he beats them but nay so badly that there is much damage,” Big Marta said quietly.

“And that is supposed to make me feel better?”

“Just said it to make ye nay try to do anything that might help them yet lose ye all else. Only once did MacKay become so enraged with Annora that he wasnae careful, but Egan pulled him away ere he could do too much damage. I took care of the lass then and it was bad, but naught was broken. Nay, not e’en her spirit. I realized then that she had some, quiet and weel hidden that it is. ’Tis what keeps her here. That and her love for wee Meggie.”

“I am nay finding out what I need to ken fast enough,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Ye didnae think the mon would leave a written confession lying out for all to see, did ye?”

“Impertinent wench.”

“Aye, and proud of it. The proof is there, I am sure of it. There is something or someone who can expose all that bastard’s lies and trickery.”

“Ye sound so sure of that.”

“I am. He is too careful. A mon that careful kens that there might be something out there that can hurt him. He is a mon who has secrets he needs to keep anyone from guessing.”

James just nodded as he watched Annora and Meggie play some skipping game around the back garden. “If I could prove my innocence, MacKay could then be hanged many times o’er for the killing of so many good men.”

Big Marta sighed heavily. “Aye, that was a verra dark time. I think I may ken where some of the few who escaped are hiding.”

A flicker of hope danced in James” heart, but he had had too many disappointments lately to allow it free rein. “Where?”

“I will ken the whole of it soon. Need to be careful about such things as I wouldnae want to be the one who caused the death of any of those few lucky ones who survived
MacKay’s arrival.”

“Nay, of course not.”

James sighed and started to turn back toward his workroom only to have Meggie suddenly look straight at him. She smiled at him and waved. James returned the gestures and then caught Annora staring at him. He could still taste her on his mouth, feel her soft curves in his arms, and hear her soft sighs in his ears. His dreams had been filled with the sort of images that left him hard with need when he woke. When Meggie looked at her, Annora gave him a hasty smile and a little wave before hurrying his child away.

For a moment James actually considered accepting the smiling offers that had been made by several of the maids. His body was starving for a woman, but he realized it wanted only one woman. In one way, that was a good thing, for dallying with a maid could all too easily prove a serious mistake, exposing him for the fraud he was. On the other hand, he was not sure he liked the fact that Annora MacKay held his body in thrall.

“She would be a good choice when ye are laird again,” Big Marta said quietly.

Refusing to blush over being caught staring longingly after Annora MacKay, James snorted and walked back into his workroom. “She is a MacKay.”

The noise Big Marta made clearly revealed the scorn with which she viewed that answer. “Only because her mother was. The lass hasnae been treated weel by her kin. She certainly hasnae been treated weel by this part of the family. She doesnae trust MacKay and hasnae from the start. And ye didnae think ye were the only one asking questions about the mon, did ye?”

Thinking of how he had caught Annora sneaking into MacKay’s ledger room, so obviously intent upon spying on the man’s writings, James just frowned. “Who else is? Aside from me and mayhap Annora MacKay?”

“Weel, your kinsmen tried but they couldnae get close enough.”

“Aye, and I made it clear that this was my trouble and they shouldnae risk their lives, at least until I had some way to prove that MacKay had committed the crime I was accused of.”

“Didnae stop them. But they couldnae get close. I dinnae ken how but MacKay could almost sniff them out. After a few times when your kinsmen barely escaped with their lives, I think they finally decided to sit back as ye had asked them to. I doubt they have done naught, though.”

“I doubt that, too. Unfortunately, the truth is hidden here. I am certain of it”

Big Marta nodded. “That it is, laddie. That it is. But, mayhap, it isnae hidden as weel as that bastard thinks it is. ’Tis muckle hard to keep something secret for long in a keep, isnae it? There is always someone who saw or heard something and one day they admit it.”

“Have ye heard something?”

“Whispers, laddie. Just whispers for now. I am keeping this old ear to the ground and will let ye ken when I hear more than a wee rumor or an I
think
.”

James sighed and nodded. He watched the woman disappear back into the kitchen and resisted the urge to drag her back and demand to hear what rumors she had heard, even every little suspicion. That was foolish and he knew it. He would not win his freedom with rumors and suspicions. Moving too quickly could also silence those who were doing the whispering and they might well lead to something he could use.

As he returned to his work he thought about Egan’s pursuit of Annora. It roused
something very primitive inside him, some chest-thumping thing that kept grunting
mine
. He would have to be careful there for several reasons. Egan could cause him to be thrown out of Dunncraig if he thought Annora had an interest in him, or worse. And Annora was such an innocent, he could hurt her feelings if he went from hot to cold and back again once too often.

He cursed and shook his head. No matter how much he told himself that it was bad to feel so attracted to Annora, the attraction did not fade. He had the sinking feeling that he had met his mate. There was a strong belief amongst his foster family the Murrays that everyone had a mate, and thus far, in the matches he had seen, there seemed to be some truth to that feeling. He had not had it with Mary, something that still stirred a deep feeling of guilt, but that strong sense of
mine
that came over him whenever he saw Annora MacKay made him think he may have found it with her.

Not only stupid but a very poor sense of timing on fate’s behalf, he mused. As a declared outlaw, he was a walking dead man. Accepting a mate now meant that he placed the woman under that same death sentence. He was going to have to try harder to control that part of him that wanted to grab Annora and claim her in every way a man could claim a woman.

Forcing all thought of her from his mind, he concentrated on his carving. The work did bring him some peace and he welcomed the lessening of the tension that had gripped his body. It was not until he paused to study what he had done that his tension returned full force. In the far corner of the piece of the mantel he had been working on was a woman’s face. It was Annora’s, every soft curve of the face already as familiar to him as his own.

“’Tis some fine work ye have done there, laddie,” said Big Marta from behind him, and James inwardly cursed. The woman had a real skill at arriving at his side at just the wrong moment.

“Aye, it will do,” he murmured, hoping the woman would leave it at that.

“That face looks verra familiar.”

“Does it, now?”

“Aye, it looks just like our wee Annora.”

“Weel, she has a fine face.”

Big Marta laughed, slapped him on the back, and walked away. “Och, laddie, dinnae fight it too hard.”

James groaned and rested his head against the carving that was now permanently etched into the wood of the mantel that would adorn the fireplace in the laird’s chamber. He would probably still fight what was becoming very clear. It was a man’s natural inclination to fight a thing as binding as what was growing inside him. Unfortunately, he was sure it was a battle already lost.

Annora woke to her cat sitting on her chest and staring into her face. She gave the big, gray torn a sleepy smile and scratched behind its ragged ears. It had been on a bit of a wander for a few days and she feared there would be some kittens born in a few months. She would have to try to find them and see if she could save them from a drowning.

Mungo, named after a boy who had been her friend when she was a child, was a well-kept secret. Annora had absolutely no doubt that Donnell would use her love for her cat against her if he found out about Mungo. He had already shown that he could use her feelings for Meggie to keep her obedient.

Sitting up, she uncovered the small plate of venison bits mixed with a cooked egg that she had scavenged for her pet and set it down on the bed beside her. Purring deeply and loudly, Mungo moved off her to eat and she idly stroked its back as she shook free of the last tenuous grip of a long, deep sleep.

Oddly enough, despite the depth of her sleep, she could recall a very vivid dream, one she had had many times before. This time, however, the ruddy, green-eyed wolf was watching her as she kissed a tall, dark-haired man. A man with the same color eyes as the wolf, she thought and frowned. That kiss she had shared with Rolf had certainly added new warmth to her dreams, but it was only now that she realized he had those same eyes as the wolf that had haunted her dreams for a little over three years.

“How verra strange, Mungo,” she murmured as the cat curled up by her side, resting its head on her chest. “Do ye think my dreams are some kind of, weel, a vision? Nay, that cannae be. Wheesht, I have enough trouble trying nay to feel what everyone round me is feeling. I dinnae need to become afflicted with the sight as weel.”

Mungo yawned widely and began to lazily wash a paw.

“He kissed me, Mungo. Oh, I ken that I have been kissed before and one or two times I actually wanted to be kissed, but, wheesht, none kissed me like he kissed me. I have certainly ne’er dreamed of any mon who kissed me. Most of them I wouldnae want to dream of, true enough, but, aye, one or two didnae repulse me. But e’en they didnae make me dream of them. Rolf kisses me but once and I cannae shake the memory of it; it e’en invades my dreams of my wolf.” She grimaced. “I fear my heart may be readying itself to do something verra, verra foolish.”

Seeing that Mungo was asleep, Annora carefully slipped out of her bed. Despite losing its comfortable pillow on her chest as well as her warmth, the cat barely blinked. It was a sad state of affairs when one was reduced to discussing one’s troubles with a cat, Annora mused as she hurried to get washed up and dressed. Talks about kisses and men were best had with other women, but Donnell had made certain that she had no close confidante amongst the women of Dunncraig.

Refusing to become maudlin over all she lacked, Annora went to say a good morning to Meggie. The little girl was all smiles and chatter when Annora reached the nursery. Meggie’s plans for the day ran one into the other as she babbled. The small grain of sadness and self-pity that had taken root in Annora’s heart was soon banished. The maid Annie quietly let Annora know that their
guests
had left at dawn and Annora smiled with relief at the thought of breaking her fast without having to face the Chisholms again.

After telling Meggie to heed the young Annie who had prepared her such a fine meal to break her fast with, Annora headed down to the great hall to break her own. She
wondered if one reason she was so cheerful was simply that the Chisholms were gone and, as was their usual habit, would not be back for a few months. From what little she had been able to discern, and the lack of any hastily performed ceremony, no final agreement had been made with Donnell concerning the betrothal of Halbert Chisholm to Meggie. Donnell obviously wanted to dangle the bait before the Chisholms for a while longer.

The evening meal the night before had been a torment for Annora, one that she doubted she would soon forget. She had spent every minute of it expecting Donnell to announce that Meggie was now betrothed to Halbert Chisholm. The conversation she had overheard between the Chisholms and Donnell had certainly made it sound as if it was all settled between them, but now she had to wonder. Since she did not know what each man wanted or held over the head of the other, she suspected the why of it all would be very hard to discern. It was tempting to simply confront Donnell and demand some answers, but she knew that was just her frustration talking. She knew it was absolute foolishness to think a confrontation with Donnell about anything was a good idea, and it was certainly unwise to think he would calmly accept her opinion on anything.

Stepping into the great hall, Annora breathed a silent sigh of relief. The Chisholms were really gone. There was no sign of them in the great hall and they never missed a meal. Donnell was there talking to Rolf, but even Egan was absent. It was a little unsettling to face a man she had so recently kissed and clung to with such abandon, but it was better than facing Egan and the others again. The little bench where she always sat to eat was beautifully empty. She approached cautiously, however, for she did not know if Donnell would want her to be there while he discussed work with Master Lavengeance. When Donnell only briefly glanced her way and then continued to talk to Rolf, she was relieved. She sat down quickly, and helped herself to some food as surreptitiously as possible.

Pretending not to listen to the conversation between the men going on so close to her was difficult. Donnell was discussing the making of chairs. He talked of how he had seen some at some rich man’s keep and wanted a full set of something similar for his head table. Annora badly wanted to gape at the man, revealing her astonishment, but she quickly filled her mouth with oatmeal to smother the urge.

A quick glance at Master Lavengeance tempted Annora to reach out with her gift to see if she could sense what he was feeling. There was certainly no hint of how he felt about Donnell’s elaborate plans upon his handsome face, and Annora felt strangely compelled to know what was going on behind that smooth, calm mask of a face. The moment she let herself reach out to him, she began to think it had been a mistake to do so. The rage she had felt before was now sharp and boiling up inside him. Annora was astonished that no sign of that revealed itself upon his face. There was also a wealth of scorn inside him, directed at Donnell, but Master Lavengeance’s fine voice was soft and polite.

Suddenly Master Lavengeance rubbed his hand over his mouth as if he was thinking and then he spoke quickly in French. Annora nearly choked on the oatmeal she had just put into her mouth. She glanced at Donnell, and the faint frown of confusion on his face told her that Donnell had no idea of how vilely he had just been insulted. It took every scrap of willpower she possessed not to blush over the coarse words Master Lavengeance had spoken in his deep, calm, and courteous voice. The man detested
Donnell so deeply and completely that she had to wonder why this wood-carver was even at Dunncraig. How could he work for a man he loathed so thoroughly?

“Curse it all,” muttered Donnell and then he scowled at Annora. “What did he say? Are the things I am asking beyond his capabilities? Come now, ye understand him, dinnae ye?”

Annora took a deep drink of her goat’s milk to drown the urge to repeat Master Lavengeance’s insults word for word. She was sure a beating would be the very least Donnell would give the man for those words. Donnell may not have loved his mother, but Annora was sure he would not want to hear anyone say that the woman had been the lover of goats. So she decided the best thing to do was to tell Donnell some of what she had been thinking as she had listened to his grand plans.

“Master Lavengeance but wonders if the design ye spoke of putting onto the back of the chairs would make them uncomfortable to sit in.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw the faintest glint of amusement in Master Lavengeance’s eye. “T’would be a wee bit, weel, bumpy, aye?”

Donnell frowned, obviously struggling to picture what he wanted in his mind and failing. “Humph. That wouldnae be a good thing. Weel, I will leave the design up to ye, then,” he said to Master Lavengeance. “I expect ye to show me what ye plan first, however. What else?” he then demanded of Annora. “I ken that wasnae all he said, for there were a lot of words there.”

Weel, he also said that he thought your father was the king’s whore
, she mused, but simply said, “He says ye need to decide if ye want to use a heavy wood or a lighter one.”

“Heavy. I want good sturdy chairs.” As if realizing that he was having to ask for Annora’s help simply to make his wishes understood to a mere wood-carver, Donnell scowled at Annora. “Why do ye ken this language anyway? What does a wee lass need to ken such things for?”

“I suspect I dinnae really need to ken it,” she said in an attempt to keep his annoyance from growing, “but when I was but a child and still living with my grandsire, I had a friend named Mungo. His mother was French.” The memory of Lady Aimee made Annora feel both sad and comforted, for the woman had been very kind to her, and kindness was something she had received little of as a child. “She taught me.”

“Ah, I suspicion she wanted someone to talk to, eh? Easier to gossip in her own tongue.”

“Aye, I suspicion that was it.”

Pleased that Donnell’s annoyance had lessened and he turned his full attention back to Master Lavengeance, Annora finished her meal. She also pulled back from the wood-carver, understanding the harsh feelings he had toward Donnell, but finding them very uncomfortable to share. She had enough of her own to deal with. The moment she was done eating she excused herself, but as she stood up to leave the table, Donnell grabbed her by the arm. Annora tensed, afraid that she was about to pay dearly for knowing something that her Cousin did not She saw Master Lavengeance’s whole body tense and forced herself to squarely meet his gaze, trying to convey to him that it would be useless, even dangerous, to interfere in whatever Donnell planned to do now.

“Best ye dinnae go too far, Cousin,” Donnell said to her. “I may have need of ye to help me understand the mon again.”

Even though she could hear the resentment in Donnell’s voice, Annora felt weak-kneed with relief. “As ye wish, Cousin. May I go to Meggie now?”

“Aye, get away with ye.”

Bobbing in a swift, shallow curtsey to both men, Annora fled the room as fast as she could without actually running. It bothered her that Donnell wanted her help, for the resentment he felt for even having to ask for it would only grow each time she had to come to his aid. She decided it might be wise to try to find a moment to speak privately with the wood-carver. It was a little amusing to hear Donnell vilified, but she knew she could easily pay dearly for that brief amusement If Donnell ever discovered exactly what Master Lavengeance was saying, the wood-carver would pay even more dearly. The last man who insulted Donnell had died slowly and painfully while hanging in a cage from the battlements of Dunncraig Keep. Since the mere thought of the handsome wood-carver meeting the same gruesome fate made her feel horrified and deeply afraid for him, Annora knew she would be cornering the man at the earliest opportunity.

James watched Annora leave the great hall, enjoying the gentle sway of her hips. He felt a little guilty about what he had said to Donnell even though it had eased the strength of the anger churning inside him. For a moment he had forgotten that Annora understood French. He never should have spoken so crudely in front of her. Worse, he had the feeling that he had just caused her some trouble with her cousin. He would have to be more careful, he thought, as he turned his gaze back to Donnell only to find the man staring at him. MacKay did not really look angry, but there was a narrow-eyed warning easy to read in the man’s expression.

“That one isnae for ye, laddie,” Donnell said as he poured himself and then James a tankard of ale. “Best ye dinnae let your gaze rest on her too much.”

“She sits too high?” James murmured and then took a drink of ale.

“Aye, I suspicion she does although ye have a verra fancy name for a common mon. But she is meant for Egan. He wouldnae like to see that look ye had in your eye as ye watched her fine arse swish out of the room.”

It was hard not to strike the man down for speaking so crudely about Annora. “They are betrothed, eh?”

“Weel, they will be soon if Egan has his way. Now, let us try and make each other understood as we talk some more on these chairs I am wanting.”

James nearly rolled his eyes. If he did not hold fast to the hope that he would soon be sitting back in the laird’s chair, he would probably be even more upset over MacKay’s scramble for elegance at the expense of all the people of Dunncraig. There was nothing he could do about the neglect of his lands and his people until he had proven his innocence and regained the right to rule his lands. If he increased the beauty of the keep as he worked to destroy MacKay, he could perhaps find some comfort in that. He also knew that the moment he regained his good name and his lands, his family would help him begin to restore Dunncraig lands to the efficiency they had once enjoyed. It was the only thing that held him back from acting too quickly.

Rubbing at the ache in the small of her back, Annora looked over the finished garden. If there was enough rain and sun over the next few months, Dunncraig would have all the herbs it needed for cooking and healing. There would also be some flowers to
enjoy. Satisfied with her work, she praised Meggie for all her help and sent the little girl off to the nursery to get cleaned up. Annora began to collect up the little bags the seeds had been stored in and the tools she and Meggie had used to plant them. As she straightened up, someone grabbed her from behind, causing her to drop everything, and then she was dragged over to the wall of the keep. It was all done so quickly she had not had time to gather her wits enough to say anything before she found herself already near the wall.

For just a moment, Annora thought it was Rolf despite the roughness of the treatment, but she quickly realized her mistake. The feel was wrong, as was the smell. By the time she felt herself thrust up against the wall, she knew that Egan had her. The brief look she got of his face before he forced a kiss on her mouth told her that he was tired of playing the gentle wooer.