X Marks the Scot (19 page)

“My mother.”

Declan stood in the bailey and reveled in the joy of a silent moment. He had spoken with his men, then left them in Montgomery’s care. Anna had recommended a man in the village to tend the stables. And Ciaran had gone. All in a good day.

“Will we be staying here this eve or returning to Glenorchy?” asked the healer, walking up beside him.

“Ye look weary. Why donna we stay?”

“I donna have my sack or nightrail. Mayhap we should return and then come back on the morrow,” she said softly, giving him a tender, tired smile.

Declan swung her into the circle of his arms. “Ye donna need a nightrail and ye willnae have the need to sleep this eve.”

She clamped her mouth shut, evidently stunned by his bluntness. “Ye are acting strangely, MacGregor.”

“Why? Because I want to be with my wife?” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise and he chuckled at the shaken expression on her face. “What is the matter?”

She wiggled out of his grasp. “I donna know. I think ’tis the first time ye ever referred to me as your wife. I am clearly at a loss. To what do I owe the honor?”

“I am nae always an arse.”

“Ye caught me by surprise. It may take some getting used to. Ye should try nae being an arse more often.” She leaned in, teasing him. “Ye know? Ye might find ye even like it.”

Declan pulled his wife close and held her in a tender embrace. “Please accept my apologies. I know I am nae an easy man to understand.”

“At least ye speak in truth.”

Her body molded to him like a second skin. She was so warm and soft, comforting. Perhaps this was meant to be—here, now. Maybe it was about damn time he accepted his fate.

“I will try,” he spoke softly.

“’Tis all I ever asked of ye.”

He was about to kiss her when she backed out of his embrace and the moment was clearly lost. He would need to make certain there was another. “We almost have enough staff to remain. Why donna we spend one more eve at Glenorchy and then return on the morrow with your belongings?”

“That sounds wonderful,” she said with a tired smile.

“I am sure it will be good for ye to be under your own roof again.”

“It will be. Although, I will have to start my plants anew. The garden was a mess and someone even removed the herbs from my chamber.”

Declan contemplated whether to tell her about the changes in her new chamber and then decided against it. There was plenty of time to start anew. “I met with Montgomery earlier, and there is something I must ask of ye.”

An uncertainty crept into her expression. “Aye?”

“I know there are hidden passageways within the castle. ’Tis how ye managed to bring Aisling to safety. I know at least one of them travels to the dungeon. I need ye to show me all of them.”

Relief passed over her features. “I donna mind. I will show ye anything ye ask.”

“Really?” he asked with a roguish grin.

His wife slapped him with an answering grin. “Cease. Ye have already seen that.”

Declan shrugged. “It doesnae mean I donna want to see it again.”

Her eyes lowered to the ground. “If ye want to take a walk, I will show ye the passages.”

***

Liadain walked with her husband around the outer wall of the castle, remembering the last time she had been there. Just around this very corner was where he had placed his dagger to her throat. She never would have believed that this handsome Highland rogue would become her mate. For all of the torture the man put her through, he was not going to get off that easily by offering a simple apology for his dreadful behavior. With a devilish grin, Liadain decided to have some fun of her own.

“And here is where ye sprang out of the brush and placed your dagger to my throat the first time.” She pointed to the stone wall. “And there is where ye threw me into the wall and threatened to slit my throat.” She spoke as if she were merely reciting ingredients for a recipe. She knew it irritated her husband, but frankly, he deserved it for all of the aggravation he had caused her. She jumped when he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

“And here is where I will kiss my bonny wife.” MacGregor’s mouth covered hers hungrily and he whispered in between breaths, “If I ever hold a dagger to your bonny neck again, ye have leave to pummel me.” He pulled back and gazed into her eyes. “I speak the truth.”

Liadain had a burning desire, an aching need, for another kiss. Her husband needed to stop…talking. “Donna worry. As I told ye before, there willnae be a third. Kiss me, MacGregor.” She did not need to ask her husband twice, her last words smothered on her lips.

His tongue plunged into her mouth, and her knees weakened. It was a kiss for her tired soul to melt into. He began to slip his hands up her arms, ever so slowly, while she caressed the back of his neck.

He pressed her even closer and she could feel his desire hardening against her belly. Blood surged from her fingertips to her toes with a giddy sense of pleasure. It had been too long since she’d felt this way. An undeniable magnetism was growing between them, and she wanted so much more of him—here, now. She no longer cared about the past. This day, this moment was her only concern.

He pulled back and placed his forehead to hers. “Ye are my wife. I should be with ye properly—in a bed,” he said, his breath uneven upon her cheek. As she was about to protest, he added, “Besides, my men watch from above on the wall.”

Liadain shuddered in humiliation. She discreetly twisted her head around and glanced above. “I donna see anyone.”

“They are there,” he simply stated.

She did not doubt her husband’s word and she tried desperately to calm her racing heart. She straightened her day dress and he draped his arm over her shoulders, squeezing her affectionately. As he took a deep breath, she was joyful to see that the man was just as affected as she was.

“Come, show me the passages.”

Escorting MacGregor through the darkened passageway from the dungeon into the interior of the castle, Liadain placed her hands on both sides of the cool stone wall. The lower temperatures of the cavern felt good to her feverish body.

“MacGregor, ye are sure ye donna want me to light a candle?”

“Nay, I must know my way around if there is nay light. I count the steps and touch the walls. Where does this tunnel take us?”

“This is the main passage and it branches off ahead to the bedchambers, Archie’s study, and the great hall. There is another tunnel to the stables.”

“Lead me to the study. I am at your mercy.”

She giggled. “Take my hand.” She fumbled behind her and grabbed MacGregor’s rough hand, placing it on the wall beside her. She covered her fingers with his and guided him until he felt the partition. “This way leads to Archie’s study and the bedchambers. If ye go straight, it leads to the great hall.”

“Lead on, healer.”

“I ne’er thought I would see the day when a Campbell led a MacGregor through the secret tunnels.”

A warm laugh answered her. “Ye? Who would have thought a MacGregor would own Castle Campbell? How could your brother be the right hand of the king and yet be so daft?”

“I have asked myself the same. I ne’er understood Archie. He was a man who held so much—yet had only a wee bit, if that, of honor.”

Liadain heard a shuffle and then he bumped into her back and curses fell from his mouth. She was not even sure they were words she had heard before.

“Keep your feet up, husband.”

“How many times did it take ye to walk these walls without light before ye didnae stumble?”

“I have had my whole life to figure it out. I started by counting steps and then learned to feel for the openings.”

“I am joyful ye did, else my sisters-by-marriage would still be rotting in the dungeon.”

“I am stopping now,” she said, even though the dolt still bumped into her. She turned around and extended her arm until she touched him. “Give me your hand.”

“Healer, that isnae my hand. I told ye I would take ye properly—in a bed.”

Liadain was thankful for the darkness. “Donna flatter yourself. Ye know I cannae see. Just give me your hand,” she said through clenched teeth. The palm of MacGregor’s hand encircled her breast. “
That
isnae my hand.”

“Donna flatter yourself. Ye know I cannae see,” he repeated in the same mocking tone.

She removed her husband’s hand from her breast and placed his palm back on the stone. “If ye rub down the wall, ye should be able to grasp the—”

“I have it.” MacGregor pushed on the latch and a narrow beam of light sprang through tiny cracks in the wall. He pushed open the door and walked straight into Archie’s study. “This may prove convenient.”

“Archie thought as much.” She followed her husband in and noticed that not much had changed. She turned around and closed the stone door, which was designed to easily slide into place. The door was a perfect match to the wall. If one did not know what to look for, the entrance certainly would never be spotted. Archie had been downright clever at times.

MacGregor studied the fireplace and the decorative pieces that were throughout the room. Fine woven tapestries from Spain and Italy graced the walls.

He sat down in the chair behind the massive wooden desk. “Mmm…this is what it felt like to be the right hand of the King.” He rubbed his open hand across the grain of the wood. “He didnae want for anything. Everything is of verra fine quality.”

She shrugged. “I suppose. I was ne’er interested in such trivial treasures.”

“Trivial treasures?”

“When he died, do ye think it mattered that he had so much of value?”

MacGregor opened the drawers to the desk. “Empty.”

“Did ye honestly think otherwise? I am sure naught remains. I donna believe Archie would have kept anything of importance in the desk drawers anyway. He may have been daft with his plotting to gain more lands, but my brother was wise in matters of the state. Viscount Cranborne said as much when he would meet with Archie.”

“Do ye know where he would have kept such things—papers of importance or other trivial treasures mayhap?”

She cast her eyes downward. “Nay, I donna know.”

“Healer. If ye know—”

“I would tell ye. I honestly donna know. Archie ne’er involved me in matters of substance. As long as he didnae see me, he didnae bother. And I made sure he saw me as little as possible.”

“I have seen enough this day. Are ye ready to take your leave to Glenorchy?”

Liadain smiled politely, even though she did not believe for a single moment that this would be the last time they stayed at the laird’s castle. With Rosalia’s current condition, Liadain should stay close or at least be on hand in case the woman needed her.

***

Riding to Glenorchy, Declan reflected on the day’s events—well, more so on his bonny wife. His lighthearted temptress was hard to resist, and he found her smile was somewhat contagious. He glanced over to see her raven curls lifted by the wind. She was exceptionally beautiful.

“What did I do now?” the healer asked.

He regarded his wife with curiosity. “What? Ye didnae do anything.”

“Ye gaze upon me and I see ye are clearly thinking of something. Tell me—nay, let me guess. Ye are wondering whether to trust me. Ye hold some doubt in the back of your stubborn MacGregor mind that I know where Archie stored his precious papers. As I told ye before, and I will continue to say the same, I donna know. I avoided his study like the plague.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “How do ye know what I am thinking?”

“There has been enough trouble between us already. The last we need are lies and deceit to add to the mix. I have ne’er spoken untruths to ye and I ne’er will. I speak in truth, but of course that is for ye to decide.”

“If ye speak in truth, then tell me…Would ye have permitted me to take ye right there by the wall?”

Her cheeks turned to crimson and she shied her head. “What kind of question is that to ask your wife?”

“Remember, healer, ye donna speak untruths,” he said.

“Nae with your men watching us from above,” she said as though her response was obvious.

“And if there were nay men upon the wall?”

She grunted. “Why would ye even ask me such a question? Ye are despicable, MacGregor.”

“I know. I will have your response.”

There was a heavy moment of silence.

“What do ye think?” she asked with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Declan smiled with complete male satisfaction. “I think I just received my answer.”

Liadain sat quietly at the evening meal and cast stealthy glances at her husband. MacGregor was actually making an effort to keep the peace between them.

His leg brushed against her thigh and her body immediately tingled from the contact. Must his every move remind her of his sensual presence? When her husband reached for a piece of bread, his muscles strained against the fabric of his tunic. She was behaving like some giddy lass. No man should rattle a woman like that—ever.

“Ye havenae stopped smiling since Liadain and Declan returned, Husband,” said Rosalia, nudging Ciaran’s shoulder.

Liadain could not hear Ciaran’s full response, but she managed to make out something about a vow to his father. That was odd. Ciaran’s father had passed away some time ago.

“While we were away, Cylan came from the village,” said Rosalia, giving Liadain a knowing look. She took a drink from her tankard, studying Liadain over the rim. When she could only manage a nod, Rosalia leaned in close. “I took the liberty of placing the package in your chamber.”

“Thank ye,” she whispered back.

“Since ye and Declan arenae battling, does it mean ye have found peace between ye?” asked Rosalia with concern.

“I hope as much. ’Tis all I ever wanted.”

“He loves ye and he is a stubborn MacGregor. It was only a matter of time before he admitted the truth. I am joyful to see it.”

“Rosalia, I wouldnae exactly speak of love. We have merely reached a truce. I didnae expect a miracle.”

Rosalia raised her brow as if to disagree and then promptly changed the subject. “After the meal, may I speak with ye alone?”

“Of course.”

A warm body melted into hers, the touch familiar. “After the meal, I want to show ye something,” said MacGregor as he winked at her, his eyes holding a secret meaning.

“I have already seen it, MacGregor,” Liadain said dryly.

He chuckled in response. “Ye know, Wife, your jesting does make me laugh.”

She leaned in close, tapping him playfully in the chest. “Ye know, Husband, I find it humorous that ye
think
I jest.” Her husband raised his tankard and gave her a mock salute. “After I speak with Rosalia, ye can show me whatever ’tis ye need to show me.”

“Ye are sitting right next to her. Why cannae ye speak now?”

Liadain was not exactly thrilled with the idea of deceiving her husband, but Rosalia’s situation was none of his concern. A sudden memory of Rosalia’s cleverness came to mind and she stilled her expression. Not very adept at telling untruths, she recognized she would have to be convincing.

She placed her lips next to MacGregor’s ear and whispered, “My monthly courses have arrived and I—”

He pulled away and held up his hand. “Healer, ye donna need to speak upon it. That was clearly much more than I wanted to know.”

She had to turn her head away from him or a laugh would have surely escaped her. Were men truly that daft? God’s teeth! They slayed men on the battlefield without so much as a second thought, but mention birthing or monthly courses and they fled like frightened rabbits.

Cowards.

When the meal was finished, Rosalia led Liadain out of the great hall. They walked casually to the stable. “I thank ye for nae mentioning this to Ciaran or Declan. I thought upon more of what ye spoke, but I am nae convinced ’tis true. I could nae bleed for several months and still be without child.”

Liadain held open the stable door and gestured Rosalia through. “I understand it may seem that way, but ’tis verra possible ye are with child. Ye have all the symptoms. Do ye remember when last ye bled?”

“Three months past. I have been losing my contents for well over a fortnight and my breasts ache from about the same time.”

A horse whinnied and Liadain approached the black beast, raising her hand to pat him upon his thick neck. “Please donna think my next words are meant to be harmful. It isnae my intention. When someone is with child, she may notice that her midriff somewhat thickens.”

“I truly donna know,” Rosalia said, exasperated. She placed her hands over her stomach protectively and briefly closed her eyes. “I pray the gods bless me will such a gift. To be able to give Ciaran a son would be worth all of the pain I had to endure as an Armstrong.”

Liadain’s mind immediately turned to Lady Armstrong and Lord Dunnehl. Would the man who had killed Rosalia’s father show up on her doorstep? Rosalia was happy and content at Glenorchy. If the beastly pair decided to pay her a visit…Liadain would feel like she was no better than Archie. She would ruin everything. Yet, she didn’t want to mention her encounter with the couple to Rosalia in case she worried for nothing. There was no clear answer and Liadain prayed the fates would show her kindness—or mercy.

But for now, Rosalia was safe with Ciaran forever by her side. Her sister-by-marriage was starting anew. Perhaps one day Liadain might find herself, and her home as well.

***

“I missed ye, Declan.”

Declan whipped his head around as the blond woman fingered her bodice. Her firm, high breasts were hard to miss, and her full, red mouth left very little to the imagination. What was her name? He could not remember.

He had lost count of how many women he had bedded. The healer had been kind enough to warn him that at some point in his sorry life, his past would come back and bite him in the arse. Hell. It might have been easier if he asked himself which women he had not bedded.

“I search for my wife,” he said, mumbling the only words that came to mind.

The woman giggled. “Your
wife?
I cannae believe Declan MacGregor has settled himself with a wife. Well, she can join us if ye would like.”

“I donna think ’tis something she would enjoy overmuch,” he said dryly. “I am a man true to my vows.”

“Donna be so dramatic. Why donna we take our leave to the stables?” She cocked her head to one side.

The woman’s eyes glowed with desire as she moved closer and knelt before him, attempting to lift his kilt. Without thought, he slapped her hand away.

The woman’s mouth dropped in astonishment.

“I donna think my wife would agree,” he said between clenched teeth.

“Nay, she wouldnae.”

He was startled at the sound of the healer’s voice behind him, and the blond before him jumped to her feet. His wife raised her hand to his shoulder.

The woman held up her hands. “My lady, ’tis only a misunderstanding. I didnae know he spoke his vows lest I wouldnae have made such an offer.”

Declan was about to speak when the healer silenced him with a glare. “Truly? It was only but a moment ago when I heard my husband decline your…
offer
and clearly state that he was wed.
Dè an t-ainm a th’ ort?” What is your name?

The woman cast a helpless glance and then reluctantly spoke. “Elspeth.”

His wife stood to her full height and studied the woman from head to toe. “Elspeth, if ye ever come near my husband again with such a proposal, I will have ye banished from Glenorchy.”

Elspeth boldly met the healer’s gaze. “Ye arenae the lady of Glenorchy.”

Declan rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed.
“
She is my wife.
Chan
eil
e
gu
difeir.
”
It
does
not
matter.

Elspeth’s eyebrows flew up in surprise at Declan’s defense of his wife. “My apologies.” The woman huffed and turned on her heel.

The healer whipped her head around. “Husband, how many times must I continue to save ye—”

Declan pulled her into the circle of his arms and his lips came crashing down upon hers. So often scolded and lectured, he thought it refreshing to have someone actually defend him for a change. Just when he thought he had figured out his wee raven witch, she surprised him with something unexpected.

She pulled back with passion-glazed eyes. “And donna think to distract me by kissing me.”

A grin lifted the corner of Declan’s lips. “Is it working?”

“What?”

“’Tis what I thought. Come and let me show ye what I wanted. There is still time left.” He grabbed his wife’s hand, leading her away.

“Time for what?” she asked, puzzled.

“Trust me.”

“Aye, ’tis what I am afraid of.”

***

As Liadain’s mind relived the warmth of her husband’s kiss, she followed him in a helpless trance until she glanced around and did not recognize her surroundings.

“Where are ye taking me?”

“To the parapet.” He led her up the stone staircase, unbolted the door, and pushed it open.

A rush of air cleared her senses. MacGregor placed his hand at her back, guiding her toward the edge. The sun had set only a few moments earlier and they both stood silently. She peered out over the glistening loch, the dark azure sky beckoning her. The wind brushed up against the soft hairs on her neck, and it was as though the air itself whispered secrets of another time, another place.

Her husband’s eyes darkened with emotion, and she was enthralled by what she saw. The brawny Highlander’s determination was breaking before her, his walls crumbling, his defenses weakening. The heart-rending tenderness of MacGregor’s gaze was strangely flattering. She lowered her head under his scrutiny, and he lifted her chin with his finger and smiled.

“Ye are verra beautiful.”

Shaken by the unexpected compliment, Liadain paused. “Thank ye.”

His mouth twitched with amusement. “I would be tempted to steal another kiss, but I am afraid I wouldnae stop. When I take ye next, it will be in our bed.” She was about to protest when her husband pulled her close and tapped her playfully on her bottom. “Mayhap your woman’s time will be through by then.”

Praise the saints. She was an idiot. For a brief moment, she had thought to speak the truth, but she could not break Rosalia’s trust. Spinning untruths always made matters worse. When would she learn?

“We will be home on the morrow,” she said, needing to speak the words aloud for reassurance. “Thank ye for sharing this view with me. ’Tis truly lovely.”

He lifted her hand and brushed a kiss on the top, his eyes never leaving hers. “’Tis my pleasure, lass.”

“Do ye bring all your women up here?” She bit her lip when she realized what she had done, the words out before she could stop them. She had to mess things up and open her mouth. Straightening her spine, she prepared for the battle to come.

MacGregor stared off into the distance, more than likely contemplating whether or not to toss her from the parapet, when a roguish grin lit up his face.

“My apologies. I deserve whatever ’tis ye have to say,” she said softly.

“Must ye know, healer, ye are the only woman I thought to share the view with.” He paused. “Only my wife has been here and had the privilege.”

“I had nay right to—”

He placed his finger to her lips. “Shh…ye had every right. I cannae blame ye for the question—especially after ye saved me once again from my error in judgment. I donna know where they all come from. Truly.”

Liadain raised her eyebrow. “If ye wouldnae have thought with your…” she said, gesturing to his manhood, “ye wouldnae be placed in these circumstances so often.”

MacGregor threw up his hands in the air. “Now ye tell me. And where were ye several years ago, healer, when I could have used your words of wisdom?”

“Ye know ye wouldnae have listened to me.”

“Ye are probably right.” He rubbed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Ye are chilled. Why donna we step inside? ’Tis our last eve at Glenorchy. On the morrow we will be home.”

“Aye, I bet John will be waiting for ye at the gates.”

“He is a good lad.” He hesitated. “Do ye know of his father?”

Liadain wrapped her arms around herself. “John’s father? Nay, Anna ne’er spoke of him and I ne’er pushed the issue. It was apparent she didnae want to speak of him.”

“Hmm…”