IntoEternity (22 page)

Donovan smiled as well. “Skean.”

“Skean.” She repeated. She beamed at him, her confidence
growing stronger.

“Wrong.”

“What? What do you mean ‘wrong’? You said ‘skean’! You heard
him say ‘skean’, did he not?” She turned and addressed Gusty, beseeching her to
agree.

“Aye, he did say ‘skean’.”

Annabelle nodded jerkily before she returned her attention
to Donovan. Tears began to well up in her lovely blue eyes and her lower lip
trembled. Gusty had seen the same reaction from every woman who had come into
the room tonight. She was tired of watching each one be made to look foolish
and ignorant.

Annabelle did not wait to be excused. Obviously humiliated,
she whirled away and fled from the room, her guardian running to keep up with
her. It was a sorry exhibition and Gusty’s patience was at an end.

“I cannot stand this any longer.” Gusty turned to admonish
Donovan after Annabelle disappeared out the door. Gusty had heard this riddle
in a movie she had seen a long time ago and had thought it rather clever, but
after hearing it repeated over and over again with no one being able to
understand the simple trickery, she decided to take matters into her own hands.

“If you ask one more woman that insufferable riddle, I will
scream the answer to the entire room. Then where will your wife-hunting be? You
will have to find a mate the old-fashioned way.”

“You know the answer?” Donovan looked at her with
skepticism.

“Of course I know the answer.”

“Prove it. Repeat these three words for me. Claymore.”

“Claymore.”

“Skean”

“Skean.”

“Wrong.”

“Wrong!” she shouted back at him.

An arrogant smile broke over Donovan’s face. He stood slowly,
and reaching for her hand he pulled her to her feet.

“I had come to believe there was not a woman alive who could
solve that riddle but you, Lady Gusty, have just proved me wrong. Clearly you
are not only beautiful but intelligent as well. We shall wed at once. Aye, by
the king’s command I will wed you, bed you and then get on with my life.”

Before Gusty could stop him, he raised her hand to his lips
and placed a sensuous kiss on her knuckles. A sparkle of humor filled his eyes
as she gazed up at him, her cheeks hot at his unexpected attention. He settled
his great arm around her shoulders and drew her tight to his side.

“We will wed tomorrow at sunset, Augusta Sinclair.”

At his loud announcement Gusty’s stomach clenched with
dread. The great hall erupted in shouts as his clansmen voiced their obvious
approval.

“Now there you might have an itty bitty problem, Laird Ross.”
She pinched the “mighty laird” in the side to get his attention.

He glanced at her and she motioned him to lower his head so
she could have his ear to speak.

“I did not come here, my laird, of my own free will,” she
told him, raising her voice to be heard above the clamor that still filled the
hall. “I cannot be part of your bride competition. My grandfather has misled
you if you think I am free to wed you. I am not. Though I am honored you would
consider me for the position, I already have a husband. I am sorry but I cannot
marry you.”

“You are married?”

“Yes. Something MacKay obviously forgot to mention when he
gave me to you.”

“Aye. He did neglect to relate that bit of information.”

“Then you will let me go home?”

“Aye of course, sweet lady, I would not think to hold you
against your will.”

“Then please lend me a horse and I will be on my way in the
morning.”

“I am afraid that is impossible. You will have to wait until
I have time to take you back to this husband of yours. What kind of man would I
be if I sent a woman off alone without escort? These lands are full of dangers
you wouldn’t even want to imagine. It would not be safe and I would be decreed
the vilest heathen in the Highlands if I let you go unescorted. The king would
probably mandate something far worse than foisting a wife on me as my due
punishment.”

“If you send a couple of men with me and that nice maid
Mairi, I will be just fine.”

He arched a brow. “You will wait here at Ross Castle and I
will send my best rider with a message to your husband. He will come here to
escort you home.”

“I don’t know if that is such a good idea. My husband is a
very busy man and I don’t think he would be able to come.” She didn’t want
Alexander walking into a death trap just to rescue her. She would just have to
make it back to him on her own. Perhaps she could get one of the Sinclairs to
take her to her grandfather’s holdings. MacKay could take her to Alexander.

“I insist. It is the only way I am willing to let you go.
Your husband must come to claim you from me in person. If he does not, you are
mine.”

“As you wish, Laird Ross.”

She plastered a fake smile on her face, which seemed to placate
him for the time being. He grinned at her and winked. The man was no lackwit. If
he suspected she was hiding something from him, he would no doubt try to find
out what it was.

* * * * *

“What have you done, you fool?”

A very beautiful, very angry Brigitte Urquart stood over
Bart Sutherland, prodding him in a very sensitive part of his anatomy with the
sharp point of his own dagger. He had not expected to see her until he had
returned to court and he would have welcomed her back into his bed. But at the
moment she did not seem to be in the mood for a session of passionate sex. He
inhaled sharply at the cruel look in her lovely eyes and the pain as the tip of
the dagger pierced his tender flesh. Bart dared not move, barely dared to
breathe. Angering her further would be like issuing an open invitation for a
serious assault on his person. He needed to find out what had set her off, what
he’d supposedly done to bring about her animosity.

“W-what is it you think I have done, my love?” His hoarse
whisper mirrored his paralyzing fear that this furious woman might castrate
him.

“I have never witnessed anything as idiotic as what you have
done.” She pricked him a little harder and drops of blood flowed down his
thigh.

Bart sucked in his breath and beads of perspiration broke
out on his forehead.

“Tell me, my love. What have I done to displease you so?” he
asked, his words no louder than a breath.

“Think back,
my
love
.” She mocked sweetly as
she moved in a little closer, until they were nose to nose. “What did you do
with the Sinclair girl, lackwit?”

“I have done nothing, I swear it. She should be in the Ross’
hands by now.”

“Ah.” She stood back up but didn’t release his manhood from
imminent danger. “You even admit it to me. What made you think I would approve
of your actions? Did I tell you to do anything?” She paused, her eyes narrowing
until they glowed like twin fires.

“Nay, my beauty, I was wrong. I should have sought your
advice. I am sorry.”

“You don’t even know what you are apologizing for, you fat toad.”

“I admit I am a little puzzled. What did I do?” He moaned,
afraid she really had gone mad and he would suffer the consequences for some
imagined transgression.

“Because of the anonymous information you sent to the
MacKay, he kidnapped his granddaughter and took her to the Ross to offer her
for his bride.”

“Aye, I know. I heard she nearly slaughtered the MacKay’s
men. It makes me wonder where she has been all these years to learn such coarse
habits.”

“Be silent, you fool. Your ignorance in these matters has
brought this affair to the attention of Edgar himself.”

Bart smiled at this bit of information. “Good! The king will
see who he is dealing with.”

“He is dealing with me, you fool. I do not need Edgar
breathing down our necks while we are maneuvering to relieve him of a large
part of his empire.”

Realization dawned on Bart and he closed his eyes, praying
his love did not take his life for his stupidity.

“I will make retribution, sweet love. What do you what me to
do?”

Alexander aroused slowly, his head still woolly from lack of
sleep. Six days had passed since he’d last had a decent night’s rest. He was so
exhausted by the time he and his men had ridden through the gates the evening
before that he had barely made it to his bed before collapsing. They’d had
little sleep in the last few weeks, having bedded down on the ground wrapped in
only their plaids around the small campfires they had dared to burn while
roaming over enemy territory. It had taken them much longer than expected to
find Duncan and haul his scrawny little arse back to Sutherland Keep.

After blistering the boy’s ears for the stunt he had pulled,
Alexander had ridden all the way home, ignoring his young cousin throughout the
entire journey. When they had finally arrived he had not even had the strength
to punish the lad. Until he regained his vigor and could deal with the boy,
Alexander had Duncan escorted to his room and locked in. Duncan was fortunate
that exhaustion kept Alexander from beating the boy’s little bottom. Alexander
decided the lad could cool his heals under lock and key for a day or two. He
had more important things on his mind today. Time to ride to the abbey and
bring his Gusty home. With that thought in mind he rolled off his bed and made
his way to the wash basin. After a quick cleansing and a sharp blade to shave
off his beard he changed into a clean tunic and plaid, pulled on his boots and
headed down to the hall to break his fast.

“You are in an almighty hurry, Alex.” Davin’s voice was
filled with humor.

Alexander chugged a mug of ale in one long swallow then
slammed the empty tankard on the table. “I have unfinished business to attend
to, my friend. Something I have put off far too long.” He winked and grinned.

Davin roared with laughter. “Feeling a little randy, are
you? It might be time to go get your wife.” He turned to address his men. “Saddle
up! We go to bring Lady Sutherland home!”

A cheer met this announcement and there was a mass migration
toward the outside door of the hall.

* * * * *

Several hours later, Alexander’s mood had darkened. Upon his
arrival at the abbey, Sister Margaret informed him that his wife had
mysteriously disappeared.

“What do you mean, she has disappeared? How could this
happen?”

His outraged bellow filled the courtyard. Nearby a group of
nuns glanced his way, crossed themselves then took off running for the convent
house. His men mumbled under their breath and took a few steps back.

“Please calm down, Alexander.” Isabelle pleaded as she
placed a small hand on his arm. “It does no good to shout at Sister Margaret or
any of us. The fact is Augusta went off on a walk alone and she did not return.
We have sent men to search along the trail up to the high meadow and through
the forest but there has been no sign of her.”

“On her own? Why did she not take an escort? She is your
daughter! For God’s sake, woman, have you no more sense than to let her wander
away unattended?”

“Do not use that tone of voice on me, young man. I am not
the one who left her here for the past few weeks. If you wanted to keep closer
vigil on your woman, you should have taken her with you.”

Her words stopped him in his tracks. She was right but his
fear for Gusty made him lash out at everyone.

“I apologize for my rudeness, Lady Isabelle. You are right.
I should have taken her with me. It is a mistake I will not make again, I
assure you. I promise I will do my best to find her and bring her back.”
After
I blister her round little arse.
But he kept that thought to himself.

“I know you will, Alexander. I know how much my daughter
means to you. God keep you and my Augusta safe.”

Alexander sent his men to question everyone who lived within
the convent walls in an attempt to find a clue as to Gusty’s whereabouts. Out
of the entire community only one person had noticed Gusty that afternoon. A
young lad who had been carrying in firewood saw her walk out the front gate
just before noon. Everyone else they questioned could not remember seeing her.
She had simply walked out the gate and disappeared. They discovered no more
than they already knew, except roughly when she had disappeared.

Isabelle informed him she had already sent word to Malcolm
Sinclair of his daughter’s disappearance and the great chieftain had arrived to
organize a full-scale search. But as of yet no word had been sent of his
success. So Alexander began his own search. With his men, he combed the wooded
area around the lake and toward the east and the sea.

After a fruitless two days of searching, Alexander began to
wonder if maybe Gusty had decided to make her way back to the Sutherland
holding on her own and had gotten lost on the way. He turned his search in that
direction. But after spending a couple of long days looking in every ravine and
gully, down creek beds and through hidden marshes, they still found nothing.
Every day he sent messengers to the abbey to obtain news and to let Isabelle
know how their search was progressing. Bedraggled, exhausted and defeated, they
finally arrived at the keep.

There, he found a messenger awaiting him.

A messenger who wore Ross’ colors.

“The bastard will tell us nothing.” Michael, the warrior
left in charge while Alexander had gone out in search of Duncan, glared across
the hall at the messenger who sat at the table eating and drinking. “I do not
trust him. He is a Ross, after all. And we all know what scoundrels they are.”

“The men are tired and hungry, see that they are fed and
given plenty of ale. I will have a plate and a cup before I question him. See
that no one disturbs him.”

Alexander waved a hand and his tired men shuffled to the
plank tables against the opposite wall. Servants brought out platters of food,
along with skins of wine and pitchers of ale. Only the sound of men feeding
filled the great hall. As Alexander ate in leisure he wondered what Donovan
Ross wanted. They had not been on speaking terms for over two years, not since
the Incident. That he would send his messenger now did pique Alexander’s
curiosity mightily.

Finally Alexander pushed back his trencher and signaled for
the messenger to be brought to him. He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowed,
sipping his ale as he watched his guards drag the man across the room.
Alexander wore a fierce frown and as the messenger was released to stand before
him, the young man shuffled forward, sweat dripping from his brow, wringing his
hands in obvious distress.

“What is your name?”

“I am called Cory MacGill, Laird. I am come from the Ross holding.”

“Well, MacGill, what business has brought you to my gates?”

“Laird Sutherland, I have come on a most urgent mission. I
am dispatched from Lady Augusta Sinclair with a message for her husband. She is
at the moment a guest of Laird Ross and he has given her leave to send a
message. The lady was uncertain where I might find him and so I stopped by the abbey
up the river thinking to find him there. But I was informed by Lady Isabelle
MacKay that I would find Lady Augusta’s husband here at the Sutherland holding.”
He paused a moment and glanced around nervously. “I do not mean to be so
presumptuous as to question you about the man’s whereabouts. But if he does not
come to fetch his lady within a fortnight, my Laird Ross means to keep her and
wed her. The Lady Augusta gave me a personal message for her husband’s ears
alone.” He swallowed hard and motioned with his hand. “If you would just point
out the lady’s husband so I might deliver the message in private?”

“Deliver your message, man. I have no secrets from my men.”

“But, Laird Sutherland, the message is for Lady Augusta’s
husband. I cannot in good faith give the message to anyone but him.”

Alexander rose to his full height and he slammed his fist on
the tabletop, rattling cups and platters, nearly splitting the wood. The
messenger grew pale, and for a long moment the only sound in the room was the
ominous creaking of the damaged planks.

“I am Lady Augusta’s husband, you fool! Now let me hear the
message!”

“You? You are Lady Augusta’s husband? Oh dear Lord! This is
not good, not good at all. I had no notion.”

“What is the message, MacGill? I am growing impatient and
when I am impatient I have a habit of breaking a few bones. Now speak!”

“Aye, Laird Sutherland. Lady Augusta wished me to tell you
that you are not to come for her. She has no wish to return to you.” He winced
and took a step back as if he expected Alexander to attack.

“She said that? You are sure those were her exact words?” he
growled.

“Aye, Laird, those were her exact words.” He reached into
the pouch he had strapped to his waist and pulled out a small folded piece of
leather. “She said so with tears in her lovely eyes and handed me this to give
to you.” He set the leather package on the table and took a step back. “I await
your reply, Laird Sutherland.”

The messenger moved away from the table and took a seat near
the roaring fire.

Alexander stared down at the package without touching it.
His mind was in turmoil at the words that had just been delivered so matter-of-factly.

“I do not believe a word of it, Alex. Clearly the Ross means
to taunt you.”

At Davin’s words, Alexander looked over at the small man who
had delivered the message that had been more painful than a sharpened dagger
being thrust into his heart.

“Lady Gusty would never leave you willingly. You know that.”

But Alexander was not so sure. How much time had he actually
spent with Augusta Sinclair? Did he know what she was really like? The only
thing he knew for sure was that from the moment he had laid eyes on her, he
wanted her. And when the chance presented itself he had taken her. Granted, he’d
done so against her will but he had been arrogant enough to believe she would
eventually come to accept him, and he hoped she would eventually come to love
him. But now he began to think maybe he had made a mistake.

Alexander fought to keep his face blank as he picked up the
small leather packet and slowly unfolded its wrappings. Inside he found a piece
of Sutherland plaid—the piece of material he had used to bind Gusty’s wrist to
his when they had handfasted. He laid the cloth across his palm and smoothed it
out. A long, shuddering sigh escaped him as he stared down at the embroidered
letters neatly sewn along the edge of the cloth.

A. S. + A. S. Forever

A furious grin split his face as he crushed the piece of
plaid in his fist, raised his head and looked out over the somber faces of his
men and servants.

“I go to fetch Lady Augusta home!”

A deafening roar of approval echoed off the walls.

Alexander raised his hands and signaled for silence. After a
moment his men quieted down.

A movement near the door brought his attention to the Ross
messenger, who’d apparently taken it into his head to make his escape. Davin
signaled his men and the guards seized the messenger and hauled him away to
become an unwilling guest of the Sutherland until he returned.

“The Ross demands that Lady Augusta be fetched by her
husband or he will not return her. I will take only a small force to retrieve
her. Davin and Violet will accompany me into Ross Castle while the rest wait in
the woods. We leave immediately.”

“But the messenger said she did not want to come back. What
of that?”

Alexander opened his fist and held high the scrap of tartan.

“This says she lies.”

* * * * *

After leaving his main force hidden in a small ravine a
couple of miles from Ross Castle, Alexander and a small contingency, consisting
of Davin, Violet and two other warriors, made their way through the rugged
terrain that led up to the Ross’ holding. They were less than a mile from the keep
when Alexander first became aware they were being followed. As they passed into
a wooded copse, he decided to make a stand against a chance attack. The small
closed area was a good place to hide and prepare a counterattack. He cursed
himself for his failing instincts that had led them to this impasse in the
first place. Throughout his entire life he had learned to make split-second
decisions based solely on his gut feelings. He could count on one hand the
number of times he had been wrong. But in this matter he had been caught
completely off guard. He just hoped his men would not pay the price for his
lack of attention while his mind had been on other things.

At Alexander’s signal, Davin pulled Violet off her pony. He
carried her under his arm as if she were a sack of grain and deposited her
behind a fallen log.

“Stay down,” he told her and then took a position so his
body would shield hers from the enemy.

Alexander took the horses forward around the bend in the
trail, thinking to double back. He hoped their tracks would fool whoever
followed them into thinking they had proceeded on through the forest. If they
were fortunate, their deception would not be discovered until it was too late.
Stashing the animals just a short distance from the path, Alexander made his
way back to a hiding place along the trail—one that gave him a good vantage
point as well as concealed him from view. Then they waited.

The sounds of the forest seemed unusually loud as they hid
behind the green barriers of foliage and trees. Alexander’s breathing grew
shallow and labored. Blood thrummed through his veins fierce and hot, preparing
him for a fight that could very well prove to end in death. In this wild
country a man had to be strong—strong enough to take what he wanted and to hold
on to it. Here in the Highlands only the strong survived.

Time seemed to stand still. Then the snapping of a twig
under foot announced the arrival of the enemy but Alexander heard only the
plodding sound of one horse on the path. He met Davin’s gaze and the question Alexander
saw there mirrored the one running through his mind. Why was there only one
animal moving in their direction?