When a Laird Loves a Lady (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 1) (21 page)

Once they found the trail, which was not where
Archibald had told Alex it was, they followed it for hours to no avail. By the
time they rode back into the courtyard of the MacLean hold, the hour was very
late and Iain was sure Marion would be sleeping. After they saw to their
horses, several of the men, including Rory Mac, Iain, and Alex, headed to the
great hall for some drink to warm their bones. But after only being in the hall
with the raucous men for a short time, Iain stood, knowing he only desired his
bed and his sleeping wife in his arms.

Alex and Rory Mac both grinned at
him.

“Up to see yer wife?” Alex asked.

Iain nodded. “She’ll be asleep.”

Rory Mac snorted. “That never stops
me with Alanna.”

“Which must be why Alanna is always
so testy,” Iain retorted.

Alex snickered, took a sip of his
wine, and then stood. “I’m to bed, as well. The hunt will start at dawn, if ye
still intend to ride with us,” he said with a challenge.

“Of course,” Iain said. “Sleep is
for the weak.”

“I sleep every other night,” Alex
boasted. Then he bid the remaining men good night and motioned Iain to the
door.

“Every other night?” Rory Mac
commented, falling in step with Alex and Iain as they departed the great hall
and headed toward the bedchambers. “I only sleep every four nights,” he said,
grinning. “Ye can be certain I’ll be hunting.”

As they turned the corner, they ran
into Archibald, who was oddly—or so it seemed to Iain—lurking about the hall
still fully dressed.

“Did ye find the knight?” Archibald
demanded, and Iain concluded the man had been awaiting their return only to
make sure he had not failed where they’d succeeded. Had he been stalking the
corridors since the moment they’d left? Archibald was as proud as he had ever
been.

“Nay,” Alex said and brushed past
Archibald. Tipping his hand in the air, the MacLean laird disappeared down the
hall.

Iain lingered for a moment and
faced Archibald, and when it appeared the man was going to go around him, he
stepped in Archibald’s path. Rory Mac moved to Iain’s side.

“The trail was nae at the stones as
ye said,” Iain said to Archibald.

“The trail was there,” the man
retorted. “Ye must have missed it, which is why
I’m
the best tracker.
Now if ye dunnae mind, MacLeod? It’s late and I’m tired.”

It was pointless to argue with the
man. Clearly, he’d not relent that he’d been wrong or confused, though either
possibility seemed odd to Iain given what Alex had said of his cousin’s
tracking abilities. Maybe they had missed the trail. The one they’d found
hadn’t been that far away from where Archibald had said it’d be. Iain moved
aside and motioned for Rory Mac to do the same.

Once Archibald disappeared down the
corridor, Rory Mac spoke. “He needs a lesson in humility.”

“Aye,” Iain agreed and started
toward his bedchamber. “A man who kinnae admit he’s wrong has a lifetime of
problems to come.”

Rory Mac grinned. “If he were in
our clan, I’d be happy to teach him with my fists.”

“I’m sure ye would.” Iain chuckled,
then paused. “I’ll see ye in the courtyard in the morning.”

Rory Mac mumbled his farewell, and
Iain opened his door and entered his bedchamber as quietly as possible. The
moonlight trickled into the space, bathing the form of his sleeping wife on the
bed, and he moved toward her. Unclothing quickly, he carefully slipped in
beside her, but she immediately stirred and turned toward him.

“Where have you been?” she asked
drowsily.

Iain quickly told her what had
happened, and he could see Marion worrying her lip in the moonlight.

“If Archibald really did see a
knight, it had to be one of Froste’s men,” she said.

“It is likely,” he said, pulling
her into the crook of his arm. “But ye’re safe here. Alex has increased his
guards threefold, both at the stronghold and throughout his lands. By dawn, no
Englishman will be able to make a move on MacLean land without encountering a
MacLean. So if Froste sent more men, they’ll nae have a hope of escaping.”

Marion pressed up on her elbows,
her long hair falling over the front of his shoulder and onto his chest. “Iain,
will you tell me about David? My father never spoke to me except to order me
about, and I’d like to know how David came to be captive in England.”

Iain bit back a tired sigh. He
didn’t have the heart to deny her, though he didn’t have much time to sleep.
Sleep could wait. Making his wife feel valued could not.

“For years, David has been fighting
to stop yer king from crowning another, a man of King Edward’s choosing, as
King of Scots. Do ye ken about King Edward putting his apprentice, Edward
Balliol, on the throne?”

She nodded.

“Balliol was a fraud, ye ken?”

“Do you mean he made a false claim
to rightfully be King of Scots?”

“Aye,” Iain replied, running his
hand up and down the length of her back and then lower over her delectable
bottom. She sighed and snuggled back against his chest. Desire for his wife
flared once more, in spite of how bone-weary he was feeling. He wondered
groggily, and with a great deal of amusement, if he’d always hunger for her as
he did now.

She tapped her fingers on his
chest. “Are you not going to continue?”

He chuckled. “Aye. I’m sorry. Yer
pretty bottom stole my attention.”

She gave him a coquettish smile.
“I’m pleased to hear I can distract you, and I’ll be happy to distract you
further…after you tell me a bit more.”

Iain purposely rested his palm on
her backside and then spoke. “David was sent to France for his safety for the
brief time Balliol was in power. But while he was gone, his representative
fought to restore David to power and succeeded. David returned in 1341 and took
control of Scotland. But he was captured by King Edward when David invaded
England on behalf of the French, who were fighting the English in Normandy.” He
glanced at Marion, who was listening intently, and kissed the top of her head
before continuing. “David is a worthy king. He loves Scotland and he wants
peace with England, but he will nae lie down and let King Edward trample on him
to get it.”

She nodded. “Do your people love
David?”

“
Our
people,” he corrected
her gently.

A grin spread across her beautiful
face. “Yes, our people.”

“Aye, they do,” he replied and
trailed his fingers from her bottom up toward her breasts. He traced the curve
of her left breast, and she wiggled against him.

“Are you trying to tell me
something, my lord?” Her voice was teasing, and he answered her question with a
long, drugging kiss. The intensity of desire that sprang forth surprised him,
but what surprised him more was that Marion’s desire seemed to match his own,
even at this late hour. Soon they were locked together in passion, which ended
in them tangled in each other’s arms and Iain totally sated and exhausted.

He closed his eyes, thinking only
to rest them for a brief moment, but he found he did not have the strength or
the desire to open them again.

A pounding at the door woke Iain. His eyes flew open
and he started to sit up when he remembered Marion was lying on him. He eased
out of bed, cursing the fool who dared to bang so loudly on his door. Wrapping his
plaid around him, he stalked to the door and threw it open.

Alex stood there grinning at him.
“I see ye’re nae ready. Are ye nae coming with us, then? Too tired, perchance?”
Alex teased, while trying to peer around Iain.

Iain shoved his friend back into
the hall. “I’ll be there presently.” With that, he shut the door, quickly
dressed, then went over to Marion and gently shook her. He was about to give up
on rousing her to say farewell when she opened one eye.

“Must we wake already?” she groaned
sweetly.

“Nay,” he said and pressed a gentle
kiss to her lips. “I’m meant to hunt with Alex this morning. Ye may sleep as
long as ye wish.”

“Mm-hmm,” she responded, her eye
shutting.

He smiled and opened the door,
glancing back over his shoulder at his wife, already asleep once more.

“How did you do this?” Marion asked later that
morning as she kneeled in front of Angus and tended to his foot.

Angus’s face flushed red, and his
gaze flickered from Marion to Bridgette, who was leaning forward to see over
Marion’s shoulder.

“I told ye,” Angus grumbled. “I was
trying te help that clot-heid Archibald after he fell into an animal trap, and
he pulled me in with him. When I hit the ground, I hurt my foot.”

Archibald stood facing them, and he
glared at Angus. “I told ye three times already, I did nae intend to pull ye
in, ye stubborn fool. I outweigh ye! I told ye to keep yer footing. I should
nae even be here,” he growled. “I should be on the hunt, but the
laird
once again sees fit to punish me, though I’ve nae done a thing wrong.”

Marion tried not to take offense
that Archibald considered guarding her and Bridgette with Angus a punishment.
She understood he was angry about being forced to stay behind. The two men
continued to argue as Marion wrapped a cloth around Angus’s swollen, rather
bluish foot.

She paused for a moment, blew a
strand of hair dangling in her eyes out of her face, and exchanged a long look
with Bridgette and motioned for her to follow. “I’ll be back in a moment,”
Marion told Angus and Archibald, but they were bickering and neither man
acknowledged her.

Once Marion and Bridgette were far
enough away, Marion spoke. “Angus cannot join me to visit the seer as intended.
And I don’t think going alone is wise, even with the guards about.”

Bridgette nodded and nibbled on her
lip. Marion had told her earlier that morning when she borrowed a fresh gown
that she intended to go to the seer. Bridgette had understood and found Marion
a thick cloak to take the woman. “I could go with ye again.”

Marion frowned. “I thought Alex
told you not to leave the courtyard today.”

Bridgette shrugged. “He did, but—”

“Then you should not,” Marion
interrupted, thinking on her talk with Iain last night about why he gave the
orders he did. Alex likely wanted her to remain in the hold because of the
possibility of one of Froste’s men lurking about, which was why Marion thought
taking Archibald with her to the seer was now the best solution since Angus was
hurt. She simply had to go to the seer. She could not explain the pull, but it
was there. And as for being safe… Well, guards were now everywhere and
Archibald was a fierce warrior. Besides that, she’d borrowed a dagger from
Bridgette, which she was wearing in a sheath around her waist. “Would you stay
with Angus so he’ll rest his foot and then Archibald can come with me?
Otherwise—”

“Aye!” Bridgette exclaimed. “Ye
dunnae need to say more. I’d do near anything to be rid of Archibald for the
day.” The two women giggled as they strolled back to Archibald and Angus, who
were still bickering.

Marion quickly finished dressing
Angus’s foot, and then she stood and stretched, her body a bit sore from
yesterday with Iain. The mere thought of the intimacy they had shared heated
her cheeks and made her belly flutter. She’d woken this morning shocked at her
boldness. She could not say what had come over her. Well, she could—
lust
.
Her husband made her lustful. And Iain’s kindness and thoughtfulness in taking
the time to tell her about David made her heart throb with pure happiness. He
thought her important enough to have a meaningful conversation with him. The
thought made her cheeks ache to grin, but she managed to refrain. She didn’t
want to explain a silly smile to anyone. She sighed with contentment, then gave
herself a shake. Standing around sighing would not do. There was something
important that must be done.

She set her hands on her hips and
hoped her expression looked stern as she stared down at Angus, who sat on a log
looking very disgruntled. “You must stay off that foot today,” she commanded.

“Bah!” he grumbled. He promptly
stood up and then winced in pain as he stumbled backward and gripped his
injured foot. He’d have fallen on his bottom if Archibald had not moved quickly
and caught him.

Archibald deposited him, none too
gently, back on the log. “Sit there, ye stubborn fool. When ye’re ready to go
inside, I’ll help ye.”

Marion scowled at Angus. “If you
don’t stay off that foot, you’ll make it worse.”

He didn’t look as if he cared, so
she decided to lie a bit. “I’ve seen a man lose a foot because it became so
swollen that the blood stopped flowing to it.”

Angus went pale as he stared at his
foot. “Who?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “You
didn’t know him. Just a man from the village.”

Angus nodded. “If I stay off it
today…?”

“I’m quite sure it will be much
better by tomorrow,” she supplied.

“It will have te be,” he grumbled
as he glared at Archibald. “Help me into the great hall. Marion, ye can sit
with me there until Iain returns.”

“I’ll sit with ye,” Bridgette
quickly offered, sliding Marion a knowing look.

“Ye can sit with us, as well,”
Angus said, not realizing that Marion intended to leave.

Marion gave Angus what she hoped
was a convincing smile so he’d not argue too much. “I mean to visit the seer.”

“Ye kinnae—”

“I can,” she said firmly.
“Archibald can come with me, and you can watch Bridgette.” Marion smiled
sweetly at Archibald. “Would you mind coming with me?”

“If that’s what Bridgette wishes
and if she vows to stay with Angus.”

“It is, and I do,” Bridgette
instantly replied as she handed Marion the cloak she’d been holding while
Marion tended to Angus. As Marion took the cloak, Bridgette grasped her hand
and drew her near. “Will ye ask the seer something for me?” she whispered.

Marion nodded.

“Will ye ask her if my brother will
be safe should I leave here?”

“I will,” Marion replied, “but
where are you intending to go?”

“With ye,” Bridgette said in a
hushed tone. “Ye must coax yer husband into agreeing that ye need a friend when
ye go to the den of women who will be waiting to torment ye.”

Marion frowned. “Who’s waiting to
torment me?”

“Catriona’s sisters, of course. She
has two, and they’re going to hate ye.”

“Why would they hate me? I’ve done
nothing to them.”

“Ye are a naive lass,” Bridgette
said, matter-of-fact. “They’re going to hate ye cause Catriona is dead and
ye’re alive. Nae that they need any more reason, but if ye need one it’s known
by many that Catriona’s eldest sister, Fiona, has been hoping Iain would take
her for his wife.”

The news that she had more to
contend with than her husband not wishing to ever love again bothered her, but
there was nothing she could do about it currently, so she moved to Angus and patted
him on the shoulder. “Stay off that foot!”

“I’ll ensure he does,” Bridgette
promised.

Archibald and Marion helped Angus
into the hall and got him situated in a chair while Bridgette fetched him some
food. Once Marion was satisfied that Angus would do as she had said, she and
Archibald set out for the seer’s cave.

They walked in silence for a good
while, and Marion decided Archibald would likely not speak at all unless she
spoke first. He seemed a man of few words. She glanced at him from under her
lashes as they climbed the mountain, and he held branches back for her to pass
with ease. For being cousin to Alex and Bridgette, Archibald looked nothing
like either of them. Bridgette and Alex were both tall, lean people. Though
Archibald was tall, he was certainly not lean. Everything about him was thick
from his chest, to his neck, and even to his fingers. And whereas Alex and
Bridgette both had heads of unruly hair, Archibald had almost no hair left on
his head, which was surprising considering how young he looked.

“Were you reared near Alex and
Bridgette?” Marion asked.

He didn’t look at her as he
answered. “Aye.”

Marion scowled. It was going to be
a long walk there and back if they didn’t speak at all. “Do your parents live
here, as well?”

“Nay. My mother died in labor and
my father, Alex’s father’s brother, was killed in battle when I was but a wee
bairn.”

“I’m so sorry,” she replied. “Was
it a battle with another clan?”

“Aye, the Campbells. But my father
was nae killed by a Campbell.”

Marion frowned. “What happened to
him?”

“Alex’s father cut him open with
his sword,” he said, his tone cold and unforgiving.

Marion gasped. “He murdered him?”

Archibald did not answer for a
minute, and Marion could see his jaw clenching and releasing. Finally, he said,
“Nay. It was accidental.”

She blew out a relieved breath.
“That must have been awful for him to be accountable for his own brother’s
death.”

Archibald shrugged and kicked a
branch out of the way. “I dunnae ken. He never talked about it. And when I was
old enough to ask what had happened to my father, Alistair refused to speak of
it. And he’d ordered everyone else to nae speak of it, either.” He motioned her
to continue walking.

“Then how did you learn of it?” she
asked, glancing to her right and over the same ledge Bridgette had fallen off
the day before. Her stomach clenched with the thought of what could have been.

Archibald held his hand out to her
to help her up a rocky embankment. For a moment, she hesitated, and he laughed.
“I vow nae to tell yer husband ye took my hand if ye dunnae want.”

She scowled at Archibald as she set
her hand firmly in his. “Iain is not the jealous sort.”

The Scot howled with laughter, and
he continued to chuckle until they were off the embankment and headed up the
steep incline. He released her hand and then spoke. “Iain MacLeod may have nae
been one to be jealous afore, but I can assure ye, he is now. One but has to
see his face when he’s lookin’ at ye to know that.”

“What is it you think you see,
Archibald?” Marion didn’t particularly care to discuss Iain with this man,
though she wasn’t quite sure why. Perchance it was his claim to know so much
about Iain.

Archibald didn’t look back at her
as he walked. “Possession burns in his eyes and wavers in his voice. I never
saw or heard that from him afore. I dunnae think he even knows about it himself
yet.”

If Iain was jealous, it meant he cared
a bit. Yet, why would he be jealous over her but had not been over Catriona?
Marion bit her lip. Did that mean Iain didn’t trust her to be true?

“I’m sure,” she said slowly, not
wanting to appear as if she were searching for answers about her husband, though
that’s exactly what she was doing, “Iain showed jealousy over his first wife.”

“Nae that I ever seen,” Archibald
said. “But then, he and Catriona knew each other all their lives. Ye ken?”

No, she didn’t
ken
. What did
that have to do with jealousy?

She clamped her mouth shut, not
wishing to talk anymore. Her mind swirled as they walked in silence, thoughts
of how she’d never compare to Catriona rising up to torment her. Heavens, she
could not be jealous of a dead woman! It was pathetic, and she knew better than
to compare herself to Catriona. They were different, as Iain had said, but
nevertheless, by the time they reached the seer’s cave, Marion’s stomach was a
big bundle of tight knots.

The old woman came out from the
cave before they could even call for her. The woman’s gaze narrowed on
Archibald, and her nostrils flared. Marion turned toward him and was surprised
by the guarded look on his face, as if he had secrets he thought the seer might
discern.

The seer motioned Marion to come
closer, and when she was within arm’s length, the woman grabbed her hand and
pulled her even nearer. “Did ye have any more questions for me today, my lady?”

Marion was about to say no when a
question popped into her head. She leaned even closer to the woman so Archibald
would not overhear. “You said yesterday that Iain would fly the Fairy Flag, did
you not?”

“Aye,” the seer responded in a low
tone, releasing Marion’s hand.

“Can you tell me what the Fairy
Flag is and why it’s flown?” She had been too embarrassed to ask yesterday when
Bridgette was present; Marion hadn’t wanted to appear as if she knew nothing of
her Scottish heritage, even though she didn’t.

The seer motioned for Marion to
move even farther away from Archibald, and when they stood inside the cave, she
spoke. “The Fairy Flag is the most prized possession of the MacLeod clan. Their
honor and the very existence of their clan depend on the preservation of the
flag.”

“Where did it come from?” Marion
asked.

The seer smiled knowingly. “It was
a gift to a MacLeod chief from his fairy wife. She was allowed to marry the man
on the condition that she had to return to the land of the fairies after twenty
years with him. When twenty years came and she had to go, the fairy gave the
flag to her husband. She told him that if a grave time of need came and he were
to wave it, help would come—but only on three occasions. She warned him that on
the third waving, either the clan would have total victory over their enemies
or would be destroyed.”