Lytge Sutherland surprised them all by living to see the dawn. The priest still gave him last rites, because no one expected him to rise from his bed, except perhaps as a specter. His captains were grim faced as they debated what to do.
Daphne didn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the fingers pointing at her. She paced around the confines of the star chamber, freezing every time she heard the door move. It was impossible not to think retaliation might land upon her.
It ended up being only the wind, but she couldn’t dismiss her fear. It was like a living thing inside her. It felt like a bird, flapping its wings frantically to be free. She paced some more, every moment expecting to hear the bells tolling the news of the earl’s passing. Each hour felt like a year. And yet, part of her wanted to savor every moment, because she feared it might be her last. Many had taken Sandra’s words to heart and looked at Daphne with hate. No one came with wood for the fire, and more retainers had arrived to guard her door.
Damn Sandra and her accusations…
Her temper flared up, keeping her warm, and she didn’t bother to counsel herself to forgiveness. Sandra Fraser would receive no kindness from her. It would seem they had something in common at last. They hated each other. The emotion was so strong it threatened to consume her. Daphne warned herself to keep the blaze of hatred under control, because she would not become like Sandra. Norris was not a possession; he was the man she loved. Nonetheless, it was possible his own people might hang her before he returned. If Sandra had her way, Daphne would never see another sunset.
***
“Enough of this indecision.” Sandra Fraser walked boldly into the private chambers of the Earl of Sutherland. His captains were seated there and glared at her for interrupting. “Daphne MacLeod should be hung. Immediately,” she announced. “A message needs to be sent to anyone who would harm a Sutherland.”
There were eight men in the room, all of them wearing three feathers in the sides of their bonnets. Two were pointing up, the third down, declaring their status to the rest of the clan. Sandra refused to allow their rank to intimidate her. Her potion had failed her, so it was up to her to salvage the situation.
“Daphne MacLeod was alone with the earl—”
“So were ye,” one of the captains remarked.
“But he did nae collapse after meeting with me,” Sandra said, defending herself.
“That does nae absolve ye of being the one who poisoned him.”
Sandra drew herself up as regal as a queen. “How dare ye! I had no reason to harm me future father-by-marriage. Daphne MacLeod is the one who needed to make sure Norris did nae have a father any longer. It’s well known Norris respects his father. If his father were gone, she would have the chance to remain here and tempt Norris back into her bed. The MacLeods are destitute. Even a Sutherland bastard would help them bleed Sutherland dry.”
Some of the captains glanced at one another, silently agreeing with her. Sandra walked slowly among them, keeping her steps even and enticing to dull their wits. She drew in a deep breath and ordered herself to relax. This was not the first time she had twisted men into doing her bidding.
“Daphne MacLeod has bled, and Norris knew it before he left.” She turned and looked at them. “He told me how relieved he was to be rid of her hold on him. She doesn’t want to return to her lands and the shame of being a soiled woman. The earl swore to me he was going to see her on her way this morning. That is why she poisoned him, and do nae think she will content herself with only one victim. One of ye will be next, or perhaps meself, if we do nae take action to protect ourselves.”
“Perhaps… we should question her,” one of the captains offered. “And any who might offer evidence in this matter.”
“Aye.”
“A sound action.”
The captains agreed, and Sandra bit her lip to hide her displeasure. She needed more anger from them, more passion. Daphne needed to be gone before Norris returned, or all was lost for her.
***
The cook of Dunrobin had his bonnet completely off and was busy worrying the edge of it with his fingers. The great hall was deathly silent, something he’d heard only in the darkest hours of the night. Most of the benches were full. The day’s tasks were left undone, because everyone wanted to hear what Daphne had to say. Hear her interrogation, actually.
She held her chin up and stood in front of the table where she’d had supper with Lytge the night before. The cook was on one end, while she stood to the left. Yes, in the sinister corner, already convicted it seemed.
“I found her in the stillroom, sure enough, and she never asked permission or made it known she was going in there,” the cook said.
“Did ye have the keys?” one of the captains asked.
“I did, indeed, but we were preparing for a feast, so many of the cabinets were unlocked throughout the day.”
There were whispers in the hall, and the oldest captain slashed his hand through the air. Silence returned immediately.
“Ye are dismissed. Return to the kitchens.”
The next man called was one of the retainers whom Lytge had sent away from his private chamber the night before.
“The earl sent ye away?” the older captain asked.
“Aye, he did. He was in a dark humor,” the retainer answered.
The whispers began again. This time, even a slashing motion wasn’t enough to quiet them quickly. Daphne could feel the noose tightening around her throat. She suddenly resented the years she would be deprived of. Nevertheless, she wasn’t willing to quit.
“I did nae poison the earl,” she stated in a clear voice.
The hall erupted into chaos. Men shouted, and women pointed at her.
“And why in the hell would she have, when I’d asked the lass to wed me before I left?”
People turned around so fast, several ended up sprawled on the floor. Benches toppled over, but Norris didn’t pay any attention to it. He paused for a moment at the end of the aisle, shooting a furious look at his clan members.
“And why the hell are nae the lot of ye in church, where yer jabbering might do me father some good?”
Norris was furious, but he was the finest sight she’d ever seen. Daphne couldn’t stop herself from moving toward him. One of the younger retainers set to guard her put his arm out to stop her. There was a snarl from Norris as he came down the aisle at a near run. “Get yer hands off me wife-to-be!”
The captains had risen, but Norris wasn’t impressed with their show of respect.
The oldest captain spoke up. “Ye should nae shelter her. Even the laird’s family is nae above justice when the crime is one of attempted murder.”
A muscle on the side of Norris’s jaw twitched, and she was sure she had never seen him so angry. He drew in a stiff breath and glared at his father’s captains.
“I am not afraid of their questions,” Daphne insisted. “For I have nothing to hide.”
Norris lifted his hand. Everyone waited on his next words.
“If ye are going to investigate this matter, I am left wondering why me father’s page is nae here?”
The captains looked startled; then one of the younger ones spoke. “We believe the earl was poisoned when he took Mistress MacLeod into his private chambers and dismissed his retainers.”
“The definition of an investigation is that ye question everyone, nae just the person ye would like to find guilty of the crime,” Norris growled. “Ye are finished here, and ye may thank Christ for the fact that Broen MacNicols sent a hawk to Faolan Chisholms with news that had me ride through the night to return home. There would have been hell to pay if ye harmed me bride.”
The young captains ducked their chins in the face of Norris’s displeasure, but the older captain still refused to bow. “If she truly is yer choice, ye must allow this investigation to continue, else there will never be an end to this matter.”
Norris didn’t like what the man had to say, but the whispers that rose up behind him could not be ignored. “Then it will proceed once I’ve had some time to make sure anyone who might have had a hand in this is nae overlooked.”
Gahan suddenly appeared and shook his head. Norris sent a hard look at his father’s captains. “Where is Sandra Fraser?”
Even Daphne was confused, for the girl had been standing nearby just a few moments ago. An icy touch settled on her nape, and she pointed to where Sandra had last been.
“Find her,” Norris barked. Gahan directed Norris’s men while the hall erupted into movement.
Daphne didn’t get a chance to breathe a sigh of relief, because Norris caught her up against him, squeezing her so hard she couldn’t draw breath. She didn’t care. It was the most perfect embrace ever. He buried his head in her hair and inhaled.
“I’m so sorry, lass. I swear I will never leave ye so unprotected again.”
She trembled, wanting nothing more than to remain in his arms, but the activity around them stole his attention. He stepped back and cupped her face. For a single moment, his expression softened.
“Forgive me, lass, but I can nae leave yer safety to chance.” He rubbed her cheeks for just a moment before releasing her. “Gahan, make sure she is secure. I must see me father.”
Gahan stepped up and actually gripped her arm. It wasn’t his grip that hurt her, though; it was the sight of Norris walking away. The night of tension began to take its toll on her. She shivered, and her knees knocked as she tried to walk. The need to vomit almost overwhelmed her though there was nothing in her stomach. Gahan looked at her oddly and moved closer, intent on lifting her off her feet. She drew in a stiff breath and leveled her chin before he could carry out his intention. There was only one man she wanted cradling her.
Isla caught up to them, having been separated from her during the questioning. “They made her sleep in the star chamber again and refused her a meal this morning.”
Gahan growled softly and looked at the men behind him. “Clear a path up to the lady’s solar.” He looked at his sister. “Three of ye escort me sister to the kitchen.”
His tone was as solid as stone. His men responded instantly, clearing the stairs. No one protested when they opened the door to the solar and inclined their heads while she entered.
“Really… I am nae hungry, and the star chamber is a fine one.”
Gahan reached up and tugged on the corner of his bonnet, but there was something burning in his eyes that didn’t fit with the meek gesture. He waved the retainers back, and the door closed behind them.
“Yer place is here.” His tone was soft but unyielding. “Only a guilty person would believe they should accept being pushed out of their place.”
His words rang with a solid truth, one that made her lift her chin with pride. He offered her a nod before leaving her.
The moment she heard the doors close behind her in her chamber, her body won. Her muscles refused to hold her up any longer, and she sank down into a chair near the window.
She owed God more thanks than she would ever be able to voice.
***
Sandra Fraser was frightened. No! She was never afraid! Girls who did not know how to manipulate the world into doing their bidding were victims of fear. She was confident; her mother had taught her how to be quick-witted and never allow a situation to overwhelm her.
Norris Sutherland would be hers! However, she needed to get rid of Daphne MacLeod; that much was clear. It was sad, actually, because she would have enjoyed breaking Daphne before throwing her into the gutter, but being the cause of her demise would also be satisfying.
Sandra hurried down the hallways, resisting the urge to duck into one of the storage rooms. She would only look guilty when she was found. There had to be a way to aim more suspicion at Daphne. Even if Norris didn’t believe it, he would have to hand her over if there was too much evidence against her.
First, Sandra needed to make sure she wasn’t caught with the remains of the poison. She ducked into the garderobe and pulled the little flower hair ornament from her hair. It was such a shame to lose it. Many artisans wouldn’t even make them, because they feared being tortured when someone fell victim to the poison hidden inside of them. But she couldn’t be caught with it. She held it out over the seat and pulled her arm back before releasing it. What if she became a victim herself?
Sandra opened the center of the flower and gauged the amount of poison left. She would have to be very careful. If she took only half a dose, it wouldn’t kill her.
Yes… yes… The plan began to form quickly. She heard people in the hallway, confirming that Norris had ended Daphne’s trial. She used her fingernail to scoop up some of the paste and pushed it into her mouth without hesitation. The second dose was hard to force down her throat, because she was already gagging. Nonetheless, she managed it and closed the flower before dropping it into the toilet.
It sank beneath the muck, giving her a moment of satisfaction. Then her body began to convulse. She fought the urge to vomit, needing to be weakened by the poison. It would be the only way to damn Daphne MacLeod. So she managed.
***
His father had never looked worse. Norris stood near the bed and lowered himself to one knee to be closer. He could hear the soft rattle of his father’s breath. It sounded dry and brittle, like a winter blizzard. Like death…
He refused to count his father dead while Lytge still drew breath. It wasn’t easy to cultivate hope when he looked at the pasty-white skin of his sire’s face. His lips were pale, and he was as still as death.
Norris shook his head. If he was going to think of death, it would be the demise he had planned for Sandra Fraser. There was no doubt in his mind who the culprit was. But there was doubt aplenty among his people…
He didn’t want to doubt he could clear Daphne’s name, but if his father died, it was very possible there would be no way to prove her innocence. It was also possible his father would side with his captains.
Norris growled and stood up. He would not be torn over the issue of hoping his father lived. If fate wanted to test him, so be it. He turned toward the door and the battle waiting for him. There was no way he would allow Daphne to be lost.
***
“Grinding yer teeth will nae solve this puzzle.” Norris shot Gahan a glare and shook his head when he noticed the dark circles ringing his brother’s eyes. They were both exhausted.
“She’s the guilty one. It’s undisputable now that Clarrisa found that sleeping draught in the cider,” Norris muttered. He was only repeating what he’d said several times already.
“Ye can bet the bitch will dispute it,” Gahan snapped. “I imagine she will nae be quick to offer a confession on poisoning our father, either.”
There was raw violence in his brother’s tone and rage in his dark eyes. Norris paced back and forth in front of his father’s private table in his sanctum.
“Those damned pages are nae going to make it easy for me to confirm that one of them left me father’s goblet unattended on the high table.”
“Nae,” Gahan confirmed. “They are protecting one another.”
Someone pounded on the door and threw it open before Norris gave permission. Asgree was flushed from running. She stumbled when she tried to lower herself, because she was in such a hurry. “We found… Sandra… She’s been poisoned.”
***
His father’s captains were already assembled outside the room Sandra Fraser had been taken to. Their faces were grim as they looked through the doorway at the flurry of activity near the bed. The oldest, Ronald, shot Norris a hard look and spoke up. “This is damning evidence. There is only one who would gain from both yer father and Mistress Fraser being dead.”
“Ye’re forgetting meself, Ronald.” The other captains shook their heads, but Norris nodded. “Aye, meself. Ye heard that correctly. I want Daphne MacLeod for me wife, and Sandra Fraser knows it well.”
Ronald looked back at the woman convulsing on the bed. “Ye can nae mean to suggest that she poisoned herself? No one would do such a thing.”
“It makes sense when ye hear from Broen MacNicols that the cider we all enjoyed at Deigh Tower was laced with a sleeping draught. I was under its influence when Sandra snuck into me bed.”
“Ye have proof of that?” Ronald asked.
“Proof the cider was tampered with,” Norris responded. “Lady MacNicols found the evidence the next day, after the cider claimed another victim—the brewmaster. They sent a hawk to Chisholms’s land to intercept me. Thank Christ the bird flew straight and true.”
“That is nae proof it were Sandra Fraser who done the deed,” Ronald argued, looking past the doorway at the woman suffering inside the chamber. Her moans were pitiful.
“She was the only one who claimed to have any memory after drinking that cider, and she somehow made it into me bed.”
“It would nae be the first time a man woke up with a lass after raising a few mugs of cider.”
Norris felt his temper nearing the breaking point. Ronald had the other captains agreeing with him.
Always dispense justice, Son, else ye’ll be no more than a tyrant… and men do nae truly follow tyrants. Nae when it matters, that is. Remember Sauchieburn. The king was a man who did nae give his subjects any respect. He treated them like cattle and, in the end, they left him to his deserved fate.
His father’s words echoed in his mind, rising up from a memory that was branded deep into his subconscious. It wasn’t his father’s message that bothered him so much; it was the way his father’s captains were looking at him with doubt.
“Now is nae the time or place. We needs hear from Lady MacNicols and their brewmaster to see if more light might be shed upon the matter. Once me father awakens, he can make it clear what he approves of and does nae wish.”
Ronald nodded. “And if yer father does nae awaken?”
“He will,” Norris announced. He turned and left his father’s men, but not before he saw approval in their eyes. He just wished the sight brought him more confidence than it did. Instead, he walked away, struggling to fend off the doubt trying to destroy his happiness. How could he be so close to having life become the perfection he’d heard of only in ballads, only to have fate turn against him? He wanted to believe it would be resolved, but too many factors seemed set against him. For the first time in his life, he considered leaving Sutherland. The idea gained strength as he made his way up to the chamber Daphne was being held in. His father still lingered, tearing his emotions. However, the moment he opened the door and caught sight of Daphne, he knew without a doubt he’d leave everything behind if it was the only way to spare her life.
***
Daphne could not sit and make lace. None of the books seemed able to hold her attention. The solar was filled with all manner of fine entertainments, and all she managed to do was pace. Around and around until at last she heard the door opening. Relief surged through her to be done with waiting.
Despite that relief, when the door opened, she trembled. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt heat flushing her cheeks. For a moment, she stood frozen, simply content to stare at the man she’d missed so greatly. Norris filled the doorway and ducked to enter the solar. Fatigue was etched into his face, but what captivated her was the welcome she witnessed filling his eyes.
He held out his hand. “Come, lass. I’ve a mind to hide from the world. It has been most unkind as of late.”
There was no careful thought, only pure enjoyment as she placed her hand into his. For a moment, his gaze was locked with hers, and there was an answering flicker of bliss in his green eyes.
He turned and pulled her out of the chamber. His retainers tugged on the corners of their bonnets and also stared at their clasped hands. A soft chuckle followed them up the stairs, making her blush hotter. Norris spun her loose once they entered his chamber. The windows were open, allowing the sound of the sea inside. There was no sign of Bacchus. Norris looked for the peregrine, frowning when he was sure the raptor was definitely not there.
“Are ye hoping for word from someone?”
Norris untied his sword and placed it on the rack near his bed. She heard him make a low sound of frustration as he turned to look at her.
“Will ye run away with me, Daphne? Live common but free at me side?”
Sincerity shone in his eyes, and it twisted like a dagger through her heart.
“I would never take ye away from here. Ye are a part of this place, these people.”
Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but love him more for making the offer. Tears filled her eyes, and he growled softly, moving toward her and cupping her face. He leaned down to kiss one wet track and then the opposite one.
“Maybe I am a fairy after all.”
He lifted his head, staring at her in obvious confusion.
“I destroy the men who are drawn to me.”
Norris hooked her around the waist when she would have stepped away from him. She pressed a hand against his chest but wasn’t really interested in fending him off. She ended up in his embrace, and as she inhaled the scent of his skin once more, it felt like happiness had completely surrounded her.
“Ye complete me, lass.” He lifted her chin so their gazes met. “Ye brought me a gift I did nae even know I needed, and I refuse to allow Sandra Fraser to destroy it.”
“Running away would do that.” He shook his head, and she slid her hand along his jawline to stop him. “I am nae going to allow her to frighten me away. Only a guilty person would run.”
Admiration shone in his eyes, flickering hotter and brighter until it was an emerald blaze. He tightened his arms around her and swung her up and off her feet, turning in a wide circle as her feet flew out like a child’s. They laughed like youngsters, long and loudly, finally spinning to a stop near the bed. Norris placed a kiss against her mouth, softly and sweetly, before trailing more kisses down the column of her neck. She slid her hands up his chest to seek the buttons at the top of his doublet and gently loosen them. Need and desire built slowly, remaining hot as they refused to hurry. He petted her and stroked her skin as he helped shed her clothing. She pinched out the candles, seeking the darkness where only the ruby glow of the fire would illuminate the chamber. The window remained open and allowed the sound of the crashing waves into the room.
Daphne was only interested in discovering once again how warm her lover’s skin was. She opened his collar and cuffs, and helped him set his kilt aside once his belt was loosened. She bent over and pulled off his boots, narrowing her eyes in mock scolding when he looked down her chemise.
He wouldn’t allow her to disrobe. He cupped her face and held her steady for a kiss. It was everything she’d yearned for since his departure. The soft pressure before he boldly tasted her with a firm thrust of his tongue. She kissed him back, growing more desperate for a deep taste of him. Need twisted through her. This time it was harder, more necessary to her very survival.
He was right; the world was not kind, but his embrace was her haven. She stroked his chest, trying to absorb his strength as he trailed kisses down her throat.
“I do nae care who calls me weak… it was a torment being parted from ye, lass.”
His voice was a mere whisper. A dark delight that complemented the moment.
He tumbled her into the bed, joining her, and they each tried to immerse themselves in the other. For the first time, the need for satisfaction was ignored in favor of savoring each other. Each touch was precious, and neither rushed toward climax.
It came at last. Daphne unsuccessfully fought back tears. Norris wiped them from her cheeks as he held her close.
“I will nae lose ye, Daphne. I swear it.”
In spite of the fact that he whispered, she heard the determination in his tone. She tried to soak it up, but the harsh circumstances prevented her from being truly comforted.
“I love ye, Norris.”
He growled softly and cupped her chin. When their gazes locked, his eyes were red from the light of the coals. “Do nae ye dare doubt that we shall prevail.”
“Yet ye do,” she accused softly. “Should nae I strive to be yer partner in all things? Is that nae the way of a common-born man and his wife? Do nae insist I stand by while ye shoulder all the burdens of our life. Lovers share all.”
He chuckled softly and stroked her cheek gently. “And what do ye know of being a lover, lass?”
“That ye are learning just as I am, Norris Sutherland, because ye have never loved before, either.”
He nodded slowly. “Aye, lass, ye are correct.”
Aye… correct.
But perfect was a better word.
She just wished perfection were not such an unnatural thing to find in the real world, because such thinking opened the door to the worry that had hounded her all day.
The world was not kind to lovers—not kind at all.
***
Norris didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to hold Daphne, stroke her skin and enjoy the sound of her breathing. But his body had other ideas. Despite that, he slipped into slumber, the days of hard riding taking their toll. The hours of the night passed too quickly. When he opened his eyes, the horizon was pink and gold.
There was a flap and flutter, and Bacchus glided in through the open window to perch on the curtain rod. The peregrine fixed him with its dark eyes and shook before settling.
“What was wrong last night is righted by dawn’s light,” Daphne muttered drowsily. She sat up, keeping an eye on the raptor as Norris stood up and untied the tiny leather sheath attached to its ankle.
Norris unrolled the strip of parchment and read the message. He nodded before moving off to begin dressing. Daphne struggled not to ask him what the message was. She bit her lip and mastered the urge to pry until she caught sight of the amusement lurking in his eyes.
“What did it say, ye marauder?”
He raised an eyebrow at her demand.
“And I recall very well the price of my curiosity. Since I plan to wed ye, unless yer captains want to hang me, tell me what it said.”
Norris’s amusement died instantly. “Me father’s damned captains will learn the error of their thinking today. Broen MacNicols is on his way with his brewmaster. The man has something to add to this matter.” He waved the scrap of paper in the air. “There are times I wish hawks were twice their size so they might carry more detailed messages. But it is glad news all the same.”
Norris was confident. Daphne tried to let it soak into her, but she still felt chilled. Her dreams had been full of the condemning looks of the Sutherland people as they pointed and cursed her. A knock sounded, and Isla entered with Gahan close behind. Norris was once more the heir to Sutherland; even his time while dressing was not his own. Isla shepherded Daphne to the outer room, where two maids waited to help with dressing her.
For once, she was grateful for their help, because her mind was not on the matter at hand. No, she was lost in contemplation of the fact that she might never see the chamber she stood in again. Norris might wish it otherwise, but she refused to allow him to give up everything he was. She loved him too much for that. If his father’s captains could not be appeased, she would leave him. Even if it killed her.
***
“It must be public,” Ronald argued. The older man was not intimidated by Norris’s growling or the fact that Gahan stood at his brother’s back, looking just as furious.
“If she is pronounced innocent in private, no one will trust ye—nae when it comes to anything to do with Daphne MacLeod. They will say ye are soft and maybe worse, that ye are in a hurry to inherit yer title. Sutherland has never been weak in the eyes of our neighbors and vassals. The appearance must be maintained.”
Gahan grunted. “As much as I hate to agree, I do. The gossips are vicious.”
They were, but Norris still resented the situation. There was no way to avoid it; he understood that much. Beyond the doorways of his father’s private chambers, he could hear the people in the great hall. He was torn, because part of him wanted to hate them for being there. However, there was another side of him that marveled at their loyalty to his father. It was something his father had earned and, if he were fortunate enough, he would, as well. There suddenly came a rise in sound from the hall, a rumble of increased conversation. The two retainers at the door frowned, and one of them left to investigate. The man returned almost instantly. He tugged on the corner of his bonnet before speaking. “Mistress MacLeod stands ready.”
Ronald and the other captains looked surprised. “Who brought her?”
“She came herself,” Norris informed them. “She is no coward.”
Ronald considered him for a long moment and then nodded approval. “Well done, then. Let us hear what the MacNicols’s brewmaster has to say on this matter.”
***
“Be quiet… I tell ye!”
Norris had to fight to maintain his composure. Ronald was ruby faced as those watching continued to interrupt the proceedings. The older captain pounded on the high table with a fist until the hall quieted down again.
“Ye’re dismissed,” Ronald informed the brewmaster. The man bowed and fled.
Broen MacNicols stood up and addressed them from where he’d been sitting on the end of the high table. “The matter is clear. Sandra Fraser is the culprit.”
One of the younger captains stood up to challenge Broen. “It is nae clear. I’ve a cousin on MacNicols land, and she told me ye stood before yer people and proclaimed Daphne MacLeod was like a sister to ye and ye would take issue with anyone who did her wrong.”
Broen frowned. “That is true, but it does nae make me a laird who would force his servants to give false testimony when the crime is so high.”
“The brewmaster knows well yer affection for Mistress MacLeod. It is possible he is trying to please ye.”
“I am no’ a liar!” The brewmaster had not fled far. He stood and propped his hands onto his hips. “’Tis just like an arrogant Sutherland to look down on us MacNicols because our laird is nae so high as yers!”
The hall erupted again, this time Sutherland men entered the aisle to face off with the brewmaster. MacNicols retainers hurried to back up their clansman, and the tension tightened.
What drew Norris’s attention was the way Daphne paled. For the first time, fear entered her dark eyes, and it sickened him.
“Hold!” he shouted as Broen ordered his men to stand down.
The nature of a Highlander was volatile.
Daphne watched the two clans separate as their lairds commanded, but they glared at each other. It was the same thing she had seen when she’d been presented as Broen’s betrothed. The celebration feasts had been tension filled and far from enjoyable. Leaving had been the only solution. She was cursed.
“Since ye have heard from the men, ’tis time ye hear from the women.” The captains had to look around to see who spoke. Asgree’s voice was low, and those yelling in the hall quieted in order to hear her.
The head of house moved in front of the captains and laid something on the table. Daphne stepped closer to see what it was and gasped. The small hair ornament was easy to recognize, because it was so unique.
“I had the privy where Sandra Fraser was found cleaned. That was in it. When ye open it, ye’ll see the paste has a clear finger indention. That poison stains the skin dark mustard. Mistress Fraser’s right index finger was stained when we found her. I was nae the only one who saw the stain.” Several maids lined up, nodding their heads.
Norris picked up the flower pin and flicked open the center. Broen moved close enough to see it too, while the crowd shook their heads and grumbled. Ronald sat down, looking older than he had before.
Norris stood up and fixed the line of personal pages with a hard look. “When me father took Mistress MacLeod to his sanctum, who was still at the high table?”
“Mistress Fraser…”
Those who didn’t answer nodded.
“Did ye remain at yer posts while he was gone?”
Most of the boys went pale. Their eyes widened, and one of them found the courage to answer. “We… went for supper… at the back of the hall.”
“Who served ye?” Norris demanded.
The boys looked down at the hall, searching among the faces of those watching, until a middle-aged woman stood up. She lowered herself before moving to the base of the stairs.
“I did, Laird. ’Tis the truth I served them when the earl went to his chambers.”
“Did any of them remain to watch me father’s plate and cup?”
She shook her head, sending a shocked ripple through all those watching. Horror appeared on their faces, and then shame. Most found a reason to look away from Daphne.
“Ronald, have some of yer men remove Mistress Fraser from the main tower. I would have her far away from me father.”
Every single one of his father’s captains jumped up, eager for the chance to escape.
“This matter is ended,” Norris declared. Daphne watched his people stand and lower themselves in front of him. In that moment, he was the master of Dunrobin, and she believed him a good one. He needed a bride who brought him a strong alliance, not one from a defeated clan. Broen was shaking Norris’s hand as men crowded around the high table to get a closer look at the hairpin.
Daphne slipped away, just as she had before her wedding to Broen. It was better this way… Her heart ached, feeling as though it was being torn apart, but she kept walking—through a hallway and on to another before she made it to a doorway that led to the yard. People were pouring out of the great hall, making it simple for her to make her way across the yard without being singled out. At least that was what she thought.
People began to lower themselves. Full retainers reached up to tug on the corner of their bonnets as they cleared the path in front of her. The word “mistress” began to surround her, and she was greeted by one and all. No one was too hurried to ignore her. It was humbling. She froze in her tracks, and tears pricked her eyes.
Someone moved up behind her, clasping her with strong arms she instinctively recognized. Norris nuzzled her head, earning them giggles from the girls and knowing looks from the older women.
“Where are ye going, me sweet?” His arms tightened just a bit, and he sighed against her ear. “All is well now.”
“No, it is nae. Ye need a wife who brings unity, nae fighting among yer vassals.”
“Look and listen, Daphne. Ye have won the Sutherlands’ hearts. No negotiated bride will ever match yer achievement.” His tone was thick with approval, and it warmed her heart. Just like that, the pain that had been threatening to kill her was gone, her doubts dispersed in the wave of happiness that washed through her.
“But… ye do have a problem when it comes to taking wedding vows,” Norris informed her, his voice rising.
“I do nae have a difficulty,” she argued. He released her, and she turned to discover Broen MacNicols standing two feet behind Norris. Gahan and other retainers were there as well, drawing the attention of those who had begun to return to their workday. Even the men along the curtain wall looked down at them.
“Yes, ye do.” Norris cocked his head and looked at Broen. “Did nae she slip away before her wedding to ye?”
Broen crossed his arms over his chest. “Aye, that’s the truth, and I hear she let ye seduce her when the king had clearly told her she was to wed me. Which makes it twice she left without wedding me.”
“Twice, aye, a hesitation problem to be sure.” Norris smirked. Their retainers were enjoying their comments full well. Daphne blushed and then cursed her fickle feminine nature for being so vulnerable to their teasing.
“I was the only one acting with good sense,” she protested.
Norris grinned at her, the expression warning her that she had stepped neatly into his trap. “Allowing me to seduce ye was good sense, I agree.”
“Ye arrogant marauder…” she grumbled. “Is it nae enough that I have—”
“No, it is nae enough just yet, lass.” A moment later he planted his feet wide and bent his knees before running into her at waist level. He straightened up, to the delight of those watching, with her hanging over his shoulder. He turned in a wide circle, ensuring that every man on the wall got the opportunity to witness the moment.
“I’m off to the church to wed me little fairy before she escapes, lads! I need a few witnesses.”
People parted, allowing their laird to stride toward the church. The priests hurried to open both doors so Norris might continue on to the end of the aisle. He placed her back on her feet, and the dust from her skirts settled.
“Marauder…” she accused softly.
“Aye, I am that…” He sank to his knees and offered her his hand. “Yer marauder, if ye like.”
She did like it. Daphne sank to her knees, clasping the hand of her lover as the priest moved in front of them. She loved it.
***
The church bells rang out, informing everyone of their laird’s wedding. Many came running to offer congratulations, but Asgree arrived and pushed her way to Norris. “Yer father is awake.”
A cheer went up from those crowding around them. Norris kissed Daphne quickly; then he turned and ran toward the tower. His kilt bounced, and she might have mistaken him for a little boy being summoned by his father, if she discounted the sword strapped to his wide back.
No, he was a Highlander, a marauder… her husband. And a good son.
***
His father looked weak. Norris forced himself to accept the fact that his father was growing older, while at the same time, he marveled at how the laird had defeated death.
“Ye think I know naught of love.”
Norris was surprised by his father’s words. The old man chuckled, and a fit of coughing overtook him. When he recovered, he grinned at his son, looking more lively than Norris could have hoped for.
“I’m nae ready to let Gabriel take me away just yet. But he does like a battle, so I let him think he was winning there for a bit.”
Norris grinned. “Rather kind of ye.”
“It was at that,” Lytge agreed, “because it seems ye do nae understand me so well, me lad. Ye think me a harsh man when it comes to matters of the heart.”
“Ye did nae seem very welcoming to Daphne,” Norris replied. “Since we’re in private, I do nae plan to start holding me tongue, since I never have before. Ye were blunt and overly harsh with her. I took her to me bed, knowing full well she was virgin. She is more than a lass I’ve dallied with—much more.”
A gleam of approval entered the old man’s eyes. “Oh, aye, I understand that well enough.”
Norris cocked his head to the side, irritated with his father’s jolly mood. “Do ye? And when were ye planning on sharing that bit of information with me?”
His father grinned, as arrogant and cocksure as ever. “I was nae. Ye are me son and would nae have listened to an old man if he told ye how much ye looked like a new foal following behind its mother. So damned dependent on her for yer life.”
“I am nae dependent—” Norris shut his mouth with a click of his teeth. His father chuckled again and pointed a bony finger at him.
“Oh, ye are, and ’tis a fact that I envy ye that feeling. But I had to be sure the lass was worthy of it, ye understand.” He nodded, his expression becoming somber. “Oh, yer mother, she played me well, she did. Smiled and fluttered her eyelashes and made me think I had her heart just as she had mine. The truth of the matter was she loved me title.” Disappointment flickered in his eyes. “But she was nae unkind, and she gave ye to me and raised ye with love. I confess I envied ye her love.” He slapped the surface of the bed, determination gleaming in his eyes. “So I wanted to make sure ye did nae stumble into the same trap.”
“She’s still penniless.”
His father chuckled again. “Are ye thinking to test me, lad?”
“Aye, I do believe I am, Father.”
“Well, ye tested me when ye left to seek the king’s permission to force me to yield to yer wish to wed her.”
Norris shook his head slightly. “Ye knew that, did ye?”
His father nodded. “I knew it because it’s what I would have done. It stung, just a bit, I’ll admit. I understand it’s just an old man’s pride, trying to get involved in something I have nae right to be involved in. I did nae care very much for the fact that me own sire took such a dislike to Gahan’s mother. She was the lass who held me heart, but yer grandfather refused to allow her to live at Dunrobin. He thought yer mother would be more welcoming to me if that were so—and I did try, Son.”
“I recall that well, in spite of how young I was. Forgive me, for ye are correct. I was set on gaining the king’s blessing, because I knew ye’d accept it. For that, I am sorry, because we have never been dishonest with each other. But it matters naught to me if she is penniless. I’ve wed her and am sorry only that ye did nae get the chance to give us yer blessing.”
His father chuckled. It started him to coughing again, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Ye had it, me son, have no doubt of that. She had the strength to stand beside ye when everyone was quick to turn away.”
“Aye, I’ve noticed that meself.”
Lytge winked. “She’s nae penniless, but I wanted to see if ye’d have her in spite of the gold her father settled on her.”
Norris shook his head, suddenly understanding the amusement in his father’s eyes. “Ye’ve known where her dowry was the entire time,” he muttered slowly. “Ye crafty fox.”
“Ye forget sometimes that ye learned every trick ye know from me, lad. Gahan too. Ye’re me sons, and I have made sure to raise ye both, nae leave it to some power-hungry bastard who thinks to earn himself a comfortable place by endearing ye to him. Leave that practice to the English nobles.” He reached out and clasped Norris’s forearm. “Ye are me son, the most precious thing God has ever given me. I wanted ye to have a woman who loved ye with all her heart, for that is another gift I once dreamed of having. Well, I ensured ye’d get both by keeping the knowledge to meself. Besides, ye never asked me if I knew anything of the lass’s dowry.”
“No, I did nae.” Norris chuckled. “Ye got me there, pure and simple. But ye were her father’s overlord.”
Lytge nodded. “And as such, I sent me own men to safeguard that treasure on its way to Broen MacNicols. When the lass put him in his place and I heard the rumors of her father siding with the Royalists, I made sure to put that gold some place it would nae be carried off by raiders.”
“Yer own coffers.”
His father smirked.
It was brilliant, but it sent a chill down his spine. “She might have died over yer keeping that secret. Ronald was thinking to hang her.”
“Well, I did nae know that Fraser bitch was going to poison me. There’s the reward I get for letting Gahan watch yer back, when I should have kept the man for meself,” he groused. “And do nae cross yer arms over yer chest like that, me lad. Ye’ll nae brood over the matter. I was making sure the lass was nae after yer title, and ensuring ye were nae simply amused by the idea of having something ye thought I would nae approve of. Ye youngsters are bedazzled by the forbidden, and ye, me lad, are a proud one. It would nae have been the first time ye bedded a lass ye knew I’d disapprove of, just to remind me that yer respect for me ended at yer bedchamber door. Yet rightfully so.”
Relief poured over him, and Norris suddenly laughed. “I love ye.”
His father nodded. “Aye, and I treasure it. Now get that lass to bed, because I want the comfort of grandchildren in me old age.”
Norris stood and tugged on the corner of his bonnet. “I’ll do me best.”
Lytge watched with pride the man his son had grown into leave his bedchamber. He was certain Norris would prevail, but he was also sure Daphne would give him a bloody hard time claiming that victory.
He cursed Sandra Fraser again for laying him in a sick bed where he wouldn’t be able to watch the battle.
***
“What of Sandra?” Gahan had waited until they had left their father’s chamber before asking.
Norris turned to his brother. “I believe I’ve discovered what they say about love to be true. It’s turned me soft, Brother—at least when it comes to vengeance. I’m more interested in cherishing life.”
Gahan slowly smiled. “Then I suppose the matter falls to me, as the next-eldest son.”
“Only if ye want the duty. For meself, I do nae care. Me father can have her hung once he recovers. It is his right. We’ll have to appeal to the king if we want to prove Bari had any knowledge of it. Nonetheless, I plan to make sure the man knows he is never welcome beneath me roof again.”
“Oh… he’s welcome to come here… no promise on how he leaves,” Gahan growled softly and shot Norris an exasperated look. “Here I am, plotting vengeance, and ye can nae wait to get to yer lady’s side.”
Norris nodded. He reached out and clasped his brother on the shoulder. “I pray ye feel the same someday.”
Gahan watched his brother begin climbing the stairs to the upper floors in the main tower. He waited until two retainers fell into step behind their laird’s son before he turned and walked toward the oldest tower in Dunrobin. The stone walls were rougher there, the archer slits like large crosses, allowing the sunlight to hit the opposite wall in glowing signs of the cross. Fitting…
The wind whistled, almost moaning through the hallways and tugged at the edges of his kilt. The stairs were narrow, and some of the edges crumbling. The door at the top was narrow, too, but the retainer there opened the lock and pushed it inward for him.
“I was never here,” Gahan muttered and made sure Sandra heard him.
She sat up, reaching for the retainer. “Do nae leave me with him!”
The door slammed shut, and Sandra glared at it for a moment before she picked up the thin pillow the cot-like bed afforded her.
“Ye’ll nae find it simple to smother me with this thing.” She threw it at him, and it landed with a soft sound against the bare stone floor.
Gahan studied her for a moment. Her chemise was fine linen with black-work embroidery around the neckline. It was a stark contrast to the bed. Little more than a cot, it was sturdy but lacking in luxury.
“A hundred years ago, this was the only tower at Dunrobin.”
“I do nae care. It is a hovel. The dungeon is likely better afforded.”
Gahan’s eyes narrowed. “Something ye can easily judge for yerself.”
She sat up on her knees, pressing her hands on top of her thighs so her chemise was pulled tight across her breasts.
“Are ye sure, Gahan? Maybe ye should consider becoming me savior instead of me executioner. Why let Norris have everything, when ye can take it?” She licked her lower lip and leaned forward. “I could be very grateful.”
Gahan grinned, and victory flickered in her eyes. She leaned farther forward to give a look down her chemise. He kept his attention on her eyes. He moved closer, until he was only a single step from her. Sandra reached out, seeking the edge of his kilt, when he tossed her flower hair ornament onto the sheet beside her.
“Done,” he muttered as he stepped back. “Ye can show yer gratitude by relieving us of the chore of ending yer life.”
Sandra picked up the hairpin, and her face drained of color.
“I refilled it with something a little less exotic, but deadly nonetheless.”
He turned, and she launched herself at him. Gahan turned back, lifting his foot so that he kicked her in the center of her chest. With a muffled cry, she ended up sprawled on the stone floor.
“Me father will have ye hung unless ye do the deed yerself. I find meself unwilling to suffer touching ye. So those are yer choices.”
“Gahan… Gahan!”
Gahan never looked back. He watched the retainer lock the door and left. It was a better death than she deserved.
***
Bari Fraser heard his peregrine cry and waited for the animal to land. It glided to a stop in the wide window opening of the master’s chamber at Seabhac Tower. The animal knew it was home, chirping happily as Bari relieved it of its leather pouch. Seabhac was Gaelic for raptor, and the land had been known for its birds for over a century.
He tossed the bird a piece of fish from a bowl on his table and unrolled the message. When Bari let out a howl of rage, the bird was startled and took the fish across to another tower to eat. Damn the Sutherlands to hell!
Sandra was dead. His spy at Dunrobin could be trusted, but it still took time for the news to sink in. Once it did, he growled again, cursing Lytge with every fiber of his being.
The earl was to blame. Bari shook and wiped at the tears that spilled from his eyes. He would have his vengeance. He sat down to write a message. Lytge Sutherland had taken his sister, so he would make sure the man lost something of equal value. A bastard son was the same as a legitimate daughter.
Bari wrote quickly and placed the message into the pouch, but he didn’t whistle for the peregrine that had brought it. Instead, he went down to the mews, searching among them for a bird trained to fly to Matheson land. His rage continued to boil as he set the peregrine on its way. With Sutherland retainers, he’d have grabbed up Matheson land and made it Fraser. Now, he would have to call on Achaius Matheson as an ally. Another thing Lytge would pay for, and Bari intended to make sure the cut was deep. The old earl had only three living children, two sons. Bari was going to make sure Gahan Sutherland died by his own hand. Sandra deserved as much.
He laughed, throwing his head back and startling the birds.
“Brother? Are ye well?”
Bari snarled and delivered a sharp slap to the young woman busy tending to the birds. She flinched but didn’t make a sound.
“I have told ye never… never call me brother!” he raged at her. Anyone else would have backed away from him, but Moira stood steady, her blue eyes fixed on him. “Ye are me half sister!” He made a slashing motion with his hand. “Yer mother was common born. Sandra was me sister, nae ye! Get back to work!”
“Why do ye say Sandra ‘was’ yer sister?”
“Because she is dead at the hands of the bastard Sutherlands, and I will have vengeance!”
Moira sighed softly as her brother left the mews. She far preferred the company of the birds to that of her sibling. Oh yes—half sibling. Strange, but she somehow didn’t think Bari would appreciate how much comfort that little bit of knowledge brought her. Which was what made it so very amusing!
Well, she’d never get the chance to tell him. Bari did his best to ignore her, as if she were the lowest servant on his land. It was better that way, better that he hadn’t yet tried to wed her to another person he had no intention of keeping his promise to. Bari Fraser was not a man of his word, and his neighbors knew it. Half sibling was certainly enough for her.
Enough of a curse!
***
“So, me fine husband, is the window going to remain open through the snowstorms?” Daphne trailed her fingers through the hair on Norris’s chest. Alone at last, sated for the moment, she indulged herself in savoring the feeling of having him hold her. Bacchus was perched in the corner, eyeing her as though the raptor understood her question.
“If ye continue to call me husband, ye will likely get me to agree to anything ye ask of me.”
Daphne lifted her head, still slightly amazed to see Norris in bed with her. How had everything settled out so well? Does it matter?
Her husband grinned and pressed her head down onto his chest again.
Nae, it does not…
“I love ye, Daphne MacLeod.”
That was what mattered! Indeed it was.