The color drained from Niall’s face. Then a studied mask replaced the fleeting look of surprise. “What are ye talking about? I never said aught of a traitor.”
Anne wasn’t about to let Niall’s momentary lapse of control slip by. “It wasn’t ye. It was my father who spoke of someone betraying ye to us.”
“By mountain and sea! He swore he’d tell no one!”
“And he kept his word!” Anne hotly defended her father. “It was that day of yer clan’s arrival at Castle Gregor. I followed my father to the parapets to hear them request yer return. He was so overwrought at the position he was in, he let slip the fact he’d entrapped ye and that there was a traitor. No one heard his words but me. He refused to tell me more, even when I prodded him. And that’s the truth of it, Niall Campbell!”
“The truth as far as ye know it,” Niall retorted. “But how many others know?”
“My father’s a man of honor. If he gave ye his word, yer secret’s safe. Besides, to betray ye would be to endanger me. He’d never do that.”
Niall scowled. “Mayhap not intentionally, but what if he let it slip again?” His fist pounded the mantel in frustration. “Och, it was my only advantage over the traitor, and now I may have lost even that!”
“Ye don’t know that. If I’m the only other one . . .” Anne’s voice faded at the piercing look Niall shot her. “Aye.” She sighed. “And once again I’m asking ye to trust me, aren’t I? But if Iain’s the traitor and I’m in league with him, then ye’ve lost even that advantage.”
A sharp pain lanced through her. “It always comes back to that, doesn’t it, Niall? Ye can’t find it in yer heart to trust me—and never will.”
He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut. He stared at her, his dark eyes capturing and holding hers until Anne thought she’d scream from the tension. Tears filled her eyes. She saw the dream of a life for them slowly disintegrate in the face of Niall’s continued distrust. There was no hope, not anymore.
The tears rolled, unchecked, down her cheeks. “I said I loved ye, but it isn’t enough, is it?” she asked in a choked whisper. “Well, I can’t bear living with yer suspicions. Better for the both of us if ye let me go back to my people.”
“Nay.”
She swiped the tears away with the back of her hand. “But why? What good am I to ye, or to yer traitor, be it Iain or any other? Ye’ve discovered my complicity and now will guard against me. Ye can throw me into the dungeons, I suppose, but that, on top of the news that’s sure to reach my father soon of the land grant, will only stir the feud anew. Far better to send me home, and be done with this mockery of a handfasting.”
“Well, I don’t see it as a mockery.” Niall flung himself in the chair opposite her, his long legs stretched out before him. “If I did, I’d have ended it long ago. But I was lost from the first moment I saw ye in that little village, yer hands bound, proudly defying my men. Ye are a witch, Anne MacGregor,” he groaned the admission, “but yer spells are of the heart, not the body. And I can’t let ye go—not now, not ever!”
“Och, Niall!” Anne sobbed, kneeling before him.
He straightened in the chair, and his arms welcomed her, pulling her to him. She clung to him fiercely, her renewed surge of tears dampening his linen shirt.
“I’ve never wished to cause ye pain, truly, I haven’t,” Anne cried. “I know I’ve been foolish at times, concerned only with my needs and giving little thought to yers, but I swear I’ll do better! I’ll learn.”
“Wheesht, lass.” Niall stroked her hair. “I know, I know.”
She raised her tear-streaked face to his, so close now his warm breath caressed her. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
Anne sighed and laid her head back on Niall’s chest. She knew there had been no admission of trust in his words, no avowal of love, but tonight it didn’t matter. That he accepted the fact she was there and wanted him, that he seemed to want her too, was enough.
All her life, since the day Anne had realized the power men held over women, she had fought against surrendering even the smallest aspect of herself. She had fought against their control, flaunting customs and strictures of everyday life if they went against her own desires. She had paid the price in many ways, yet until this moment she had staunchly maintained her right to guide her own destiny.
But no longer. Now it was joined with that of the dark man holding her. Yet there was no loss, no sense of defeat in the realization. Quite the contrary.
Her love for this most magnificent of men had opened up the world to her, freeing her—empowering her. Her love only made her stronger. It revealed new mysteries, mysteries both wonderful and life-sustaining. There was no fear anymore, only an eagerness to delve further and, in the giving, receive.
Early the next afternoon, Anne awoke to bright sunlight streaming into her bedchamber. She shifted and stretched lazily, her thoughts turning immediately to Niall. Today was the meeting to determine Clan Campbell’s next chief.
She leaped from bed, startling Agnes, who sat dozing by the fire.
“Hurry!” Anne cried. “I must dress and find Niall!”
“So, after sleeping half the day away,” the old maidservant grumbled, making her way over to Anne, “ye suddenly need everything done posthaste, do ye? Well, a wee bit of patience is in order. I’m not as spry as I once was, ye know.”
Anne couldn’t help but laugh at Agnes’s scowling countenance. “Och, it’s not as bad as all that, is it? If so, I beg yer pardon. I’m just so happy! I’m in love, Agnes,” she cried, grabbing the other woman by both arms and twirling her around. “I’m in love with Niall!”
“Harrumph. Well, it’s taken ye long enough to see it.” She dug in her heels in an apparent effort to slow Anne’s whirling about.
“Now, stop this, I say. Ye’re making me dizzy.”
“Och, I’m sorry!” Anne instantly halted, released the maidservant, and stepped back. “It’s just that I’ve never been in love before, and then to have fallen in love with a man like Niall . . .” She grinned sheepishly. “Ye must think me silly.”
“Nay, m’lady.” The old woman grinned back, exposing a few missing teeth. “On the contrary. I’m verra happy for ye and the young lord. I’ve helped raised him from a pup, I have, and when he lost his first Lady Anne, well, it nigh to broke my heart. But the good Lord saw fit to provide him with another fine mate, one as devout a Christian as the first Annie was, and equally strong enough to bear the difficult times ahead. I prayed to Jesus, I did, and, at long last, the Lord answered me.”
“Well, I don’t know if I’m truly the answer to yer prayers,” Anne said with a chuckle, “or if my strength’s sufficient to survive what might lie ahead, but I, too, love the Lord and strive always to do His will.” She paused, then sighed. “I confess, though, that Duncan and Malcolm have been the verra hardest sorts to love or respond to in Christian charity. Sad to say, I’ve failed many a time to turn the other cheek when confronted by those two men.”
“I don’t think the Lord wants us never to fight back when we see injustice, m’lady. And besides, I’ve watched how hard ye’ve tried to make friends amongst so many who treated ye with such coldness and disdain. Even so, bit by bit ye’re winning the hearts of the Kilchurn folk. Even”—she chuckled—“the heart of the wee Caitlin.”
Anne rolled her eyes. “Och, if only that were true. I’ve seen little change in Caitlin save, when it comes to me, the grudging obedience she pays her brother. Still, I’m determined not to give up. The Lord Jesus expects more than that of me.”
“Aye,” Agnes said, nodding in ready agreement, “and His will matters more than the cruel, selfish machinations of some, and the petty jealousies and fears of the others.”
Anne smiled. “Never let me forget that, Agnes. There are times, when things seem their darkest, that I’m wont to do that, ye know.”
“Och, m’lady.” The old woman patted her arm. “I won’t. We’re all called, after all, to help each other on the journey.”
“That we are,” Anne replied, heartened by the maidservant’s good-heartedness. “That we are.” She paused once more. “Now, it’s past time I was dressing. I’d like a time with Niall, if I can, before he attends the chief’s council.”
“Right ye are.” Agnes darted off toward the wardrobe, muttering to herself as she went. “Now, let’s see. Should it be the sky blue gown, or mayhap the green one? But then the dark blue one flatters yer figure so . . .”
As she watched Agnes’s head disappear into the depths of the huge clothes cupboard, the old woman’s earlier words came back to Anne. “The good Lord saw fit to provide him with another fine mate . . .”
Ah, if only it were so, she thought, that God had, from the beginning, meant for her and Niall always to be together. Only time would tell, she supposed. Until the good Lord told her otherwise, though, Anne intended to work as hard as she could to that particular—and most gratifying—end.
Anne found Niall in the library, staring out the window. At her entrance, he glanced over his shoulder, a thoughtful frown marring his brow. Her pleasure at seeing him, being with him, again slowly eked away. Dear Lord, Anne thought, what is it now?
“What’s wrong, Niall? What makes ye scowl so?” she asked as she drew up beside him.
“Naught.” He forced the words past taut lips. “It’s naught.”
“Nonetheless, I’d like to know. These days, most likely it has something to do with me.”
He turned tormented eyes to her. “Aye, it has to do with ye, but only in my mind.”
Her heart did a flip-flop. “Then even more the reason to speak of it.”
Niall hesitated then sighed. “Last night, ye said ye loved me, that yer place was with me for as long as I’d have ye. Did ye truly mean it?”
Even in his strength Niall was vulnerable, vulnerable because he had let himself care for her. There was no other explanation for a question such as his. The knowledge sang through Anne with a fierce, exultant joy. She nodded, a soft smile curving her lips. “Aye, I meant it.”
Niall’s eyes smoldered. “Then I’ve one favor to ask, one last proof, let us say, of yer love.”
Anne exhaled a long, unsteady breath. “And, pray, what is it?”
“I want yer promise ye won’t speak to or be alone with Iain again.”
Niall’s request left her speechless. How could he ask such a cruel thing? It spoke more eloquently than words of his continued distrust. But was it just of Iain and his possible motives, or of her too? Bitter resentment warred with the knowledge that, where a traitor was concerned, trust was the rarest of luxuries.
Anne laughed, the sound ragged. “And what will that oath win me? Yer undying devotion?”
“Don’t mock me!” Niall took her by the arm, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.
“Mock ye?” With a grimace of pain, Anne tried to pull away and, when that failed, turned back, her eyes blazing. “How can ye believe I still mean to betray ye? Do ye think I could tell ye I loved ye while in my heart I was plotting yer death? What kind of woman do ye think I am?”
He shrugged. “Women have always used sweet words and allurements to get what they wanted.”
“Do ye seriously think I but said those things just to win yer confidence?” Anne cried in outrage. “To lull ye into thinking I’m not one of yer traitors? And all the while it was Iain’s arms I wished to be in?”
Anne’s words must have finally driven home. Niall flushed. “Nay, Annie, I didn’t mean that. I only asked that ye not see nor talk with Iain.” He sighed. “I didn’t realize I was asking such a sacrifice. I withdraw my request.”
“Nay.” Anne moved until he, once more, was forced to look her in the eye. “Nay, Niall. Ye spoke the words, now explain them. Why don’t ye want me talking with Iain?”
He shot her a hot, angry look. “Because I fear he’ll try to use ye to get to me and, in the end, destroy us both!”
“Ye don’t know yer cousin very well, do ye?”
“If ye mean to defend him—”
“Why are ye so certain it’s Iain? What of Cousin Hugh and Uncle Duncan?”
“What of them?”
Incredulity widened her eyes. “Are ye saying ye’ve never considered either of them? Hugh’s mad with ambition, not to mention just plain mad. And Duncan.” Anne shivered. “Duncan’s cold and heartless. There’s something about him . . .”
“Why not add my bastard cousin Malcolm?” Niall offered. “Even if he is a man of the cloth, mayhap he, too, dreams of wearing the chief’s feathers. Nay, Anne. Though all of them, as well, are suspects, just because they don’t like ye is no reason to accuse them of treachery.”
“Yet ye accuse one who does like me of it! I’m not so blind or emotional that I cannot set aside my personal differences and clearly see the truth of the matter,” she countered, stung by his arrogant assumption to the contrary. “Ye accuse me of the same bias ye have against Iain.”
“That isn’t true.”
Anne’s hands fisted at her hips. “Isn’t it? Ye’ve resented Iain’s attentions to me from the start. Yet what, aside from that, has Iain done to deserve yer suspicion?”
“He has much to gain from my death. He could become clan chief.”
“And what of Hugh and Duncan? Wouldn’t they profit as well?
They, too, stand in line for the chieftainship. And have ye ever considered others in yer clan—yer lairds, any outlaws ye may have banished? Only a fool closes himself to all possibilities.”
“Are ye calling me a fool?” Fury flashed in Niall’s dark eyes. “Next ye’ll be calling me a liar, and ye know how I feel about that!”
He released her and moved a few steps away, his back to her. “And, aye, I have and am still considering others.”
For an instant, Anne was suddenly so mad at him she couldn’t think of another word to say. Instead, she closed the distance between them, grabbed him by the arm, and jerked him around. He glared down at her. She scowled back. Suddenly, in a long overdue rush of perspective, the total ridiculousness of their argument struck her. A giggle bubbled to her lips.
“What’s so amusing?” Niall demanded with narrowed eyes.
“Why, that we’re both fools!” In spite of her best intentions not to make Niall any angrier, a soft laugh escaped her. “Here we are, fighting each other, expending all our efforts in a battle royal, while the traitor stands back and watches. He has no need to do more than that. We’ll gladly destroy each other for him.”
Amusement tugged at the corners of Niall’s mouth. The tenseness eased from his body. “We really should join forces.”
Anne’s expression sobered. “Are ye saying ye trust me?”
He smiled at her in gentle understanding. “Ye won’t cease until ye’ve forced that admission from me, will ye, lass?”
“Nay, m’lord.”
“Ye’re a stubborn, defiant little wench.”
“Aye, m’lord.”
Niall sighed in exasperation. “My name’s not m’lord.”
She grinned. “Aye, Niall.”
His arms opened. “Come here, lass.”
With a giggle, Anne went to him. Niall lowered his head in an attempt to kiss her. Immediately, she leaned back.
He frowned. “And what’s the matter now?”
A delicate brow arched in thoughtful consideration. “Well, let me think on it. Och, aye, now I remember. Ye still haven’t answered my question.”
“And what question was that?”
A hesitant little smile trembled on her lips. “Do ye trust me, Niall?”
“Aye, lass,” he whispered. “I trust ye.” Once again, he moved close to kiss her, and this time Anne rose on tiptoe to meet him.
The library door slammed open.
“Niall!” Oblivious to the fact her brother wasn’t alone, Caitlin swept into the room. “A murrain! The cattle have a murrain!”
The girl halted, finally noticing Anne. Caitlin paled then colored bright red. Anger quickly replaced the shock. Her turquoise eyes flashed as she first looked at Anne, then Niall.
“So, brother dear.” Caitlin ground out the words through clenched teeth. “Our father’s barely cold in the grave, our cattle are dying of a pestilence, and ye hide here in the library, cavorting with the one woman responsible for it all!”
Niall strode past his sister to close the door, then turned to confront her. “Ye’ll knock and await permission to enter from now on,” he growled in a dangerously soft voice. “And ye may pack yer belongings posthaste. Ye’re paying yer aunt a long overdue visit in Edinburgh.”
The defiance in Caitlin’s eyes crumbled. “Nay! How could ye? Haven’t I endured enough of late, now to have ye all but banish me?” The girl sank to her knees, weeping as if her heart would break.
Anne ran to Niall’s side. If it were within her power, she’d not permit him to send another member of his family away because of her. In time, Anne knew, he’d come to resent her for it. She couldn’t live with that between them. She clasped his arm, diverting his scowling attention from his sister.
“Niall,” she said, “don’t do this. She’s but a child and overwrought with all that’s happened. And she speaks naught that others don’t say. Caitlin has but the courage to say them to yer face, while others whisper behind their hands. Ye can’t banish all yer people. We must face the problem head on. Any other way would be cowardly.”
“Respect for ye must start somewhere, lass. And if I can’t command it within my own family . . .”
She gave him a trembling smile. “I know, my love.” Anne turned, walked to Caitlin, and gently touched her shoulder.
The girl jerked away and glared up at her.
Anne sighed. “I know ye hate me, but for love of yer brother can’t ye support him in his decision to handfast with me? These past few days have been hard for ye, but they’ve been difficult for Niall as well. Ye’re growing quickly to a woman. It’s time ye begin to act like one.”
Tear-filled turquoise eyes narrowed in anger. “Are ye calling me a child?”
“What do ye call yer actions a few moments ago?” was the gentle rejoinder.
Caitlin wiped away her tears and rose. She squared her slender shoulders. “I don’t like nor trust ye.”
“I know. But can’t ye trust yer brother and his judgment?”
The black-haired girl shot Niall a pouting look. “I know enough of the power of women to think he doesn’t know his own mind in this.”
“Was Niall so besotted with the Lady Anne Stewart he didn’t know his own mind? Did his love for her weaken his judgment?”
“Nay.”
“Then why should he be any less able because he’s with me? If ye recall, I’m not half the woman she was,” Anne said, repeating Caitlin’s own words. “And ye don’t believe in witchcraft, so what other influence could I possibly have over him?”
Caitlin stepped back, her glance swinging from Anne to her brother. “Och, I don’t know. It just seems that everything’s turned sour since ye arrived. And the talk doesn’t help.”
“Have ye encouraged it?” Niall chose that moment to interject.
His sister’s head lowered. “Well, mayhap a little.”
“I need yer loyalty in this, Caitlin.” Niall walked over and grasped her by the arms. “I’m sore beset right now. If ye, too, turn against me . . .”
“Och, Niall, I won’t turn against ye. I swear. Ye’re my brother. We’re family.”
“Then ye’ll accept Anne?”
Caitlin’s glance slid to hers. “Aye, accept her, but that’s all. Don’t ask me to be her friend.”
“By mountain and sea!” Niall swore. “Why do ye persist—”
“It’s enough, Niall.” Anne laid a hand on his arm. “Let it be.”
His stormy countenance calmed. “Ever the peacemaker, aren’t ye, lass? Ye’ve had much to swallow since yer arrival here. My clan hasn’t met ye even halfway. But soon that’ll change. I swear it!”
She smiled up at him. “Aye, m’lord. That it will.”
“N-Niall?” Caitlin’s plaintive voice interrupted their warm glance.
Niall’s gaze returned to his sister. “Aye?”
“Must I still go to Edinburgh?”
A dark brow arched. “I don’t know. What do ye think, Anne?”
Caitlin stiffened, her fierce pride apparently stung at having her fate at Anne’s mercy.
Anne gave the girl a gentle smile. “I think Caitlin would be happier here, among family and friends.”
“Thank ye, m’lady.” Caitlin forced the words out through stiff lips, then bobbed a little curtsey.
As the remembrance of the original intent of his sister’s visit struck him anew, Niall frowned. “Ye said the cattle have a murrain. How do ye know this?”
“I was in the Great Hall when the head herdsman came rushing in. He was verra excited as he spoke to Duncan, and his voice carried throughout the hall. By now, I fear the news is all over the castle.”
“And the cause of it?”
Caitlin averted her gaze. “They say it’s witchcraft. Malcolm was there when the news was brought. He immediately raised a hue and cry, all but claiming it was Anne’s doing. There’s trouble afoot, brother.”
Niall’s face hardened with displeasure. “Aye, that there is.”
He waved his sister toward the door. “Ye may go. I’ve plans to make.”
They watched as Caitlin left the room, then Niall turned to Anne.
“This couldn’t have come at a more inopportune time. The people will be stirred, fearful and angry.” He gave a cynical, self-mocking laugh. “And in but another hour I, in the midst of all the rising witch panic, must defend my right to the chieftainship.”