“’Tis what she said.” Giorsal turned her head to look at her husband. “She also said that Parlan says she willnae wed Rory Fergueson.”
“Oh? Does he say how he hopes to stop the wedding or why?”
“Nay, he willnae give her reasons for wanting it stopped nor say how he will stop it. He just says she willnae wed Rory, that he willnae let it happen.”
“Weel, for all the trouble he has caused us, I respect the man. I think that if anyone can stop it, he can and I think too that if he willnae say why, he has a verra good reason for that as weel.”
Parlan felt the reason he kept silent about his dislike for Rory Fergueson was justified later that night when Aimil woke from a nightmare, trembling with fear. Reluctantly she told him what had caused her terror, and Fergueson had played a major role in her dreams. To tell her all he knew of the man her father had promised her to would only add to the fear she already had of Fergueson. If she knew the truth about Fergueson, she would probably never sleep peacefully again.
“I wonder if it started with that chill I felt?” she mused as she clung to Parlan’s solid warmth.
“What chill, little one?” He fought down a rising passion for he knew it was a time to soothe not to seduce.
“At the meal’s end, I felt a chill seep through me, go straight to the bone. Such strange thoughts entered my head.”
Holding her tighter he asked, “What thoughts, Aimil? Come, talking of them could ease your fears.”
“I kept thinking that some foreboding shadow had briefly blocked my sun. So too did I think that something evil had reached out to touch me with its cruel, icy fingers.” She shivered and pressed her face against his chest. “I cannae shake the feeling that something bad awaits me, that out there is something or someone who seeks to hurt me. I saw my mother in my dreams.”
“Aye?” He tried to shake the feeling that she was suffering some premonition and had not merely had a bad dream.
Aimil nodded. “She was all bloody, Parlan, and she was pointing at Rory. I cannae think why I should dream such a thing.”
“There isnae any explaining a night’s terror, lass. Ye are safe here. Think only on that. I willnae let harm come to ye and I mean to keep ye out of Rory Fergueson’s hands. Remember that. He willnae get ye. I mean to stop that marriage.”
She peeked up at his face. “Why are ye so set against this marriage? I am naught to ye.” She found that it hurt to admit to it.
“Weel”—he kissed her forehead—“I wouldnae say naught.
Dinnae ask me to explain, lass. Just trust me. Trust me.”
Snuggling up to him, she sighed sleepily and closed her eyes. “I do that, Parlan. Aye, I trust ye.”
He smiled down at her and wondered why her words should make him burst with pride and happiness.
Chapter Eight
“Ye cannae mean it?”
“Aye, I do. I am staying here.”
Lachlan scowled at his eldest son’s determined face. This was something he had not foreseen. Leith had always been close to Aimil. It was evident that that feeling still existed, was now driving him to remain in the enemy’s camp. Lachlan could see no reason for it, however.
“The lass will come to no harm. I have the Black Parlan’s word on it.”
“So have I but stay I will. She may have need of someone who isnae a MacGuin at some time, and I mean to be here if she does.”
“’Tis good of ye to think on her needs, but the Black Parlan may have an objection or twa.”
“He wouldnae send a sick lad out into nature’s cruelty.” Leith lay back in his bed, looking suitably frail.
“Ye do that verra weel,” Lachlan drawled, pulling a grin from Leith, “but I wouldnae hope on it fooling the Black Parlan.”
The Mengue heir’s performance did not fool Parlan for a moment, but he let Leith think that it had. He understood Leith’s motives and had no objections to the youth’s staying. That Leith might still wish to kill him did not trouble him at all. Leith would not stoop to murder but demand a fair fight, face to face with witnesses. Parlan even suspected that Leith was not so hot upon avenging his sister’s honor as he had been, although he made no attempt to guess the youth’s reasons for his change of heart.
Leith was relieved that he could stay. He suspected that to hurt Parlan MacGuin would be to hurt Aimil. If nothing else, she was far too happy for a woman who was supposedly being used and plunged into shame, even for one who had chosen such a course. So too did he sense something in her looks and actions when Parlan was around. He dared not guess at Parlan’s feelings except that the man did not treat Aimil as if she were naught but a convenience for the relief of his lusts. The whole matter needed a great deal more observation which was one of the main reasons he wished to stay at Dubhglenn.
“Weel, ye got your way. Ye are staying. I dinnae believe ye really fooled him though,” Lachlan said after Parlan had left them alone again.
