Alexander found himself admiring the children’s skill at conversation. It was evident that an adult had spent time with them, talked to them a lot and as equals, and thus developed their skill with words. Although a great deal of what they said was clearly a lesson well learned and recited back, he sensed a keen intelligence in them. Manus replying to his question drew him from his thoughts.
“Grandpère and Uncle MacFarlane and Donald MacCordy,” answered Manus. “Aye, the MacCordys were very angry about our father, and they still are.”
“Why should the MacCordy clan care that Mairi MacFarlane had herself a lover?” The tension Alexander felt in Ailis only increased his curiosity.
Sibeal looked at Alexander. “Donald MacCordy was to be betrothed to my mama. Isna that right, Aunt Ailis?” She did not wait for Ailis to reply. “It had all been settled, but then Mama had the twins. Aunt Ailis said ‘tis best that the betrothal never happened because my mama could never have borne being wed to a man with leech lips.”
“Leech lips?” Alexander looked at Ailis, noticed how she avoided his gaze and blushed brightly, and he nearly laughed.
Rath nodded, smiling faintly. “Aye—leech lips.” He dodged his aunt’s attempts to pinch him into silence. “Aunt Ailis says that Donald MacCordy’s kisses are akin to having a big fat leech stuck over your mouth.” He giggled when Alexander and his men laughed.
Some of Alexander’s amusement had nothing to do with Ailis’s colorful description of Sir Donald MacCordy’s kissing skill. To think that Sir Donald MacCordy, a man Alexander hated almost as much as he hated Colin, had lost one of his brides to Barra and was soon to lose the chastity of another to Alexander was truly something to savor. Even if he did not desire Ailis with a strength hitherto unknown to him, Alexander knew he would have bedded the girl anyway. The carnal use of the woman Sir Donald MacCordy considered his might be a petty revenge, but it was still an enjoyable one. Alexander knew that it would send Sir Donald into a towering rage, and if the way Mairi and her children had been treated was any indication, the loss of another of his niece’s chastity would certainly raise Sir Colin’s choler.
Ailis saw Alexander’s amusement and inwardly cursed. She instinctively understood what the man found so funny. Her annoyance was increased by the realization that she found his laugh attractive. It stirred an unknown yet frighteningly pleasant feeling in her blood. Even reminding herself that her impending shame was one of the things that fed his amusement did not stop her from liking to hear that deep, rich laugh. She ruefully admitted to herself that she disliked Donald intensely enough that the thought of how both women intended to be his bride were bedded by his bitterest foes did have the flavor of a fine jest. That did little to soothe her abused feelings, however.
“Methinks ye will make Sir Donald MacCordy a very poor wife,” Alexander said, his enticing voice intruding into her dark thoughts.
“That should please ye,” she snapped, keeping her voice low so that their conversation remained private. “If ye do as ye plan, however, that marriage might never come about.”
“Aye, ‘twill please me if ye torment MacCordy. I also ken that MacCordy badly needs to make a firm alliance. There are too many around who wish to see him dead or run off. ‘Tis the same with the MacFarlanes. As separate clans, their enemies could prevail against them, but united they could stave off the wolves of vengeance. Aye, Donald MacCordy will still take ye as his wife no matter how ill I use ye, but he might not be too pleased to do so.”
“Och, well.” She sighed, twisting her full mouth into a wry smile. “I ken that Donald already regrets it. ‘Twill make little difference.” She decided it was a good thing that the children were so young, for they did not fully understand the danger she faced.
“Ye have been greeting his wooing with a rough hand, mistress,” Alexander said, his tone and attitude jovial. “I ken that MacCordy will be here with his sword a-swinging as soon as he kens who has ye. Aye, he will be fair eager to run me through.”
The anticipation Alexander felt about such an event was revealed in his rich voice, and Ailis wondered why she was not more afraid of the man. “ ‘Twill be a while ere Donald raises a sword for any reason or cause.”
“Oh? Is your eager groom ill or, mayhaps, wounded?” Alexander watched her lick the wine from her full lips, felt his loins immediately tighten, and inwardly groaned.
“Aye, Sir Donald is sorely wounded,” replied Manus. “His sword arm was bandaged and in a sling. I heard it said that his injury needed many a stitch.”
“Donald MacCordy was ever quick to take to a sword or the fist,” Barra said. “Who did this deed, one that could buy us even more time ere our enemies strike back? O-ho,” he whispered when he saw the color flooding Ailis’s face. “A fight over ye, was it, mistress?”
“Ye could say that,” drawled Jaime, his dark eyes alight with laughter, his fear and anger forgotten for the moment. “My mistress took a knife to the rogue when he crept into her chambers.”
“Oh, but yearea vicious piece, Mistress MacFarlane!” Alexander gasped the words out as he was again seized with laughter, a laughter that began to fade when he realized that he had indulged in it more since the MacFarlanes’ arrival at Rathmor than he had in many a year. “Sir Donald MacCordy may never survive marriage to ye.” He grabbed Ailis’s wrist and tugged her close to him, noting that even the smell of her, that scent of clean touched with lavender, stirred his body’s interest. “Ye had best not be thinking to deal with me in such a fashion,” he murmured. He fixed his gaze on her mouth for a moment before looking into her wide, dark, and anger-filled eyes.
A quick glance told Ailis that Barra and the rest were keeping the children diverted, so she hissed at Alexander. “It wouldna be your sword arm I would be slashing, Alexander MacDubh. I can do naught at this moment, but heed this, my fine rutting reiver—for every drop of blood ye draw from me, I will have the same from ye tenfold. Once I am free, be it through rescue or ransom, it willna be the men ye had best keep a wary eye on.”
“Such hard words from such a soft mouth.” He lightly touched her lips with his finger and held her steady when she tried to pull away. “Tell me, does your uncle or your groom MacCordy ken who fathered the bairns?” He watched her closely in hopes of detecting any evasion in her reply.
“How could they? I didna ken it myself, yet there was no one, save for your brother, who was closer to Mairi’s heart than I was.”
“Your kinsmen and betrothed have eyes, mistress, and they ken very well what Barra looks like.”
Ailis frowned as uncertainty crowded into her heart. She had been so relieved that the children would be allowed to stay with her that she had not really given much thought to how unusual it was for a man like Donald MacCordy to agree to her request. Under the law the children were her uncle’s responsibility more than they were hers. In Donald’s eyes they were living proof that his first intended bride had desired another man over him. Ailis had always thought that Donald hated the children. Although she now saw that he could easily be plotting something concerning the children, she was not at all sure of what such plots could entail.
“I dinna ken,” she said, her voice quiet and unsteady. “Donald never said a word, but the MacCordys may indeed ken just who fathered the children.” Her deep concern for her niece and nephews made her repeat her thoughts to Alexander. “Do ye see? I now have some doubts, some questions. The MacCordys might well ken the truth.”
“Aye,” Alexander mumbled, idly caressing her wrist with his fingers as he thought the matter over. “What about your uncle?”
“Nay,” she replied with no doubt at all. “Uncle wouldna be so quick to give them over to the MacCordys if he did.”
“True.” He hid his surprise and appreciation over her perception. “Those children are too good a weapon to lose. Old Colin would have found as much use for them as the MacCordys think they have. I wouldna have left the bairns within his grasp, but Barra only told me his secret yestereve.” Alexander made a quick decision and, turning toward the children, called, “Children, would ye like to ken who your father is?” He ignored Ailis’s soft, hissed protests and Barra’s abrupt loss of color.
“Aye, sir,” replied Manus. “But not if it will put him in danger.” His siblings nodded their agreement.
“It willna, for ye all now share a roof.” With a slight flourish of his hand, Alexander pointed toward Barra. “Allow me to introduce ye to your father—Barra MacDubh.”
