The first fact she had to face was that she was carrying Alexander MacDubh’s child. That made her choices very limited. Alexander was still not softening to her for all his passion remained hot and sweet. There was always the chance that he might never do so, that he was too badly scarred by past hurts to feel again. His pain could be too complete, and no amount of caring, love and sympathy from her would ever heal him. Nevertheless, he had said that he would marry her, and her only real alternatives to that were to run off and be the poor mother of a bastard child—a life she knew could be a hell beyond bearing—or to return to Leargan to marry Donald, which would be no better and quite possibly a great deal worse. That left her with Alexander, a man who could turn her insides hot with a glance, or freeze her heart with one cutting word.
“There is no choice,” she muttered as she started back to the keep and her bedchamber. “It must be Alexander. I really dinna want another man despite the sad fact that I dinna have this one anyhow. And he willna beat me or our child. ‘Tis very sad when a lass’s life holds such choices. Donald would be the worst choice of all, so I shall take Alexander and pray for the best.”
It was her plan to formally inform Alexander that she would accept his proposal. She knew it had been a command, but she decided to ignore that if only to recall him to his own arrogance. There was no sign of him, however, either inside of the keep or in the bailey and its clutter of sheds and huts. When she finally espied Angus coming out of the stables, she set her shoulders and hurried over to him, determined not to let him be evasive with her.
“Where is Alexander?” she demanded as she caught hold of the sleeve of Angus’s jupon and forced the stocky man to stop and face her.
“Ah, isna he with ye?” Angus grimaced and flushed beneath her look of disgust.
“Do ye see him? Mayhaps I have tucked him into a pocket inside my cloak and I but forgot.”
“Enough. He has left Rathmor.”
“Left Rathmor?” Suddenly her own anger seemed a small thing as she recalled all the dangers awaiting Alexander outside the walls of his keep. “Is it safe for him to leave Rathmor? What of my kinsmen or even some other enemy?”
Angus rubbed a grubby hand over his stubbled chin, leaving a smear of dirt. “He wasna of a mind to heed any warnings. He has gone to the kirkyard. Ye ken the one. ‘Tis just inside the trees to the west of Rathmor.”
“Aye, I ken the one. He has gone to visit with Elizbet.” She sighed and wondered how she could fight the hold of that tiny ghost.
“So, he told ye about his daughter?”
“Nay, he never has. Barra mentioned her, that she died with his second wife. I have gathered a bit more of the tale, but only a wee bit. Somehow the second lady of Rathmor caused Elizbet’s death.”
“Oh, aye, that demon’s wife did that. She murdered her.”
“Murdered the child?” Ailis realized that was what had been constantly hinted at, but she found it hard to believe.
“Mind ye, she didna put her dagger in the child’s heart or the like, but what she did do was murder nonetheless. Aye, the second lady MacDubh had Satan’s spirit in her, and it broke free that day. There was no stopping the woman. She set that child on the back of a half-wild stallion and herself on a beast that wasna much tamer. Then off she raced, over the fields and moors and along the cliffs where we found those puppies some weeks back.”
“Oh, sweet Mary, dinna tell me that they came to harm at Pagan’s Point.”
“Nay, but ‘twas not too far from there. We took chase, but there was no catching her. Whenever poor Elizbet’s steed eased its pace, Lady MacDubh whipped it back into a frenzied speed. Ye could hear the poor child weeping with fright whilst Lady MacDubh laughed. Alexander could see how the mad chase could end, but we all tried to cheat fate. ‘Twas no use. Even as Alexander drew near, Lady MacDubh laughed and lashed out at the stallion Elizbet clung to, driving the beast over the edge of a gorge, and that devil’s woman leapt out after them. She laughed all the way to her death. Even if the fall hadna killed them, the high waters they fell into would have. We never did find that stallion.”
“ ‘Tis almost more than I can believe. Ye wouldna tell me such a tale to win over my sympathy and ease my anger against Alexander, would ye?”
“Nay, m’lady.” Angus looked at her with an expression of outrage clear to read upon his plain face. “ ‘Tis a tale born of madness.”
“Aye, of course it is. I meant no insult. I just dinna wish to believe that Alexander had endured such a tragedy.” She felt the weight of hopelessness but struggled to push it aside. “When did this happen?”
“Two years past come today. Aye, ‘twas a clear but bitter day, just like this one.”
“And I pick this day to tell him my news,” she muttered and shook her head.
“The when of such news makes no difference, m’lady,” Angus said, revealing that Ailis’s pregnancy was no longer a secret. “He wanted no more children, for he fears to lose another. However, ‘tis past time the lad learned that he canna keep tussling about without some seed taking root.” He smiled faintly when Ailis blushed.
“Quite so. Show me where this kirkyard is.”
“ ‘Tis outside the walls of Rathmor, m’lady. Ye arena supposed to leave this bailey. Ye could try to flee.”
“Angus, I am a MacFarlane lass seeded with a MacDubh child. Do ye really believe I would wish to go back to my kinsmen?”
After meeting and holding her gaze for a full minute, Angus came to a decision. “Nay, of course ye wouldna. Your fate is locked to ours.”
“Irretrievably so.”
“Just go out of this gate, lass, and follow the path that leads west into the wood. ‘Tis but a wee stone, chapel, and the poor lass’s grave is just behind it.”
“And ye think it is safe for Alexander to linger there?”
