And cared for you night and day through your sickness, kissing you with whispered words of tenderness…
Nay! She covered her face with her hands, determined not to soften, not to think of those moments again. She should be glad to get away from Duncan MacRae’s passions and his temper. She should be glad for the freedom she’d gain once she left.
But she wasn’t.
All she knew was that from this day forward, the pain inside of her was never going to stop. Never, so long as she was forced to be parted from this man who was both her sweetness and her curse…the man who held her heart in the tender cruelty of his hands.
Duncan peered from behind the wall slit, eyes narrowed, watching Gavin MacDonell emerge dripping and shaking from the loch to vanish into the shadow of the trees. The other MacDonells were in the act of leaving as well; Robert’s mount had just cleared the gate, and his men were thundering after him.
Duncan fingered his claymore, unsheathing it and running his thumb along the edge. Had Robert’s visit been a ruse, then—a distraction, conceived to divert his attention while Gavin spirited Aileana away?
It was possible, except that Gavin had crossed the loch and left alone. Besides that, something told Duncan that Robert knew nothing of the secret visit. He’d been enraged, actually, when Duncan had denied him the chance to see his sister. If he’d known of Gavin, he’d have avoided the request, fearing to let anyone catch his brother in Aileana’s chamber.
Nay, surely Gavin had worked alone this time. He’d gone to Aileana to pollute her, to pull her into his deceitful snare.
What had been said? What evil plot laid out for his demise and the ruin of the MacRaes?
Anger roiled in Duncan’s breast, partly against Gavin, and partly against himself for being so gullible again. It mingled with pain as he remembered the last time he’d allowed Gavin MacDonell to creep past the defenses of Eilean Donan. Mairi had died that day.
Now Gavin meant to sway Aileana to more mischief. Fiery, headstrong Aileana, who had somehow worked her way into his soul and made him care for her, even though he knew that he could never have her. Gavin had likely given her advice on how to betray him.
Arrows of heat shot behind Duncan’s eyes. Thirteen years ago the MacDonells had knocked him senseless in order to accomplish their evil against him. This time, he had his wits about him, and whether she wanted him to or no, he was going to protect Aileana against herself and the insidious pull of her brother’s schemes.
Sending his claymore hissing back into its sheath, Duncan turned toward the stairs, taking them two at a time. He stalked toward the chamber that housed his fiery-haired, impetuous bird…the sweet MacDonell nightingale who was about to sing out all of the secrets of her heart to him.
Every one of them. And now.
Chapter 17
Duncan slammed open the door to his bedchamber and stopped still. Cold gushed through the room, and one of the windows gaped open, making the tapestries flap and flutter against the wall.
Something was amiss. Aileana had vanished, as surely as if she’d melted into the misty air. He took a step forward, his gaze slipping around the chamber, noting each piece of furniture, every square of blanket and covering. Nothing was out of place. There’d been no struggle.
Damn her. She must have escaped right after her bastard of a—
A flash of color at the window caught Duncan’s eye. Fiery. A waving mass of light auburn, shining with glints of gold. The figure moved into view of the casement, standing on the wrong side of the wall…perched on the ledge. Poised. Waiting.
Waiting? For…what the devil?
Duncan’s mind seemed to slow to a maddening pace. Each moment lingered an eternity. He saw Aileana twist to look at him. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, her expression grief-stricken.
He bolted forward, lunging for her as he realized her intent. It was like that day at the cliffs all over again. She was going to go over the edge, and he had to stop her. Catch her before she fell to the grinding stones of the loch below. But as he thrust his hand through the open casement to grip her, she tipped forward, throwing herself away from him. His gloved fingertips barely brushed the fabric of her skirts as she slipped from his grasp.
“Aileana! Nay!” The words ripped from his throat. Shock filled his chest and pressed the breath from his lungs. Frantic, he threw himself against the casement, reaching over as far as he could, only to see her fall away from him, down, down, down. To the cold, gray waters and rocks below…
Before coming to a jerking halt that forced an unladylike grunt from her lips.
A faint trickle of curses drifted up to his ears, and relief flooded Duncan with a stabbing sensation. His heart pounded heavy and hard. Painful. But with the rush of feeling came strength. And fast behind it, renewed anger.
Taking hold of the knotted cord that held Aileana suspended ten feet above the water, Duncan pulled. He grated his teeth, scowling and concentrating on hoisting her back inside the room. His muscles flexed and contracted, and he forced himself to focus on the satisfying ache that radiated through his arms and back.
When she clambered into the chamber again, she looked meek and bedraggled; her hair and clothing were disheveled, the cord hung limp around her waist, and she held her arm around herself there as if her ribs pained her. It would be no surprise if they did, he thought, waiting for her to speak. But her gaze was fixed to the floor, and with each passing second, the silence weighed heavier between them.
“Damn it, Aileana,” Duncan murmured at last. “Why did you let him get to you?”
She looked up at him in surprise, her eyes shadowed and her lashes clumped with tears.
“Aye,” he said softly, “I know very well about Gavin’s visit.”
