“Come join me near the fire, MacRae,” Robert said, slapping the bench. “We’ve much to discuss.” He gave Aileana a sly wink. “In truth, I’m starting to think that this match between you and my sister might be a good one. A very good one indeed.”
The date of the wedding was set. The ceremony would take place soon, shortly after the passing ofSamhainat the end of October. But for all of the preparations that consumed the days and exhausted everyone by nightfall, Aileana still lay awake, staring up at the stonework of the ceiling. It was near dawn, already; she could tell by the leaden cast to the light outside the shutter. With a sigh, she turned on her side in the vast emptiness of the bed, missing Duncan’s warmth and wishing that he’d not had to leave for another of the seemingly incessant raids he’d been forced to lead against some of the rogue clans that kept plaguing them. He’d said he planned to be home by dark today, though, so she’d resolved to be patient.
But it was for more than just missing him that sleep would not come easily, she knew. Every time she began to relax and her eyes began to drift shut, it was the same. The same startling, disturbing image shot through her mind, jolting her to complete, stark awareness again…The Ealach falling, its golden chain twisting in the speed of its descent. Then splashing into water, cold, gray anddeep, floating down, before disappearing into the murk of the ocean.
Her logic told her that she was only reliving the horror of that day when she’d jumped over the bluff’s edge to elude capture. But her heart thrummed a different story. Something deeper inspired this vision; she knew it in her soul. It was almost the same as the odd tingling she’d gotten the morning she’d realized that theEalachwas in danger. The morning Father had taken it out to the battlefield. Only this feeling was even more persistent. It compelled her. But why? The amulet was hidden in the grotto, safe from harm. Or was it?
Sitting up in bed, Aileana shuddered. What if theEalachhad been taken from the security of its hiding place? She gripped the blankets tightly to her chest, looking toward the shutter to see the light of dawn peeking through the cracks. It was enough to see her path back to the grotto; if she set out soon she could be back before supper. Then she could rest easier about its safety—perhaps even bring it back and make a gift of it to Duncan. A sign of her faith in him and the rightness of their union…
Scrambling from beneath the coverlet, Aileana hurried to dress and ready herself for the journey. She needed to do this alone and yet she knew she’d have to tell Bridgid of her plans to take one of the horses and be gone for the day. Perhaps she could hide her true purposes under the guise of seeking out some mandrake for their herb supplies, she thought, as she hastily plaited her hair. Likely none would wish to accompany her then, fearing as they did the darker magical qualities associated with cultivating the roots of that plant.
Aye, that was a plan. It would serve to protect her true reason of retrieving theEalach. Now she just had to hurry to set everything in motion so that she could return to Eilean Donan before Duncan did.
Nora crouched deeper into the shadows behind the cart near the stable, watching through narrowed eyes as Aileana MacDonell led a haltered pony out into the misty dawn light. A sour taste filled her mouth as she studied her rival, trying to see just what it was…what gift Aileana could possibly possess that had allowed her to claim such a resounding victory with Duncan.
She was beautiful, aye, but Nora herself had turned many a head in her day. It had to be more than that. It had to be something powerful enough to entice the laird from Nora’s bed, blinding him to the truth of what the MacDonell traitor was. Something that would have compelled him to elevate Aileana from the humiliating position of leman to one as his honored betrothed.
Witchcraft.
She’d long suspected it. Aileana MacDonell was surely practicing the black arts, just as Nora had heard her cursed sister did before her. It had to be that. Nothing else could explain the change that had come over Duncan within days of the conniving wench’s arrival at Eilean Donan.
Oh, Aileana had pretended to be innocent, and within a few weeks of coming to live with them, she’d even mastered the pretense of caring about the MacRaes. She’d lured Bridgid, Kinnon, and many of the others into believing, even going so far as to cleverly using some of her skills to aid the clan when the plague struck.
That she herself had fallen sick after nursing them all was the only fly in the ointment of Nora’s conviction, but she wagered that Aileana had used her ungodly arts to feign symptoms of the illness in order to garner Duncan’s sympathies and attention. And it had worked, damn her eyes. Her spells were potent.
Now, finally, Nora had a chance to prove it. Aileana had been up earlier than usual this morn, intending to go off on her own to collect more herbs before winter snows fell in earnest…or so Nora had overheard her saying to Bridgid. She sought mandrake, she’d told thebailie, and so she would go alone, to prevent anyone else from becoming tainted if aught went awry as she collected the dangerous root.
But Nora knew that was a ploy; she was sure Aileana was leaving the confines of the castle grounds to practice more spells. Spells to keep Duncan by her side.
Aye, the time was right. She’d follow Aileana this morning to see just what she was up to—and when she caught her at her witchery, then at last she would be able to prove to Duncan, once and for all, that he’d made a terrible and dangerous mistake…
For he would finally see that when he’d asked Aileana MacDonell to marry him, he’d taken a snake to his bosom instead of a bride.
Chapter 20
The glen looked dim, even in the mid-morning sun. Aileana suppressed a shiver. She’d felt strangely all morning, but she’d be finished here soon enough. She squinted, searching for the spot. It was hidden well. Dragon’s breath but she wanted nothing more than to find the amulet and bring it and herself home to Duncan and their warm bed. A smile teased her lips. Thoughts of Duncan had sustained her through the dark hours of travel. Even when the rain began, soaking her to the skin, she’d kept on, driven by an image of his face and the memory of his touch. She loved him, and giving him theEalachwould be a final act of trust, a gift to ensure he never need doubt her commitment to him again.
But first she needed to find it.
Pulling the old, frayed plaid she’d brought with her as a cloak more firmly over her damp hair, she stepped into the chill of the glen. Bits of sun sparkled through the copper and gold leaves still clinging to the trees, belying the storms of the night. Mist rose from the mossy ground, making her shiver. It was cold. Much cooler here than along the barren stretch of road she’d followed from Eilean Donan. Her breath hung around her in white puffs, dissolving almost as soon as it took shape.
Then a jutting boulder caught her gaze, and she paused. Its brown and red contours looked familiar. A twisted root nearby seemed to point to a mossy patch of earth, just as she remembered.This was it. The spot that—
A chill raked up her spine an instant before she heard it. Soft laughter, tinkling over her like a shower of ice. Whirling to face the sound, Aileana gasped. Her hand flew to her throat, and she took a step back. Ten paces away, half hidden in the gloom, stood a disembodied vision. A haunt like those of a thousand Highland stories told round the fire of a cold winter’s evening. Only this spirit was more frightful than any anonymous fiend she might have faced. She knew this shade’s identity.
“Morgana?” She breathed her sister’s name, fear and awe closing her throat so that only a whisper escaped. She almost expected the vision to melt before her eyes into the mists of the glen.
“You remember me, then, little sister.”
Aileana swallowed. She’d never known spirits to speak. Yet this could be nothing but a phantom. “Why have you returned here? Is something troubling you that you seek me out?”
Morgana laughed again, throwing back her head, and the rippling cascade of sound filled the glen. When her amusement abated, she stepped closer to Aileana, directly into a shaft of sunlight that shone through the branches of the trees. It kissed the glossy waves of her red hair, her luminous blue eyes…theEalachamulet that hung shining around her neck.
“Ah,” Morgana said, cocking her head, “it’s a fine story I’ll be telling, what with you thinking me a ghostie come back to haunt. How delicious, when the truth is nothing more otherworldly than that you came upon me here just as I was readying to return to my holding in the north.”
Bewilderment, joy, and uncertainty all blended in a torrent as Aileana faced the sister she’d last seen more than thirteen years before. It seemed a dream. Unreal.
“They told me you were dead.”
