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Laird of the Mist

Page 69

by Elizabeth English

Donal stiffened, his eyes flashing.

"To think I used to admire ye," he spat. "Now—"

"Oh, spare me," Alistair said contemptuously. "If ye want to be a fool, dinna hold me to blame for it."

With that he staggered down the hall, satisfied that Donal would spread the word of his treachery. Calder would surely hear of it ere morning.

But later, as Alistair hovered on the edge of sleep, he wasn't thinking of the promises he'd made or the impossible burden he had shouldered. He was finally remembering the images he'd pushed from his mind all day: Deirdre leaning back against him, her head against his shoulder. Deirdre standing on the hillside, dark hair flying about her face, crying out for him to leave her be, that she never wanted to speak to him again. And worst of all was Deirdre, tears of joy running down her cheeks, clasped in the Irishman's arms.

With a hoarse cry Alistair turned his face into the pillow. But even the sound of his own anguish could not drown out the flutter of dark wings above.

CHAPTER 29

"I hear ye were visiting Jemmy last night."

Alistair was kneeling on the hard-packed earth of the paddock, adjusting the spur around his boot. He finished the job, taking his time about it, then rose to his feet. The wind was chill against his bare chest, and he picked up the shirt folded across the fence. The horse he had been engaged in breaking stood trembling on the end of the long lead rope. Alistair motioned to a groom, who led the exhausted stallion to the stable.

"That's right," he said briefly, tilting his head to meet Calder's eye.

"Well, what did ye say to him?"

The three men behind Calder stood, arms folded, and regarded him with stony eyes.

"I told him to go back to Spain," he answered briefly, pulling the shirt over his head.

Calder let out a hissing breath of annoyance. "I thought we agreed—"

"No, you agreed. I did not. And I decided I didna want to stand back and let things happen around me."

"Ye should have come to me first," Calder began furiously. "Who the devil do ye think ye are?"

"I know exactly who I am," Alistair snapped. "It's you who seem to have forgotten."

Calder's gripped the front of Alistair's shirt, pulling him close. "We dinna need ye here, Alistair."

Alistair brought his hands up between Calder's, breaking the man's grasp. Then his fist shot out and buried itself in Calder's stomach. The breath went out of him in a startled gasp, and before he could recover, Alistair struck him squarely on the jaw.

Calder's men were slow, Alistair thought as the three of them sprang forward. He easily evaded them and seized Calder by the hair, jerking his head upright, instinctively reaching for the dagger in his belt. He cursed silently when he found it was not there and bent instead to pull the small knife from his boot.

"Back," he ordered the men. When they did not obey at once, he touched the point to the soft skin of Calder's neck.

"Ye heard him!" Calder shouted. "Get back."

When the men had retreated to a safe distance, Alistair released Calder and bent to sheathe his knife as the larger man struggled to his feet.

"I thought ye knew me better," Alistair said, shaking his head.

"I thought I did, too," Calder said, leaning against the fence and rubbing his throat. "But ye havena been yourself since ye came back."

"These are dangerous times, Calder," Alistair said. "A man does well to keep himself to himself. Otherwise, a man can make mistakes. You made one yesterday—but I think ye ken that now. Am I right?"

"Aye." Calder bit off the word.

"Malcolm is mine. Don't forget it. As for Jemmy—well, he's my kinsman and I had to give him a chance to see reason. Just as I am giving you today. He was fool enough not to take it, but I don't think you'll make the same mistake."

"I won't," Calder said, and though his tone was conciliatory, Alistair was more interested in his fingers, clenched white-knuckled on the fence.

"That's good," he said, just as though he accepted Calder's words as truth. "Now the laird has sent for me. I am here at his command and he has given me his blessing. 'Twould be foolish to do anything to make the clan doubt his judgment. Do ye hear that, Calder? We do nothing."