Mary Reed McCall (16 page)

The hall went silent. Duncan let his hand drift along Aileana’s arm, close enough to her breast to make her gasp. He forced himself to remain unmoved when she pushed him back angrily, tears springing to her eyes.

Facing the chief again, he dropped his remaining words like cannon balls. “I took her as my leman.”

The silence thickened in the hall, rising up to strangle Aileana. She thought that shame would swallow her whole, leaving nothing but a patch of scorched stone where she’d been standing.

The MacKenzie also looked ready to choke, grasping for words that refused to come. He finally muttered, “I see,” then waved his empty cup in demand for something to drink.

With his utterance the room came to life again. A fierce buzzing began in Aileana’s ears. She seemed to be viewing the scene from a distance, yet so close that she felt smothered by it. Duncan stood to her right, though she saw only his rigid profile in her refusal to turn her eyes on him. But even through her shock, she noticed that Bridgid cast her a sympathetic look. Kinnon sat slumped in his chair, staring at the table. The hall’s other inhabitants moved and whispered in a dizzying swell of sight and sound. Everything slowed for Aileana as she turned to Duncan. Her cheeks burned and her lungs strained with the effort it took to
keep breathing, to keep from crying her pain aloud.

In the instant that he met her gaze, she saw the hardness of his expression, took in the almost agonizing rigidity of his beautiful, scarred face. But something flickered in his eyes. A shadow passed through their depths, darkening the cold gray with what might have been a glimmer of regret. Heat burned her eyelids. It didn’t matter. Sorry or not, it didn’t change anything. Nothing mattered now, except the sense of degradation that Duncan had heaped on her.

Without making a sound, Aileana fled the hall, bursting into the courtyard and not stopping until she stumbled to the ground near the well. Cold scorched her lungs, and, once she was free of prying eyes, cries ripped from her throat, fueled by the swelling sense of injustice and rage. Wrapping her arms around her middle, Aileana edged to the far side of the well, hiding from the view of anyone who might come out of the castle. She rocked back and forth, her now soft keening distant in her own ears, the heat behind her eyes driving, bitter, desperate.

After a while the world started to come into focus again. The pain eased. The tears stopped, and hurt faded to numbness. She sat still now, staring ahead with nothing but a huge, bleak hole inside of her that threatened to smother her in darkness.

It had been so cruel
.

Duncan had treated her like a whore in front of his entire clan. In front of Bridgid and Kinnon and the MacKenzies. And it hurt all the more because she’d thought that the two of them had reached an uneasy truce, a certain level of understanding. Thought that he felt some kind of tenderness for her.

She’d thought.

Why think at all, twit? You’re his leman, nothing more. That he hasn’t made you so in truth is but a trifle to anyone. If they’d even believe it.

Rubbing her hand across her nose, Aileana blinked. But the tears just kept flowing. Duncan’s act today had been purposely callous. Worse, even, than his treatment of her that first day in the forest, for she’d been running from him then, concealing what he thought was his. Today she’d done nothing to warrant such abuse. She’d—

“The repaired wall is over there. I’ll be but a moment getting the plans, and then I’ll meet you loch-side.”

Aileana sat up a little straighter, brushing her fingers across her eyes again and twisting around, enough to see who spoke without being seen herself.

Her gaze narrowed. It was as she thought. Duncan led the MacKenzie and a few of his men into the yard.
Overbearing wretch
. She watched as he showed off the work he’d completed on his precious castle. It was the only thing he truly cared about after all—his pile of rock and stone.

Duncan broke off from the others and started her way, alone. Stiffening, Aileana pressed back against the wall and held her breath. He passed less than six paces from her, but he didn’t notice her.

It was nothing new
. She almost scoffed aloud at the aptness of her observation. She watched from behind, as he ducked his golden brown head to enter the storage room. The breadth of his shoulders filled the doorway an instant before he disappeared into the dark recesses of the chamber.

Before she really knew what she was doing, Aileana had surged to her feet and charged toward the spot. An idea bloomed in her mind like a deadly flower, filling her thoughts with venom. The arrogant boor had a lesson to
learn, and an opportunity for instruction had just presented itself. Hot emotions drove her forward. She had to lean halfway into the room in order to grasp the heavy wooden bar that would latch the door from the outside, but she gritted her teeth and pulled until the slab of reinforced beams began to groan and move.

And as Duncan whirled to face her in the shadowed recesses, Aileana paused, locking her gaze for just a moment with his in a glare of grim satisfaction…

Before slamming the door shut and dropping the bar, trapping him inside the darkened chamber with a resounding thud.

S
ilence settled on Duncan, freezing him with disbelief.
The insolent woman had shut him in
. He took three steps forward, blinking in the pitch darkness. When he encountered nothing but blank air, a tickle of unease lit in his belly. He shook it off, scowling and reaching to find the door. Hell, it was only a few steps farther; the chamber wasn’t that large.

A lancing pain shot up from his toe as his foot glanced off a wooden crate.
Damn
. He’d veered too far to the right. As he rubbed away the ache, Duncan sucked in his breath and scowled more deeply. He hoped Aileana was enjoying her jest, because in a few short moments she was going to pay for it. When he got outside this cursed little chamber he’d—

His gloved hands hit something hard.
The door
. Relief filled him, tingling to the ends of his fingers as he found the hand latch and pushed.

Nothing. It wouldn’t budge.

That set Duncan back on his heels again.
Curse her
. She’d thrown the bar home. His mouth tightened. There was only one other method of escape that he could think of trying. But he’d need some luck to accomplish it.

Pressing his shoulder to the resisting planks, Duncan used his entire weight to try to jiggle the bar off its latch. For an instant it felt like the bar lifted and teetered, ready to fall off. But then it clunked back into place. He pushed again, just to be sure. It remained fixed. Unmoving.

“Aileana, open the door,” he called. He sounded irritated, and his own voice echoed back at him, mocking him. Silence reigned supreme, emphasizing the knowledge that he found harder and harder to ignore.

He was imprisoned here.

Locked in.
Just like he’d been in the Tower
.

A cold sweat broke across his brow.
No, damn it. He wouldn’t think on it.
He stared through the darkness, searching for even a sliver of light—a tiny flicker to hold onto, to help keep it at bay. But there was only darkness. Unending blackness. Duncan fisted his hands and closed his eyes, trying to stave it off, trying to breathe deep and keep his head clear. He needed to stay calm. It was but a prank, plotted in ignorance. Nothing more.

Clenching his jaw, Duncan repeated the phrase in his mind. He willed himself to break free of the memories, to keep steady. To find a way out. But when he opened his eyes, the familiar, sickening jolt sliced through him. God, he couldn’t stop it. It kept coming.

Relentless.

Cold sweat spread to the rest of his body. The old weakness began to invade his chest, his arms, his legs, making him sink to his knees on the dirt floor, while the
tide of images swept over him with the ferocity of a charging army.

A tiny room. Dark. Cold.

He was there again. Trapped and helpless…

Yanked to his feet, his muscles screaming, he was dragged down the hall. His legs scraped across ragged edges of stone, the shackles biting deep into his flesh. They threw him to the floor of the chamber. One of the bastards grabbed his right arm, stretching it out, so that his hand lay, palm down, on the bloodstained, wooden slab at the room’s center.

Fear prickled through him. Nausea and impotent rage filled his throat, choking him. He saw the rock lifted high above his hand, tried to jerk away, strained to pull his arm back, even as the nerves of his fingers thrummed in preparation for the impact. But they held him fast. Laughing, taunting.

The rock cracked down, and he started to scream…

“Nay!” The primal roar burst from Duncan’s lungs as he bolted upright. He slammed his body into the heavy wood of the storage door, pummeling the beams with his fists. He heard a crack…and then the solid mass began to give way. Splinters of light shot into the chamber, blinding him as the door burst open with a crunch of wood and metal. He pushed through, falling to the ground and gasping for air.

His heart beat thick in his ears, and he gradually became aware of the harsh sound of his own breathing. Dirt. He tasted dirt in his mouth, gritty and cold. But the crushing weakness began to ebb. He pushed himself up on his hands, raising his head slowly. And he saw them. They were all staring.

The MacKenzie, his men, and Kinnon stood across
the courtyard, stock still, their expressions aghast. Kinnon moved first, running to Duncan to grasp his arm and pull him to his feet.

“What the hell happened?”

“Aileana,” Duncan rasped. His throat felt seared with the air he sucked into his lungs. “I’ll wring her neck with my bare hands.” He shoved past Kinnon. “Where is she?”

“Aileana?” Kinnon’s brow furrowed.

“She locked me in there with no light…” Duncan’s voice grated quieter now, as he swallowed the nausea that had threatened to overwhelm him. “And I couldn’t stop it from coming. Everything all over again.”

Kinnon went pale. “Christ Almighty…”

Without another word, Duncan strode toward the castle, clenching his fists. The rage he’d experienced with the MacKenzie seemed nothing compared to the feelings raking his heart at this moment. He stopped at the well, pulling up the bucket and plunging his gloved hands into the water. He cupped his palms, bringing them up to sluice the icy liquid over his face.

Standing straight again, he breathed deep. A hard, cold calm filled him, driving out the panic, the terror…the sense of helplessness that had consumed him.
She’d gone too far this time.
There’d be no more looking the other way. No more humoring her little revolts against him. Aileana MacDonell had declared open war against him this day, and he’d be damned if he’d let her retreat from the battlefield unscathed.

He found her in the great hall, bent over the table, washing a single spot as if she wanted to wear a hole in the wood. His anger pitched higher. How dare she appear so innocent? He tensed as he strode to her, eager to escalate their personal fray. And he knew just the way—
a strategic attack that would shred all of her defenses as completely as she’d just tried to destroy his.

Aileana glanced up from her work and felt a stab of pure fear. Duncan charged through the entryway, looking as he had that day on the field outside Dulhmeny—face pale, eyes icy gray, his expression dark and intense, like one of God’s fallen angels. But she hardly had time to gasp before he was upon her, clamping her arm in his wet, leather-covered grip. Wordlessly, he began to drag her to the stairway.

“What are you doing?” Her voice sounded too loud in the unnatural quiet of the hall.

She hazarded a glance at his profile, then wished she hadn’t. He stared straight ahead as he pulled her along, not answering. Ripples of fear multiplied in her belly, spreading outward, until they threatened to immobilize her. She began to struggle against him in earnest.

“Where are you taking me?” She braced her heels against the stone floor and twisted in his grasp. But he was resolute. Strong.

Though she kicked and fought, Duncan continued to take her up the stairway. When he reached the landing, she slammed her foot into his shin with a satisfying thud. He stopped, then. But other than the cessation of movement, he showed no reaction. Aileana swallowed and held her breath. As his gaze met hers, her heart stilled, and she cringed. He seemed to stare right through her as if she didn’t exist, like she was no more than a speck of dust to be crushed under his heel.

“If you do not come with me peacefully, I swear I’ll tie and gag you to get you there if I have to.” His voice echoed low and dangerous.

“I’ll ask you again, where are you taking me?”

“I’m securing you in my chamber.”

Her head felt too light, and a hollow space opened in her belly. “You plan to lock me in?”

Though he didn’t answer, his eyes spoke for him, unyielding and furious.

Trying to still her rising panic, Aileana clenched her fingers convulsively in her skirts. “When will I be released?”

“You won’t.”

Her breath escaped in a rush, followed by a renewed swell of sickness. She despised the pleading in her voice, but she couldn’t stop it any more than she could stop herself from taking in air. “You cannot hold me there. Please…I—I cannot bear to be confined to a chamber again.”

“You’ve left me no other choice.”

Her sob broke off into a shriek as Duncan picked her up by the waist and slung her over his shoulder. All too soon she was set on her feet again inside his room. When she tried to push around him and run out, Duncan stood in her way, his chest as unmovable a wall as any in Eilean Donan.

“Do not try to escape. This lock is strong, and it’s a long way down to the loch from the windows.” He stepped back, preparing to leave. “I’ll be staying here of the evenings as usual. Attempt any more trickery, and I’ll have you moved to the dungeons below.” His steel eyes darkened. “Trust me when I say that you do not want to be put there.”

Aileana’s lips trembled. Although she hated herself for it, she reached out, hoping to stop him, to make him pause at least. “Please,” she said. “I’m begging you, Duncan. Don’t do this. I—”

“I’ll be returning after sundown,” he broke in, cutting short her plea. She stared at him, her eyes filling with
tears. Then, as if in a dream, she saw him avert his gaze. He turned his back to her and drew the door shut behind him.

And as he clicked the lock home, it was with the precision of an expert swordsman striking for his mark…landing it directly into the center of her heart.

The shout for departure went up. With the MacKenzie in the lead, the procession of horses, litters, wagons and people started to move. The chief raised his arm in a last farewell, half turning in his saddle to meet Duncan’s gaze once more.

Duncan returned the gesture and nodded. An array of feelings assaulted him as he watched his chief pass through the gate and down the causeway. He’d not forgiven the MacKenzie for his lack of action against Morgana and her clan those many years ago, but at least the burning rage had faded.

“Will you be coming inside now? It’s a good time for a cup of ale, I’d say.”

Duncan looked at Kinnon. “Aye, I’ll be joining you, but not right away.” He glanced up. As expected, Aileana stood silhouetted in one of the bedchamber windows. Her expression seemed to condemn him. She looked tired and drawn, as she’d been each time he’d seen her in the three days since she’d been confined to his chamber.

Kinnon followed Duncan’s gaze up to the window and shook his head. In the next moment she was gone, vanished like a wraith in the mists of the moors.

“You cannot keep her up there forever, Duncan.”

“Aye. But I can’t let her loose either. Once she gives me the
Ealach
, I’ll be sending her home, but not before.” Duncan clenched his jaw and stared at the thin layer of
new snow blanketing the dirt and grass around the castle. He glanced up again at the dark window, his heart heavy in his chest before starting back toward the castle. By the time he reached the kitchens, Bridgid was in the process of covering Aileana’s breakfast tray with a clean towel. Steam rose from a cup of spiced ale she poured from the kettle, and she placed the drink next to the other things on the tray.

“I’ll be taking her food up this morning, Bridgid. Give it to me and go on with your other duties.”

The
bailie
looked startled, her eyes wide, as she handed the tray to Duncan. “Is everything in order? Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you to…to help in any way?”

The anxiety in her voice made Duncan wince. It was clear that she cared for Aileana and was concerned for her safety.
Perhaps Bridgid thought him a monster now as well.
After his flare of temper the afternoon he’d dragged Aileana upstairs, he couldn’t blame her.

“I wish to speak with Aileana in private; that is all.”

Bridgid colored pink. “I’m just worried for the girl.”

Duncan’s teeth ached he was clenching them so hard. “There is nothing to fear, I assure you.” He started toward the stairs. “While I’m with Aileana I need you to prepare food enough for me and four of my men. If all goes as I plan, I’ll be taking a short journey before nightfall.”

“Aye, it will be done.”

With a nod, Duncan carried the tray to the steps, taking each stair slowly, deliberately, to allow himself time to think of what to say to Aileana, and how. They hadn’t exchanged a word in the three days she’d been held; each night when he’d come to the chamber, she was already in her pallet, feigning sleep. He’d never pressed the
point, though he knew her to be as awake and sleepless as he was. It was the one concession he’d been willing to make.

Halfway up the stairway, Duncan paused. His feet refused to move further. He felt weighted down and unhappy, but his feelings made no sense. If what he was about to do proved successful, he’d finally gain all that he’d wanted, all that he’d dreamed of for thirteen years. Yet it left him empty. Aching.

He reached the top of the landing. Setting the tray on a table in the hall, he pulled the key from the tie at his waist. The lock turned with a rusty creak, and the door swung open to silence. From his position the room looked vacant and cold, though a fire burned in the grate. The faint crackling of the flames was the only sound to break the stillness.

He stared through the shadows.
There she was.
His heart thudded a slow, steady rhythm. Aileana sat with her back to the door, hidden in a corner, her chair a few paces from the window. She’d drawn back the curtain, but he noticed that she’d positioned herself far enough from the pane to avoid being seen from outside.

“I’ve brought your food.” He stepped in and waited.

At the sound of his voice, she twisted around, but the look of surprise lasted only an instant before she masked her expression.

“Have you decided to play nurse to me again, then? It has been weeks now since you first thought it amusing to undertake the chore during my bout with the plague.” She spoke quietly, but her words pricked him.

“Nay.” Duncan cleared his throat. “Bringing your meal is not the only reason I’m here.” He put the tray down, indicating that she should eat if she wished, but she shook her head and remained seated. He walked
closer to her, silent, pausing to stare out as she was at the loch, glowing pink and yellow now in the rising sun.