When she scowled at him, he quickly added, “Ye are a MacDonell in name only, and MacKenzie blood runs thick through your veins. I have faith that ye will do as our father commands.”

Sybella was so angry that tears welled in her eyes. “An diobhail toirt leis thu. Mach a seo!” The devil take you. Get out!

Colin merely walked out and closed the door behind him. Fury almost choked her. Her marriage was nothing more than another MacKenzie scheme. If Alex ever found out, there would be a bloody war. And reiving would no longer be an option. It would be man against man, sword against sword, to see who could shed the most blood between them.

She closed her eyes.

Sybella had spoken the sacred vows that bound her and Alex as one. MacKenzie blood or not, she was now a MacDonell. She had pledged her troth. Tears slowly slid down her cheeks. Her misery was like a weight upon her shoulders, a stab of guilt buried deep in her breast. How was she supposed to get herself out of this situation? Alex had preached words of honesty and trust. Perhaps she could find a way to speak with him without making him angry and without blood being shed. She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d say, but she’d figure it out. She always did. She had started this marriage under a false pretense, and now it was clearly time to right that wrong.

Sybella wandered aimlessly through the halls in search of her husband. She would need to proceed cautiously and think about her words before they escaped her lips, lest she find herself on the pointy end of Alex’s sword.

She reached Alex’s study and was lifting her hand to knock when raised voices sounded from within. She had to admit that she was curious if Colin had taken his leave or if he had again sought out her husband.

Sybella looked around and then placed her ear to the door.

“’Tis good to have ye again under roof, MacGregor. I grow tired of the damn MacKenzies.”

“Ye still donna trust them?” asked a deep voice.

Alex smirked. “As much as ye trusted the bloody Campbell.”

Twelve

“And ye must be Lady Sybella MacDonell, my cousin’s new wife.”

Sybella bolted upright, her eyes widening in surprise as she tried to mask the guilty look on her face. The woman speaking had chestnut tresses and wore a dusky rose dress that hugged her full-figured frame. She carried a bairn with curly brown locks and azure eyes that stared back at Sybella.

“My apologies. I was searching for my husband to tell him that my brother had taken his leave. I didnae know ye had arrived, my lady.” Sybella approached the woman and smiled. Running her hand over the bairn’s head, she said, “’Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady MacGregor. And who have we here?”

The woman’s face lit up. “Please call me Rosalia. And this is my son, Lachlann.”

“Only if ye call me Sybella. And if ye donna mind me saying so, your son is a handsome laddie.”

“Thank ye. He is almost one year now and has already been taking steps and getting into trouble. Granted, he staggers like his Uncle Declan when he is in his cups, but my wee lad does try his best.”

“He is a lad. Of course he is getting into mischief,” said Sybella with a giggle. “Have ye seen Aunt Iseabail yet?”

“Nay, we only walked through the gates a moment ago, and Alexander stole Ciaran away to his study.”

“Then come. Ye have had a long journey. Let me offer ye something to eat and drink, and we will find your seanmhair.” Grandmother.

Sybella walked with Rosalia and Lachlann by her side when she wanted to do nothing more than crawl back into bed and lift the covers over her head. And to think she had almost been foolhardy enough to speak the truth to her husband! How many times had Alex preached to her about truth and honesty—yet she still couldn’t fathom the words that she’d heard escape his lips. If he couldn’t follow his own advice, how could she be expected to honor him with the same courtesy?

She bit her lip to stifle her outcry. Alex didn’t trust her. Not that she had given him any reason to place his faith in her, but the thought gnawed at her gut. How was she supposed to search for the stone now? Something must have shown upon her face because Rosalia interrupted her thoughts.

“We didnae arrive at an inopportune moment, did we? Ye look troubled, my lady.”

Sybella forced a smile. “Nay, and please call me Sybella.”

As they sat in the great hall, Sybella couldn’t stop her racing heart. Her face burned with the memory of Colin’s words. Her father would never let her rest until she found that dreaded stone. And here she was, placed in a dangerous position that required her to betray her husband and his clan. Then again, how could she possibly deceive Alex when he had never trusted her to begin with?

“So how do ye find being wed to Alexander?” asked Rosalia, bouncing Lachlann gently on her lap.

“’Tis something we are both yet getting accustomed to.”

“Your clan must be fairly close if your brother was able to pay ye a visit.”

“My clan is from Kintail. ’Tis about a day’s ride from Glengarry.”

Rosalia lowered her voice. “Alexander wrote in his missive that my seanmhair isnae doing well. Her memory is fading.”

Sybella sighed. “I notice it more when she becomes upset, but aye, she is sometimes forgetful. The day after Alex and I wed, we found Aunt Iseabail walking in the woods in her bare feet. She came across the path of a lone wolf. If Alex hadnae arrived when he did…She said she was searching for Alex but didnae remember her purpose and didnae realize she wore nay boots.”

“My poor seanmhair. ’Tis one of the reasons we came to Glengarry. We havenae seen her since Ciaran and I wed. And she has yet to lay her eyes upon Lachlann.”

At that moment, Aunt Iseabail walked into the great hall with outstretched arms. “My dearest Rosalia. How lovely to see ye again.”

Rosalia stood with Lachlann and embraced her seanmhair with one arm. “’Tis so wonderful to see ye.” She pulled back and smiled. “Seanmhair, I have someone I would like ye to meet. This wee lad is your great-grandson, Lachlann.”

Aunt Iseabail’s eyes glowed with enjoyment. “Ye have brought me the greatest gift of all, Rosalia. He is absolutely bonny. And he looks just like his sister, Anabel.”

Rosalia paled.

* * *

Alex sat in his study with the MacGregor, grateful for another generous gift of ale. No sooner had Sybella’s brother walked out of the gates than MacGregor had appeared. The man’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Now that Alex knew about some of the MacKenzies machinations against the MacLeods of Lewis, he sought MacGregor’s counsel. He would have time to visit with his cousin later, but at the moment, Alex was more curious to see if the MacGregor had any sound advice to offer him.

“So the MacKenzie’s son told ye that they killed innocents?” asked MacGregor, shaking his head in disgust.

“Aye. I cannae think of anyone else who would want to kill my wife.”

“’Tis a logical choice to think the MacLeod would want to avenge his clan by taking aim at your wife.”

“Aye, but I have ne’er known of a man who could cover his tracks so well. My most skilled tracker couldnae find the trail.”

“Mmm…’tis difficult to say, but we donna know what the MacLeods do on that savage isle. And ye say naught has happened since your wife has remained inside the walls of the castle?”

Alex nodded in response.

MacGregor had a look of concentration on his face. “My men are verra skilled. I will send a few of them out with your men to scout. Mayhap they can pick up something.”

“Thank ye.”

“Donna worry, MacDonell.” MacGregor gave a brief nod. “Ye helped save my wife. I will help to save yours. Rosalia will be cross with ye for stealing me away for so long.” He stood and downed the rest of his drink. “Come. Let us find our women.”

Alex walked with the MacGregor to the great hall where the women were gathered around Aunt Iseabail at the table. Rosalia’s eyes lit up when she spotted her husband. When Alex offered Sybella a smile, her eyes darkened and she quickly lowered her gaze.

MacGregor placed his hand on Rosalia’s shoulder and bent to kiss her on the top of the head. “Wife.” He turned and kissed Aunt Iseabail on the cheek. “’Tis wonderful to see ye again, my lady.”

Aunt Iseabail smiled. “Your husband hasnae changed. He is still a verra fine looking man, Rosalia.”

MacGregor’s face reddened slightly.

Rosalia stood up from the bench and embraced Alex. “Cousin, marriage suits ye. Ye look well,” she said with a grin.

Alex raised a brow. “I could say the same for ye, Rosalia. And this young lad must be Lachlann. Congratulations to ye both.” He ruffled the bairn’s hair and was rewarded with a smile. Alex stood behind Sybella and placed his hand on her shoulder. He didn’t miss how she tensed under his fingertips and then abruptly stood. “And this is my wife, Lady Sybella MacDonell.”

“’Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Laird MacGregor. My husband speaks of ye highly.”

“Please call me Ciaran.”

“Verra well. I am Sybella. Ye have journeyed far. Please sit and I will get ye something to drink.”

“Nephew, did ye see their strapping young bairn? How much longer do ye think it will be before ye have one of your own? I am nae getting any younger, ye know.”

Alex shook his head. Rosalia giggled, MacGregor smirked, and Sybella paled. “Give it time, Aunt. Ye cannae schedule such things.”