* * *

Sybella wanted to tell Alex everything—how she was stupid enough to let her conniving father and brother convince her to search for the stone, how her marriage was all a bittersweet scheme to plot revenge, and how much she truly loved him. But until she got rid of that damned rock, she had to hold back. Nothing was for certain, and she couldn’t afford to take the chance.

As she sat next to Alex and Rosalia for the eve meal, she forced her eyes not to look at the MacDonell crest on the floor. For if she did, she was afraid her actions would betray her purpose.

“What are ye making for Anabel?” asked Rosalia.

“I am stitching a scarf. And I must admit, I am nae verra good at it.”

Rosalia giggled. “Aye, I know the feeling all too well.”

Ciaran leaned forward. “My wife isnae allowed to stitch my tunics. Howbeit she borrows them often.” When his eyes darkened and he kissed Rosalia, Sybella turned her head.

“How was your walk to the loch, Aunt Iseabail?” asked Sybella.

“It was verra lovely even though Lachlann slept most of the time.”

“And he would’ve stayed that way, but ye kept poking at him, Seanmhair.”

Aunt Iseabail waved her finger at Rosalia. “A grandson needs to spend time with his grandmother. Ye see him all the time. He can sleep on your watch.”

Ciaran bent his head forward. “Aye, well, when he doesnae sleep this eve, we will be sure to take him to your chamber so ye can spend more time with him.”

“I think ye make up these tales of my Lachlann. He is always a good lad.”

Rosalia laughed as Alex leaned over Sybella, tapping Rosalia on the shoulder. “How did she fare?”

Rosalia shrugged. Lowering her voice, she said, “She was having a good day and kept up with the conversation. She even recalled that she wanted to tell ye something when we returned. Of course, she forgot specifically what she wanted to say, but at least she remembered that.”

“Good. I think it helps when she walks and her mind is occupied with something. Thank ye, Cousin.”

Sybella tapped Alex’s thigh. “It seems Aunt Iseabail is having a good day.”

He smiled. “Having Rosalia and Lachlann here helps to keep my aunt’s mind busy. I think if Aunt Iseabail sits idle, her condition tends to worsen. And the fact that the woman gives Lachlann her attention directs her thoughts away from us.”

She raised her brow. “What do ye mean?”

“The fact that ye arenae with child.”

Sybella lowered her lashes, her husband’s comment leaving her with an inexplicable feeling of emptiness. She wasn’t sure exactly why, but she was somewhat saddened. Although under the current circumstances, bringing a bairn into this world was probably not the best of ideas. She felt trapped in her own lie.

She turned her head and studied Ciaran and Rosalia. Their love for each other was quite obvious. Seeing the two of them with Lachlann only further confirmed what she already knew. Instinctively, Sybella’s hand went to her stomach. When the time was right, she could only imagine how Alex would react when they were blessed with such a precious gift.

After finishing their meal, Aunt Iseabail wanted to take a walk in the garden, and Sybella couldn’t turn down another request. As Ciaran stood and pulled Lachlann from Rosalia’s arms, Sybella watched the loving family walk out of the great hall while she waited for Alex and Aunt Iseabail.

She found herself standing on the clan crest. She looked down and discreetly ran her foot over the seeing stone. It did not come as a surprise when the rock did not budge. Nothing could ever be easy. She would have to get a chisel to get the damn thing out.

* * *

Alex pulled out Aunt Iseabail’s chair and helped her to her feet. He looked up as Sybella waited, gracing him with a smile. At least his wife wasn’t turning down another opportunity to be with his family.

Aunt Iseabail took his arm, stepping down from the dais, and Alex almost stumbled when his aunt froze midstep. His arms supported her, but the woman merely stared at Sybella, who stood brushing her foot back and forth against the stone floor.

“Aunt Iseabail?”

After a long pause, his aunt finally turned to him. Her eyes displayed a liveliness that he hadn’t seen there for quite some time. “I must speak with ye alone with much haste, Nephew.” And with that, she turned on her heel and ambled toward his study.

“Ella, I will meet ye in the garden.”

Sybella’s eyes were gentle, understanding. “Are ye sure?”

“Aye.”

Alex followed Aunt Iseabail into his study. She walked over to the chair and then, as if she had a second thought not to sit, started to pace. Her behavior started to unnerve him.

She gestured toward the door. “Close it.”

“What is this about? What is wrong?” He shut the door and walked over to her, taking her arm. “Please sit, Aunt.”

She wiggled her way out of his hold. “Alexander, please stop forcing me to sit. Will ye listen? I must tell ye something.”

He sat down on the edge of the desk. “What is it?”

“The stone. Ye asked me about a stone.”

He became instantly wide awake. “Aye, I did. Do ye remember?”

“Seeing Sybella made me…” Aunt Iseabail shook her head. “Dòmhnall could ne’er understand how the MacKenzie got away with things. The man always seemed to know to steal from our clan when it hurt the most—before the winter or before the harvest. My brother thought mayhap it was purely dumb luck, but several years ago, Dòmhnall heard tales from…I think it was a MacLeod that the MacKenzie had a seer in his clan. Ye know our family struggled to survive, sometimes barely able to make ends meet. Howbeit the MacKenzies were always blessed with good fortune. Do ye nae find that odd, Nephew? Dòmhnall believed it was the result of the seer.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “A seer? Ye donna need a seer to know when ’tis best to raid and plunder from a clan. I have ne’er known Father to embrace such tales. Tell me more about this stone.”

She waved her hand at him. “Silence, Alexander.”

He folded his arms over his chest while Aunt Iseabail continued to speak.

“I think one of the MacKenzie maids ran away and married a MacLeod, but I cannae remember all of it. At any rate, this seer could only foretell when he held a particular stone.”

“Aunt Iseabail, I’m sure ’tis only a story to tell the wee bairns at night. Surely ye donna believe this. Granted, we live in the Highlands and I have certainly seen things that I cannae explain. But to have me believe there is a stone which this seer uses to foretell the future is—”

“God’s teeth, lad, but ye are impatient,” she bit out. “Ye remind me much of your father. Dòmhnall told me years ago when we burnt down the MacKenzie’s church that he found the stone. This relic was of such importance to the MacKenzie clan that my brother trusted nay one. I was the only person he told and we spoke of it once.”

“All right. Where is this stone and what does it look like?”

She made a circle with her hands. “’Tis of a brownish color, about this big, and has a hole in the center.”

“Did Father give it to ye? Where is it?”

“Placed into the eye of the Rock of the Raven.” When Alex raised his brow, she quickly added, “Under your feet in the great hall, Nephew.” She finally sat down in the chair. “When I saw your wife running her foot over the eye of the raven, I remembered that was what Dòmhnall meant in his letter to ye. And the way your bonny wife studied the raven, it seems she has discovered her clan’s stone.”

For the first time in his life, Alex could say that he was rendered speechless. Aunt Iseabail was right about one thing: his father had never mentioned the fact that he held this seeing stone of the MacKenzies. And leave it to his sire to place the damn rock in the middle of the great hall, no less. Alex shook his head at his father’s arrogance. Then again, his father had more than likely never expected Alex to wed a MacKenzie.

He suddenly had another disturbing thought. If the tale Aunt Iseabail spoke was true, the stone was something the MacKenzie would not easily forget. What better way for a MacKenzie to recover the stone than by offering the hand of his daughter to Alex.

He quickly shook off the thought as ice spread through his veins. He tried to think clearly, not permitting his emotions to rule. He refused to race to conclusions until he spoke with Sybella.

“Thank ye, Aunt. I would ask that ye donna mention this to anyone, especially Rosalia or Sybella.”

Her eyes widened. “I may be old, but I am nae a daft fool, Nephew.” She rose. “I know Dòmhnall risked discovery by taking the stone. I leave it to ye to make certain it stays where it belongs.”

He nodded. “I will take care of it. Can ye see yourself to the garden?”

“Alexander…”

He waved her off. “Of course ye can.”

Alex sat down behind his father’s desk and poured himself a drink. He could not stop himself from pondering and wanted to put all of the pieces together. Did Sybella know? The question continued to hammer at him. Perhaps she didn’t. He could not simply ignore how gentle and loving his wife was. She was everything the MacKenzie clan was not. And he was proud to call her wife.

A thought froze in his mind.

Even thinking about the idea killed him. But what if Sybella did know of the stone? The harder Alex tried to ignore the truth, the more it persisted. He downed the rest of his drink, realizing these wild ideas were driving him mad. He’d told Sybella repeatedly that he wanted nothing but honesty between them.