Debbie Mazzuca - Lord of the Isles

“Aileanna?”

She put up a hand and shook her head.

Rory ignored her request and reached for her. “Aileanna, what were you doin’? Are you hurt?”

Beneath his hand her shoulder stiffened. She took a step away, then turned. Violet eyes looked up at him. “I’m doing as your bride-to-be demanded. I was going to take the gowns, and then I realized they’re not mine to take—

nothing is.” She looked at the candle beside the bed and blinked her eyes.

“Aileanna.” He brushed his knuckles along her cheek.

LORD OF THE ISLES

129

“Don’t . . . don’t touch me,” she cried out in a strangled voice. “Please, don’t.”

Rory dropped his hand. “The gowns are yers. Anythin’

you want from this room is yers.” He took a deep breath.

“But ’tis best you take another room, Aileanna. I wil na’

have yer reputation besmirched. I hadna’ considered the consequences, and I should have.”

“I’m sure it is for the best, and of course you wouldn’t want to jeopardize the match with the MacLeans.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I have no’ made up my mind on the matter, Aileanna. No’ yet.”

“But in the end we both know what you’l do, Rory. You always do what’s best for the clan, and so you should.” She knelt on the floor and gathered the gowns to her chest before she rose unsteadily to her feet. With her head held high she left the room.

Chapter 11

Anger overrode her humiliation as Ali watched the young mother hurry into the cottage, her sickly infant clutched to her chest. “I don’t understand why she won’t let me look at the baby, Cal um. I’m sure I could find some way to help him.” She glanced back at the blond man who shadowed her as she went unsuccessful y from one cottage to the next, checking on those Mrs. Mac had asked her to look in on. Not one of them had al owed her anywhere near them. You would think she carried the plague.

Her childhood insecurities resurfaced. Feelings of being unwanted, of not belonging, taunted her. She thought she’d overcome them, put them behind her, but coming to Dunve

gan had forced her to contend with them once more. Her hard-won armor was slipping, al owing the pointed barbs to pierce her self-confidence and a heart battered more times than she cared to remember. Cal um appeared sympathetic. “’Twil take time is al , Lady Aileanna.”

“That baby may not have time.” She took his hand as he helped her over a fal en log. “Does this have anything to do with the priest?”

132

Debbie Mazzuca

“Nay, ’tis on account they doona’ ken ye, and mayhap—”

He hesitated, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

“Cal um, I’m sure whatever you say can’t hurt my feel

ings anymore than they already have been.” Good Lord, why did I feel the need to blurt that out?

He looked toward Dunvegan. Only the tower remained visible above the soaring pines. “In the hal this morn Lady MacLean questioned yer loyalties. She said as how ye were a spy sent by the MacDonald to turn the men’s heads, gettin’ them to spil their plans with yer bonny looks. Her voice carried loud enough fer al to hear.”

Ali cursed under her breath. She should have gone down to breakfast instead of putting her new rooms to right. At least she could have defended herself. Then again, she would have had to face Rory and Moira MacLean. And if she was honest, Ali would admit that was the real reason she’d stayed to putter in her chambers.

“But Ro—Lord MacLeod must have come to my de

fense. He knows—”

Cal um interrupted her. “’Twas Fergus and Iain who sought to protect ye, my lady. I thought they did a fair job mind ye, but it seems some of the clan chose to believe Lady Moira.” He shrugged apologetical y.

“I’m thankful they at least tried.” Fergus and Iain—but not Rory. He actual y thought she was a spy, out to harm his beloved clan. Despite the heat, she shivered. “What about you, Cal um—do you think I’m a spy?”

“Nay, my lady, yer speech and ways are a mite strange, but I doona’ think ye’d bring us harm,” he said with a gentle look on his face.

She tilted her head to look up at him. “Is that why you accompany me instead of Connor?”

“Aye, Lord MacLeod was concerned fer yer safety after Lady Moira’s—”

“If he was so concerned with my safety, why didn’t he

LORD OF THE ISLES

133

defend me?” Her anger flared as she pictured Rory sitting silently by while his betrothed maligned her character to everyone gathered in the hal .

Cal um winced. “Lady MacLean was verra upset that ye meant to bring harm to the laird and he was busy comfortin’

her.”

Ali snorted. “I’m sure he was.”

“But doona’ fear, my lady, Fergus wil na’ al ow anyone to speak against ye in his presence.” The big man smiled.

“He’s verra protective of ye, as is the laird’s brother.”

“That’s something to be thankful for at least.” Her head jerked up at the sound of a sharp crack and the rustle of branches. Cal um shoved her behind him and drew his sword.

Peering around his bulky frame, Ali scanned the cluster of trees. If that little witch got her kil ed because of her stupid accusations, she’d make her life hel . And how are you going to do that? the voice in her head snorted. You’ll be dead.

“ Oh, be quiet,” Ali muttered.

“Shh, my lady,” Cal um admonished, his eyes fixed on their surroundings.

“There’s nothing out there,” she whispered, just as a streak of brown darted amongst the pines.

“Halt,” her protector growled. “Show yerself.”

Out from behind a tree stepped the young boy who’d stood up for Ali and Mari the other day in the hal . “What are ye doin’ so far from home, Jamie Cameron?” Cal um resheathed his sword; the tension in his stance eased.

“I’m goin’ to the glen to train with the laird.”

“I doona’ think so, laddie. Yer mother wil na’ be al owin’ that, I’m certain.”

Ali heard the rumble of laughter in the big man’s words as she stepped from behind him.

“I doona’ care.” With his bottom lip thrust out, the 134

Debbie Mazzuca

young boy began to march in the direction from where they’d come.

For a man his size, Cal um was quick. He had Jamie by the col ar before he’d ventured more than a foot. “Aye, ye wil . I ken yer mother wel , laddie, and if she catches ye anywhere near the glen, she’l tan yer hide.”

Jamie glared at Cal um, a mutinous expression on his freckled face.

“Save yer wee looks. They’l do no good on me. Now, come with me and Lady Aileanna. I’l see ye home.” Cal um nudged him onto the trail ahead of them. The boy grumbled, kicking at any stone that happened to be in his way.

“How is it ye got away from yer mother in the first place?

I hear she’s been keepin’ a tight rein on ye these days.”

The boy shrugged. “She’s helpin’ in the kitchens. They’re busy preparin’ fer the big feast Lady MacLean has or dered.”

“I imagine they’l be needin’ extra hands. ’Twil be as hot as Hades in the kitchens this day.” Cal um shook his head, muttering under his breath.

“I don’t suggest you kick that one, Jamie. You’l break your toe,” Ali advised absently as the boy drew back his foot to strike a rock the size of a watermelon. “Is there a special reason for the feast, Cal um?” Ali asked, keeping her voice as casual as she could despite the tension build

ing inside her.

“The MacLeans are expectin’ some of their kin to arrive at Dunvegan this day. ’Tis said they’re bringin’ word of the adventurers, but I’m thinkin’ there’s more to it than that.”