Chapter 35
“You’re certain?” Isolde stared at her friend.
The wall torch nearest the door had nearly extinguished, but flickered enough to cast a faint glow over Evelina’s face. And what Isolde saw there chilled her.
Evelina had never looked more worried.
“There can be no doubt, my lady.” Evelina pushed back the hood of her cloak to peer down the shadowy passage, empty and dark at this early hour.
With the MacLean returned to his cell, even Rory and Niels had taken themselves elsewhere. Like as not, they now slept peacefully on their pallets outside the entrance to the dungeons.
Isolde’s stomach knotted. “I will think of something.”
“I am so sorry.” Evelina sounded miserable. “I wish I had better tidings.”
“There’s no chance the ship belongs to someone else?”
“The approaching galley bears MacArthur’s banner.” The answer dashed Isolde’s last hope. “He is so near, and coming fast. The wind is with him.”
“I never dreamed he’d do this.” Isolde pressed a hand over her flat abdomen, tried to still the dread churning there.
“It is too soon,” she said, her heart sinking. “There hasn’t been time…” She let the words tail off, her eyes filling.
Dear heavens, she couldn’t abide tears.
Now…
“All may not be lost, but you must be wary. A journey worth taking is often most difficult near its end.” Evelina took her hand, gave it a squeeze. “The elders gather already,” she added with another glance over her shoulder. “They are in the hall, waiting for Balloch.”
“Of course.” Isolde felt near to breaking, willed her heart to stop thumping so hard. “They will be furious.”
“You must stand against them.” Evelina gripped her shoulders. “Above all, hold firm when he arrives. He will be in a rage, thinking you are-”
“How I wish I was.” Isolde couldn’t bear the pity on Evelina’s face. “But I am not yet with child. All I am is...” She paused to swipe at a rolling tear. “I have fallen in love with the MacLean.”
“I know.” Evelina’s own eyes glistened. “My dear, dear heart.”
“I cannot lose him.”
“You won’t.” Evelina touched her face. “I promise. The gods would not be so cruel.”
“I sometimes think they have abandoned me.”
“Never, do not even think it.” Evelina gave her a gentle smile. “They must love you greatly.”
Isolde wasn’t so sure.
Evelina glanced aside, again searching the corridor’s shadows. “I must go, my lady. I’ve an old debt to repay.”
Isolde nodded, unable to speak past the lump swelling in her throat.
Her friend grabbed her, holding her tight. “May the gods be with you,” she said, releasing Isolde and then disappearing into the shadows.
“Wait…” Isolde started after her. “Come back, please…”
But Evelina was already gone, even her footsteps were now silent, swallowed by the passage’s gloom.
Isolde stared into the darkness, a terrible cold spreading through her.
Donall came awake the moment one of his lady’s guards began fumbling with the cell door’s drawbar. Despite his wish to drift back to sleep, he couldn’t help smiling at their repeated attempts to lift the heavy bar.
The louts must’ve spent the night deep in their cups.
Amused, he scooted up against the wall and folded his arms behind his head as he waited for them to enter the cell.
He’d then annoy them with a welcoming smile.
But when the door opened, an angel slipped inside.
An angel of death.
Garbed completely in black, a deep cowl concealing all but a shadowy glimpse of her night-black hair and beautiful face, the angel glided forward, her movements fluid, graceful, and full of stealth.
She stopped at the foot of his pallet. “Good sir, I can see why she loves you so,” she said, looking down at him, not a herald of death, but a lovely woman.
Donall sprang to his feet. “Who are you?”
“Someone who wants to help you.”
“An angel?” Donall reconsidered.
The beauty smiled. “Far from that.”
Donall returned her smile, liking her. “Who loves me?”
“Lady Isolde,” she confirmed his hope. “She is the reason I am here.”
“Has something happened to her?” Dread iced his blood. “Is she ill? Hurt?”
“She is fine.” The woman glanced at Gavin, still sleeping deeply. “I just spoke with her.”
“Praise the gods,” Donall thanked her, but was unable to keep his brows from lowering. The hairs on his nape stood on end, the chills streaking down his spine.
Something was wrong.
“What is this about?” He felt his pulse quicken, a tightness in his chest. “You did no’ come here to speak of Lady Isolde’s heart. Who are you?”
“I am her friend,” she said simply. “But she does not know I am here.” She glanced again at Gavin. “I’ve come to repay a debt.”
“A debt?” Donall waited, not missing how her face softened as she watched Gavin.
“I did not know he had a lady,” he said, more than a little surprised.
“Gavin MacFie and I are friends, nothing else.” She returned her attention to Donall, gave a little sigh. “His father and I were more. Both men have done much for me, and I would repay their friendship this day.”
She stood straighter, clasped her hands before her. “Laird MacLean, I mean to lead you from here, but we must hurry.”
“What the-” Gavin stirred, a smile spreading across his face when he spied the dark-haired angel. “Evelina! What are you doing here?”
Donall reached down and grabbed his friend’s arm, hauling him to his feet. “Lady Evelina is here to help us escape.”
“Lady?” Gavin blinked, looking between them.
“So I said.” Donall didn’t care for the ill ease that flickered in the beauty’s eyes, or Gavin’s seeming confusion.
“Ah, well.” Gavin shrugged, his smile returning. “Evelina.” He came forward to embrace her. “I have ne’er been more pleased to see you.”
“We must hurry.” She slipped from his arms and went to the door. “I can only accompany you part of the way,” she said, already stepping into the dimly lit corridor. “Then you will be on your own, but hopefully not for long.”
“Who will be joining us?” Donall wanted to know, but she’d already moved deeper into the passage.
“Who cares?” Gavin tossed Donall a grin and hurried after her down the murky, low-ceilinged corridor.
Donall stared after them from the cell’s threshold. When he didn’t join them, they came back.
Lady Evelina spoke first. “You serve her better by leaving,” she said, rightly guessing the reason for his hesitation. “She is strong. She will stand tall until you return for her.”
Donall frowned. “So she is in danger?”
“I pray not.” She grasped his hand, tried to tug him away from the cell. “But if she is, my lord, then the need for you to gather your men is all the more dire.”
“Speak plain, lady.” Donall pulled his hand from hers. He folded his arms and braced his legs apart. “What is this about?”
“There isn’t time.” She glanced up and down the passage, looking worried. “You must go now.”
Donall didn’t budge. “No’ until I hear why my men are needed.”
Gavin muttered under his breath as he closed and barred the cell door.
Ignoring him, Donall kept his attention on Evelina. “Tell me, lady, or I shall stand here until I grow roots.”
Evelina pushed back her cowl and ran a hand through her dark, unbound tresses.
“Sir…” She cast another glance over her shoulder. “All is not as it seems here. If you fetch your warriors, you can set things right - if need be.”
Donall shook his head. “If Lady Isolde is threatened, I will see to the matter here and now.”
Before she could argue, he turned and hurried off in the opposite direction, making for the stairs to the hall.
Gavin ran after him. “Come, Donall, you’re unarmed. What can we do without our swords? We dinnae even have dirks.”
“Since when do we need arms to face a parcel of doddering graybeards?” Donall kept on toward the hall stairs. “Sakes, we could topple the lot of them with one hot breath!”
Gavin grabbed his arm, halting him. “What of the red-haired giant and his sour-faced companion? Niels and Rory? They aren’t feeble and have plenty of steel hanging from their belts?”
“We’ve both fought men twice their size with nothing but our fists.” He glared at Gavin. “When did you turn coward?”
“Perhaps about the same time you lost your good sense.”
Donall lunged at him. “This is about my lady’s safety,” he snarled, hauling Gavin up by the front of his tunic. “What is senseless in that?”
“Stop, both of you!” Evelina rushed between them.
Donall swore, and thrust Gavin aside.
Brushing at his tunic, Gavin smiled at Evelina. “Love brings out the best in a MacLean,” he said. “Their temper.”
Donall scowled at him. “I say we stay.” Turning to Evelina, he said, “Now tell me why you are troubled.”
“A ship will soon land here,” she said, a guarded look entering her eyes. “I cannot reveal why, for doing so would break my lady’s trust. But I can say that I fear for her safety once those onboard make their tidings known.”
Donall glanced at Gavin. “All the more reason we cannae leave.” He turned back to Evelina. “You know who is aboard this ship?”
She nodded. “Balloch MacArthur,” she said. “The man her clan elder’s would see her wed.”
“Ye gods!” Gavin’s eyes rounded.
“She’s betrothed?” The words tasted like dirt on Donall’s tongue. “To MacArthur?”
“Nae, my lord.” Evelina glanced at the nearby stair tower, lowering her voice. “She is to be betrothed to him, or was.”
Donall folded his arms. “Which is it?”
Evelina lowered her head.
“Lady.” Donall tipped her face to his. “I admire your daring. Dinnae disappoint me now. What is with MacArthur? What tidings can he bring that could cause such grief?”
Evelina’s brows drew together. “He is surely coming to break the betrothal agreement because…”
“Go on,” Donall urged when she hesitated.
“My lady sent him word she carries another man’s child,” Evelina said in a rush. “Yours, sir. Or so she hopes.”
Donall stared at her. Shock and triumph whipped through him. “Why did she send such tidings?”