Chapter 15
15
Lachlan’s blue-green eyes were dark with fury, and he felt as if he might explode with it as he stared at the jewel in his hands, then into the dark grey eyes of the woman he had come to care about so much.
She had deceived him, and he, like the utter fool that he was, had allowed himself to be seduced by a pretty face and a beautiful body. Suddenly, he saw how cruelly she had used him, and how easily he had fallen into her trap.
Not only was he full of rage, but he was infinitely disappointed and deeply hurt. What had he done to deserve this? He had taken Jeannie Dunbar into his home, fed her, clothed her, sheltered her and given her a way to support herself, and this was how she repaid him!
“Was this your whole purpose in coming here?” he asked, his voice throbbing with rage as he held up the pendant. “Was this what you wanted all along?”
Lachlan watched as she stared at the ground for a moment as if trying to collect herself, then she pulled herself together and reached out for the pendant, but he swung it away out of her reach.
“Yes, but please let me explain,” Alyth begged. “This is not the way it seems. I can see what you think, but I swear to you, I meant no harm to you, Davina or anyone else.”
“You can see what I think?” He sneered. “So you are a mind reader now? Do not presume to know me! You realise that at this moment I could call my guards to come and drag you to the dungeons? They could kill you, or I could kill you myself.”
He raised his large right hand and flexed the fingers, looking at her neck, watching her eyes darken with fear.
“Your name is not Jeannie Dunbar, is it?” Lachlan asked, frowning deeply. “You are not a ladies’ maid, or any other kind of maid, for that matter. Tell me your real name.”
“I am Alyth MacAdams,” Alyth replied resignedly with a deep sigh. “And yes, I have been lying to you all along, but I meant no one any harm. I would have left as soon as I found the pendant, and that’s what I was doing. You have to believe me, Lachlan. I meant no harm to anyone.”
Lachlan had thought himself immune to the wiles of the female sex, but now he felt himself beginning to soften. She looked so vulnerable, still half-lying underneath him on the straw, that he almost yielded to her, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again. Even now, his weak man’s body, driven by his most primal instincts, was responding to her again.
Almost, but not quite. He reminded himself that this woman was not what she seemed at all. She was not helpless, could handle herself in battle as well as any man, and she had completely defeated him in bed, reducing him to nothing more than her slave. He had been utterly besotted by her—but no more.
“My god,” he said, shaking his head. “How you must have been laughing at me!”
“No!” Alyth cried. “I never laughed at you, Lachlan, and I never will.”
His lip curled in disdain as he looked down at her. “I have to give you credit, Alyth ,” he said. “You had me almost twisted around your little finger. You lied to me, seduced me, played me like a puppet on a string. I would have done anything for you.” He shook his head. “But now that I see through your little scheme, all of that is over. There will be no more seduction, no more games. I see you now for what you are—a fraud, and a creature who will use any means to achieve her ends.” His face took on a look of disgust. “You repulse me!”
However, just as Lachlan thought he had thoroughly intimidated her, Alyth retaliated. “I have nothing to do with your clan’s power games,” she snapped. “All I wanted was to recover my mother’s pendant because it is all I have left of her!” She sat up to look him in the eye so suddenly that Lachlan almost fell over.
“I am a victim too, just like you, your wife, Davina, my mother, my father.” She paused for breath. “Do you not see? We are all victims because war has no favourites. It doesn’t matter who is killed!”
They sat staring at each other for a long moment until it became a contest of wills. Alyth looked away first, and Lachlan felt a surge of triumph; now he had her right where he wanted her. He took her by the chin and forced her to look at him again.
“What took you so long?” he demanded.
“I only found it yesterday,” Alyth replied, puzzled.
“Oh, dear.” Lachlan laughed again. “You are so funny. You are very entertaining—it’s a real talent. Yesterday, you say?” Lachlan felt anger begin to boil up inside him again. “Now, why do I find that so hard to believe?”
He stared at Alyth and felt the urge to shake her hard, but he had never harmed a woman in his life and he knew he would not do so now. “So why did it take you so long to find it? Were you waiting for Davina to do it for you? Did you train her to speak to you?”
This was such a ludicrous question that Alyth almost laughed out loud. “I don’t know why she talks to me,” she replied. “But I am glad for her—and for you because it is good to see her opening up. I wish I could be here when she really does learn to talk properly. She will blossom, Lachlan. She will take up singing—I know she will. She will recite poetry and write stories of her own. She is like a bud waiting to flower. I-I feel it. And she will be a beauty. She will be as lovely as you are handsome, and you will be so proud of her.”
“I’m already proud of her,” Lachlan said angrily. “Tell me, Alyth, why did you not give up? Why were you so determined? Did you want to torture me? Did you want revenge for your mother’s death?” He paused, then asked in a voice that was throbbing with rage, “Did your father send you to spy on us?”
“No!” Alyth refused passionately. “He had no idea. I told you I needed to have that little piece of my mother back.” Alyth’s eyes filled with tears of frustration as she tried to make him understand how she felt. “Would you not try to recover something of your wife’s if it were lost?”
Lachlan was not moved. He laughed heartily as he saw Alyth weeping, despising her even more.
“Ah, tears,” he mused. “The ultimate woman’s weapon. You can save them for someone whose heart is not as hard as mine, Alyth MacAdams, because they have no effect on me!”
This was a lie. Alyth’s tears were certainly having an effect, although not the one she wanted. They were making Lachlan angrier than ever.
“Leave my wife out of this—you know nothing about her. She was the noblest woman I know, someone who sacrificed her life to save her child’s, and it was your family who murdered her!” He poked a forefinger into her chest for emphasis. “Would you do such a thing for your child?”
Alyth hesitated, and Lachlan took it as a no.
“I thought not,” he sneered. “Why are you really here? Tell me the truth, now, before I become really angry!”
Alyth looked up at his face, which had become so dear to her that she could not bear to see it so distorted with rage. She shook her head and put her face in her hands, weeping even harder than before, and for a moment Lachlan felt a pang of sympathy before he hardened his heart again.
He would not be swayed by these crocodile tears, he resolved. He had always prided himself on being a good judge of character, but he had to hand it to Alyth MacAdams. She was a very good actress, and she had completely manipulated him into doing her will with her beauty, her intelligence, and last but not least, the charms of her body. Lachlan cursed himself for being so stupid.
Alyth gradually began to calm down, but when she met his eyes again, tears were still running down her face.
“I told you that I wanted to find the pendant and go on my way at once,” she said sadly. “Davina gave me the pendant—she must have found it on her own—and when I told her I had to go, she begged me to stay. I thought about it for a long time because I knew how hurt she would be, and I knew how much I would miss her, but I had to go in the end.”
“So you thought you would sneak out in the middle of the night and let her find out in the morning?” he asked disgustedly. “Did you even think about how that would make her feel? No? Because you are a typical MacAdams, with no concern for anyone but yourself!”
Alyth shook her head vehemently. “No,” she cried. “I do care—very much, Lachlan.” She raised herself to kneel beside him and gripped his arms. “I wanted to stay and tell you everything, but I knew that you and Davina would be better off without me. And I stayed because I fell in love with you, and that made it almost impossible for me to leave. I think you feel the same about me, do you not?”
Lachlan looked at her in horror and disbelief. “Are you mad, woman?” he demanded. “Love you? I despise you with every fibre of my being!” He stood up and pulled Alyth to her feet, then reached down to pick up her clothes, which he thrust into her hands.
“Get dressed, and leave, and if I ever see you again on my land I will personally escort you to the dungeons. As well as that, I will attack your family too and make sure that the peace lasts this time because there will be none of them left!”
He turned to leave, but Alyth grabbed his arm and he whipped around to face her, frowning at her fiercely.
“Lachlan, please—” she began, but he shook himself free.
“It is ‘M’Laird’ to you, Alyth MacAdams.” His voice was thunderous as he pulled on his breeches. “The only word I want to hear from you now is ‘goodbye’.”
He opened the door and stepped outside. The morning air was bitterly cold, but he hardly noticed it; all he wanted to do was distract himself to stop himself thinking about Alyth.
He could, of course, drink himself into a stupor, but that was a coward’s way out, and he would only feel worse for it later. No. Today there were rents to collect, tenants to see, problems to solve. He had better things to do than waste his time thinking about an enemy, no matter how beautiful she was.
Alyth took the Robertson guards’ horse and rode swiftly out of Leithmuir Castle without looking back. The guards were rather startled to see her go; they had never seen her riding a horse before.
Just before they opened the gate, Gavin Ballantyne stepped forward. “Jeannie!” he said, looking astonished. “Where are ye goin’?”
Alyth stared at him sadly, and tears sprang to her eyes again. “My name is not Jeannie, Captain,” she replied. “I am not who I said I was. Ask the Laird, he can tell you everything, and please say goodbye to everyone for me. I am sorry to be leaving you, but I’m afraid I have no choice. Goodbye.”
Gavin opened his mouth to ask another question, but he never got the chance. Alyth urged the horse into a trot, then, as soon as they were over the drawbridge, a canter. Gavin stood looking after her, baffled, and resolved to speak to Lachlan as soon as he got the chance; his instincts told him that something was not right.
Alyth did not intend to rush and tire out both the mare and herself, so she kept to a reasonable pace. Where possible, she tried to stay under the cover of the trees, but this was not easy, since the Highlands were not heavily forested. When coming out from undercover, she always scanned the land around her for bandits, but this was difficult, due to the hills and the rocks which impeded her view. The Highlands were lovely, but their ruggedness had many disadvantages. It was certainly not the romantic place many people thought it was.
However, she was armed with a broadsword, a dagger, and a small but lethal crossbow. As well as that, her intuition was so finely tuned that she could sense the presence of an enemy by the prickling of her skin.
While she was riding, she thought of Davina and Lachlan, and found herself weeping again. She could picture Davina’s little face clouded with disappointment when she realised that she was never going to see her Jeannie again. Lachlan would have to hold her and tell her that everything would be fine, that he was sure she would see her again at some future time.
Alyth visualised Lachlan having to read Davina’s stories himself, and imagined the bitterness and anger he would feel towards her. Why had she fallen in love with him, her sworn enemy? What if she had provoked him so much that he started another war with her father?
She began to weep again, unsure of whether she would be able to bear the guilt and the shame of knowing that it was all her fault.
Alyth was so engrossed in her misery that her usual finely honed instincts did not alert her as they usually did, and before she had a chance to react she found herself surrounded by a party of five horsemen in the livery of the Robertson Clan.
Almost without thinking, she drew her broadsword and slashed at the nearest rider, knocking him off his horse, which reared up and trampled on him.
Alyth hardly had a chance to look around before she found the point of a stiletto at her throat. It was an uncommon weapon, and the man wielding it was dark and appeared foreign. Perhaps Laird Robertson was now recruiting guards from far away—was he so desperate?
She was still gripping her sword, but realised that one false move could cost her her life; all it would take was a tiny thrust from the needle-like weapon the soldier in front of her was holding.
She was completely outnumbered, and the Robertson men had grasped the advantage of surprise with alacrity, rendering her helpless. Alyth was forced to lower her sword and was quickly disarmed by the cool, professional soldiers.
Desperately, she looked back to see if there was any help coming from Lachlan at Leithmuir, but of course, there was none. She was not visible from the castle any more, and even if she had been, Alyth doubted he would have interfered anyway. Why should he risk his men’s lives to save an enemy? It might have started another war, and that was the last thing he wanted.
Alyth looked into the face of the senior officer, who had piercing, pale blue eyes that gave her the impression that he was made of ice. He whipped the sword out of her hand and held it up in front of him to study it before giving it to one of the other men.
“Good blade,” he said, before turning back to Alyth. “Give me your name.”
The question was phrased as a demand, and was utterly disrespectful, but she was in no position to protest. “Alyth MacAdams,” she replied, looking the man up and down scornfully, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin to look down her nose at him.
“I thought so.” The man gave her a thin, evil-looking smile. “It is a very good thing for you that I have orders tae take ye alive an’ unharmed, Mistress, for ye have caused our Laird a lot o’ grief.”
Alyth felt enormously relieved at this news, but she was also terrified. She was going back to Laird Robertson, but what did he intend to do with her? She knew the answer to that, of course. He would marry her, even if he had to drag her into the church kicking and screaming.
If that is his intention, she thought, then he has a fight on his hands because I would rather be dead than have to see that monster every day!
She thought of Lachlan again. Was it only a few hours ago that they had been tangled in passion? Already it seemed so far away, and now she was riding to a fate that was probably going to be worse than death.