CHAPTER 14 #2
“That was an accident.” His voice was filled with regret. “I never meant to harm him. He had been drinking too much that night and he fell.”
“Liar!” she spat, still backing away. “You wanted him to give you the stone, and when he refused, you fought with him and killed him. And then you blamed the murder on me, knowing full well that no one in the clan would rise to my defense.”
“No, Gwendolyn, you’re wrong. I tried to tell the clan it had been an accident, but they wouldn’t listen—I even argued with my brother over it. But everyone in the clan wanted you dead, and there was nothing I could do to stop them.”
She shook her head. “You told me when I was imprisoned that you could make the clan spare my life if I would only tell you where this stone was hidden. When I refused, you left me to die!”
“I had fallen victim to the stone’s legendary power,” he explained, apologetic. “That is what made me act in such an unfathomable way. But I never wanted to see you come to harm, Gwendolyn,” he insisted, still easing toward her. “You must believe me.”
“Stay away from me, Robert, or I’ll tell the stone to burn you to death!”
“Could you really do such a hideous thing, Gwendolyn?” he asked quietly. “Could you really stand there and watch me burn?”
“It is no more than you deserve!” she said, feeling her resolve eroding. “You were going to slaughter MacDunn’s entire clan, and cut off his head and give it to his son!”
“How can you believe I am capable of such a heinous act?” he asked, sounding wounded.
“I said that because I wanted you to come to me. It was an idle threat, Gwendolyn, nothing more. Look at me.” Once again he was closing the distance between them.
“Can you honestly believe I am this terrible monster you have painted?”
Tears blurred her eyes, softening his appearance.
He looked utterly defeated, with his burned hair curling in ragged wisps around his dirt-smudged face, and a solemn expression that was filled with remorse.
She almost believed he was telling the truth, or at least some portion of what he believed the truth to be.
If she didn’t kill him he would kill her, she reminded herself desperately, taking another step backward.
She had to do it. And yet she hesitated, profoundly torn by the thought of bringing this man’s life to an end when he was pleading with her for compassion.
She stepped back again, colliding abruptly with a standing stone.
Robert instantly leaped forward and wrenched the jewel from her.
“At last,” he breathed, staring lasciviously at the glittering gem, “you are finally mine.”
“No!” Gwendolyn gasped, trying to grab it from him.
Robert struck her hard against the face with the back of his hand. She cried out as she went flying to the ground.
Swirls of pain clouded her head, and a warm, metallic taste seeped onto her tongue.
Gwendolyn touched the corner of her mouth, then stared numbly at the blood wetting her fingers.
Slowly she raised her eyes to him. Gone was the soulful remorse that she had imagined seeing in him but a moment earlier.
The man who glared down at her now was the Robert she knew: cruel, avaricious, and utterly ruthless.
“Surprised?” he drawled. “Poor Gwendolyn. Did you actually think I could be the simpering idiot I was pretending to be?”
“I thought even you might have some fragment of morality buried deep within your blackened soul,” she replied, shaken. “I was wrong.”
“So you were,” he agreed, amused. “But do not despair. In another moment I shall be king of Scotland, and then I will put you out of your misery.” He braced his legs apart and lifted the stone reverently toward the roiling sky.
“I, Robert of Clan MacSween, command you to make me the most powerful king and mightiest ruler of Scotland, invincible to all!”
A blinding sheet of lightning painted the sky white, followed by a deafening explosion of thunder.
Gwendolyn slowly rose and stared at Robert.
He stood with his arms outstretched and his eyes closed, the jewel gripped tightly in one hand as he waited for his transformation to finish.
It was over, she realized, overwhelmed by the magnitude of her failure.
Not only was Robert king, but he had wished for invincibility as well.
No one could stop him now. A sob rose from the back of her throat.
“Good Lord, such a blast!” sang out a cheerful voice through the darkness. “That was truly marvelous, I tell you. I expect my ears will be ringing for days.”
No, thought Gwendolyn as horror surged through her. Please God, don’t let him be here.
A lone rider was casually weaving his way through the standing stones, moving at such a leisurely pace one might think he was out for a pleasure ride.
His ghostly silhouette was tall and broad, and the powerful horse he rode moved with a deliberately controlled stride, as if the beast were in no greater hurry than his master.
A bright shaft of moonlight pierced the darkness as the warrior drew forward, turning his hair to gold and lighting every magnificent detail of him, from the insouciant expression on his handsome face to the relaxed stature of his enormous body.
MacDunn had come here alone, Gwendolyn realized, no doubt believing he would fight Robert on fair and equal terms. It was of no consequence whether madness or foolish na?veté had caused him to behave in such a reckless manner. The conclusion was inevitable.
MacDunn was about to die.
“Good evening, m’lady,” Alex said, offering her a courtly bow from his mount. “It is an absolutely splendid night, is it not? I must say, ever since that last storm of yours, I have grown inordinately fond of thunder.”
Gwendolyn stared at him, speechless, her eyes filled with tears. No warning could protect him from Robert’s newly acquired invincibility. Nor could she tell him in these final moments that she loved him, for fear that Robert might take pleasure in torturing MacDunn to further torment her.
“What a pleasant surprise, MacDunn,” sneered Robert.
“For a moment I actually feared I was going to have to ride all the way back to your holding to kill you. This is far more convenient—although rest assured, I do intend to return and slaughter everyone in your clan, down to the last squalling babe.”
“Good Lord, Robert,” Alex sputtered, “whatever have you done to your hair?”
Robert’s hand self-conciously flew to the ludicrously charred ends. “The witch did it,” he snarled, glaring at Gwendolyn. “And she will pay for it handsomely.”
Alex blinked. “But why would she cast a spell to make you look so thoroughly absurd?”
“She didn’t do it with a spell!” snapped Robert. “She did it with a torch. Now if we could proceed with the matter at hand—”
“You burned his hair off with a torch?” interrupted Alex, looking incredulously at Gwendolyn.
She nodded.
“Next time, try a pair of scissors,” he advised amiably. “I think you’ll find the results are far more even.”
“You may be interested to know, MacDunn, that I am now ruler of Scotland,” Robert announced grandly.
Alex raised his brows. “How fascinating. Does King William know about this?”
“I expect he does,” replied Robert, not sounding overly certain.
“Well, if you have become king, surely you must have defeated him in some great battle. I can’t see how he would fail to notice a thing like that.”
Robert’s mouth curved in a thin smile. “All I did was use this stone.” He held the precious gem between his thumb and forefinger. “It has made me the mightiest ruler in the land.”
Alex cocked his head to one side. “Your pardon, Robert, but you don’t look very mighty,” he observed candidly. “If that stone can grant wishes, perhaps you should wish for your hair to grow back—and maybe for your face to be cleaned up a bit—”
“Enough!” Robert snarled, exasperated.
Alex shrugged. “Well, then, now that you’re king, what are you going to do?”
Robert smiled and drew his sword from its sheath. “The first thing I’m going to do, you mad idiot, is kill you.”
“No!” cried Gwendolyn. “Please, Robert, I beg you, do not do this. I will do whatever you say—just let him live!”
“You will do whatever I say regardless of what happens to him,” he said harshly. “And now that the stone has given me this power, you are of no further use to me anyway.” He waved his sword at Alex. “Come down off your horse, Mad MacDunn, and meet your death.”
“Don’t do it, MacDunn!” Gwendolyn cried, rushing toward him. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she clung to his heavily muscled leg, trying to hold him to his mount. “Ride away!” she pleaded softly. “You still have a chance if you just turn and ride away!”
Alex’s expression remained a cross between amusement and bewilderment. “Really, m’lady, your lack of faith in me is almost insulting.”
“You don’t understand,” said Gwendolyn desperately.
“Robert cannot be defeated—the stone has given him that power! No matter how bravely you fight, you will die. You have a son who needs you and a clan who must have your protection.” She pressed her forehead against his thigh and finished in a ragged whisper, “I beg you, Alex, do not sacrifice yourself for nothing.”
Alex gently tipped her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze.
No hint of madness clouded the piercing blue of his eyes, and even the insouciance he had affected but an instant earlier had vanished.
“You are not nothing to me, Gwendolyn,” he said, his voice achingly low and reverent.
He tenderly caressed her tear-streaked cheek as he finished roughly, “You are everything.”
Gwendolyn stared at him in wonder as she slowly absorbed the meaning of his words, his touch, the solemn, powerful intensity of his gaze. And then she shook her head and glared at him, fighting her emotions, knowing that if she opened her heart to him, they would both surely die.