Chapter 18
Eighteen
Sybella walked along the garden path, contemplating how she was going to free the stone from the great hall floor.
She would need to find some kind of tool to loosen it.
Perhaps she’d check the stables when everyone was asleep.
She had another disturbing thought. Once she removed her clan’s stone, there would be a hole in the floor.
She needed to find another rock to replace the one she would take.
She sat down on a bench and watched Rosalia and Ciaran play with Lachlann. Ciaran held his son up in the air and Lachlan smiled from ear to ear. When Rosalia reached out and touched her husband’s arm in a gentle gesture, his eyes held a tremendous amount of love for the woman standing by his side.
As Sybella watched the family together, she didn’t notice her own lips curving into a smile.
From what Alexander said about his cousin, Rosalia had suffered hardship and discomfort before meeting Ciaran.
But no one could tell from looking at the woman.
Rosalia was proud, strong. And Alex’s cousin had certainly found her inner peace and her one true love.
To be honest, Sybella was blissfully happy for Rosalia.
And if Sybella was truthful with herself, perhaps she was even a bit jealous of the woman who stood before her.
One thing was clearly evident: Rosalia was a survivor.
Every time Rosalia’s eyes met Ciaran’s, it was difficult not to notice the heartfelt love, understanding, and compassion that were exchanged between them. Sybella hoped that perhaps one day Alex would feel the same about her—well, as soon as she could clean up this mess her clan had created.
With that revelation, Sybella stood from the bench. “Pray excuse me. I think I will take a quick walk to the loch.”
Rosalia turned. “Do ye want us to come along with ye?”
“Nay, ye stay with your bonny lad. I will return soon.”
Sybella walked casually to the loch, her eyes searching the path along the way. There were no stones or rocks that would serve her purpose. She thought perhaps there might be more of a selection next to the water—at least, that was her hope.
Reaching the loch, she took a moment to merely stand there and admire the view.
The sun was starting to set below the horizon, and the leaves rustled in the wind.
She took a deep breath and let the fresh air stimulate her senses.
When another round of painful memories started to invade her thoughts, she began to walk.
Tiny pebbles rolled onto the sandy shore. When she almost stumbled, she looked down and spotted a rock that would suit her purpose. She picked up the stone and wiped the gritty sand off the surface.
On safer ground now, Sybella paused to reflect a moment.
She was astonished at the sense of completeness she felt at Glengarry.
She truly loved everything about this place.
From her home to the loch to her new kin, she could easily live out the rest of her days here.
And as long as the man she loved was forever by her side… She smiled at the thought.
***
Alex couldn’t deny the evidence any longer. His wife was a traitor. A MacKenzie through and through. Curses fell from his mouth, and he knew that when he was crossed, his temper could be almost uncontrollable.
“What will ye do?” asked John.
Alex ran his hand through his hair, his movements agitated. “Before or after I kill her?”
John’s eyes widened. “Alex…”
Alex looked up at the ceiling. “God’s teeth, I can hear ye now, Father. I should’ve known the lass was naught but trouble from the start. Why in the hell would I even think about wedding a MacKenzie. Why?”
“Do ye really want me to answer that?”
Alex glowered at John, and the man had the nerve to raise his hands in mock surrender. “May I offer ye a suggestion?”
Alex closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “What?”
“Ye arenae going to speak with her now, are ye?”
“Speaking, nay. Throttling or running my sword through her, mayhap. Howbeit I donna trust her to speak the truth, and besides, she hasnae yet taken the stone. If I question her, she would simply deny it.” Alex paused, his thoughts racing.
“I want ye to keep to the shadows and watch her every move. I entrust ye to do this, nae one of the men. After she takes the stone, I want to see her hand it over to the MacKenzie. We will deal with the two of them at the same time.”
“I am truly sorry, Alex. I thought the lass—”
“The lass doesnae matter.”
John nodded and simply walked out.
Alex sat down and pounded his fist on the desk. “An diobhail toirt leis thu!” The devil take you!
The MacKenzie clearly had played him for a fool. The arse hadn’t hesitated when Alex demanded two hundred fifty cattle as Sybella’s dowry. No wonder! The woman was planted under his roof to deliver the seeing stone to the MacKenzie seer. How utterly convenient.
He shook his head in awe at the lengths of the MacKenzie’s machinations.
He could imagine the man sitting behind the desk in his study, a smug expression upon his face.
The bastard had deceived a MacDonell—or so he thought.
But maybe it wasn’t too late. The MacKenzie still didn’t have the stone. Perhaps there was time…
Alex couldn’t calm his thoughts. What the hell was he going to do about the MacLeod? The man had tried to kill Alex’s wife. The MacLeod would just have to wait his turn. Besides, Alex couldn’t think about that now. He needed to solve one problem at a time.
Sybella’s missive to her brother continued to haunt him. What did she mean when she wrote, “Please stop this madness before it’s too late”? Was marriage to Alex so unbearable? She was clearly going to leave him after she delivered the damn stone to her father.
Alex’s heart hardened, and he refused to think of Sybella and her innocent touches. He banished the thoughts of their stolen moments. The woman was nothing more than a MacKenzie wench who had played him for a fool. And to think he cared for the lass, thought of her as one of his own.
He walked briskly to the parapet before he attempted to do something he would surely regret.
He wasn’t sure how long he remained there, nor did he care.
The silence was a blessing. Only when his head bobbed and jolted him awake did he finally seek his bed.
But no sooner did he close his eyes than the adjoining door opened and closed.
Alex watched his wife as she approached his bed.
At least he’d had enough sense left to keep the bedside candle lit.
He closed his eyes and feigned sleep, not giving Sybella the chance to place a dagger straight through his heart.
For a moment, she merely stood there and watched him, no doubt planning his untimely demise.
When she reached out to touch him, he whipped out his hand and firmly grabbed her arm.
Sybella gasped.
“What are ye doing?” he asked, his voice hardening ruthlessly.
“Praise the saints, ye frightened me. I wanted to make sure ye and Aunt Iseabail were all right.” When he didn’t respond and his eyes darkened, she gently pulled to free herself from his grasp. “Alex…”
He released her arm and his eyes roamed to her nightrail. He could see her creamy breasts through the thin material. “Seek your bed, Sybella.”
Instead of heeding his command, the lass placed her hands on her hips. “What is the matter with ye, Alexander?”
Alex punched the lumps out of his pillow while she stood there gawking at him. The lass clearly didn’t know how much danger she was in. When she finally walked away, he rolled over onto his side. And there she stood, lifting the blankets and crawling into bed with him.
His eyes widened. “What are ye doing?”
“I am sleeping next to my husband.”
“I am in nay mood for bed sport, lass,” he said dryly.
She turned to face him, placing her hands in a prayer-like position under her cheek. “Tell me what happened. I know ye are distraught over Aunt Iseabail. Did her memory fail again?”
How was he to tell her that it was the complete opposite and that Aunt Iseabail remembered the stone Sybella had been sent to recover?
As the sultry temptress lay there with her innocent looks, pretending to be concerned about his aunt, she had no idea how much he wanted to reach over and throttle her. The lass had some bollocks.
She lifted her hand and gently rubbed his cheek. “I see ye are troubled. Share your burden with me. I am your wife.”
He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.
A kiss as tender and light as a summer breeze brushed his lips. His eyes flew open as his wife nestled her body against his. She raised her hand to his cheek and pulled him closer, forcing him to deepen the kiss. What the hell was she doing?
He placed his hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her away.
She hesitated and then her hand encircled his cock.
She began to stroke him, and he unwillingly lost the last thread of self-restraint he had managed to hold on to.
If this was the game the lass wanted to play, he would treat her like the MacKenzie wench she was.
He would make this one encounter she would never forget.
He tossed her onto her back and lifted her legs to straddle him. Lowering his head, he gave her a brutal, punishing kiss, forcing her lips open with his thrusting tongue. He placed his hand behind her neck and wrung her hair in his fingers, tightening his grip. God, he would make her pay.
Releasing her hair, he skimmed her body over her nightrail and brazenly reached down and inserted his finger between her legs. Damn. The lass was so ready for him. She was so wet. Hot.
Roughly, he tugged her nightrail down past her shoulders until the fabric ripped beneath his hands. He lifted himself up, tearing at the material and exposing her breasts. He fondled one globe, its pink nipple marble hard.