CHAPTER NINE #4
Royce’s gaze slid over Allie’s top and jeans. “Dinna think to seduce him to yer cause. He’s very fond o’ his wife.”
Allie smiled at him. “You’re my cause. And the only man I wish to seduce,” she added.
Royce scowled.
“Besides, I really like it here. I am going to think of this as a vacation. Iona is a mile or two from here. It’s holy ground and Claire has already offered to take me there.
” They hadn’t even discussed it. “So even if you change your mind, I can’t go back to Carrick with you,” she lied lightly. “Not yet.”
Royce appeared alarmed. He flushed. “Malcolm has agreed ye can stay at Dunroch. There’ll be no visits to the Sanctuary.”
Allie was taken aback. This was odd—and interesting. Why would Royce refuse to allow her a visit? Iona was holy. Her mother had lived there for centuries.
“She stays here,” Royce said to Malcolm, as if his nephew were a foot soldier. “Until I decide otherwise.” He leapt down the first few steps and then leapt again into the ward.
Malcolm chuckled.
“What was that about?” Allie asked, remaining bewildered. But now, she shivered. It was freezing high up on the walls, exposed to the blasting Atlantic winds.
“He be jealous. Green, in fact.” Malcolm laughed again, guiding her down the stairs.
“He’s jealous of what? A bunch of monks worshiping the Ancients?”
“Ah, lass, the Masters often sojourn on the isle, an’ I think he dinna wish for ye to have a choice of other men.”
Allie straightened, keenly interested now. Hadn’t her modern Royce mentioned he’d taken his vows on the island? And of course Iona would be the perfect sanctuary, as no demon ever tread upon holy ground. Did Royce really think she’d become interested in another man if she went there?
Allie walked to a stone bench and sat, cross-legged. If she needed to provoke Royce by going to Iona, she just might do so.
Malcolm came and sat beside her. “Yer man has asked me to keep ye here an’ to protect ye while he hunts Moffat.”
“I know.” Allie stopped smiling. “But I’m not staying. Sorry! Dunroch is wonderful, but my place is at Carrick with Royce. He needs me.”
Malcolm simply studied her, his gaze searching. “Ye have a good power, Lady. Even sitting next to ye, I be calm an’ soothed. I agree—my uncle needs yer light.”
“So you’ll tell Royce you won’t let me stay here?”
Malcolm sighed. “Lady Allie, I canna deny Royce. He’s more father to me than uncle. I vowed to keep ye an’ protect ye. I must do so.”
Allie was dismayed. “Then I have to work on Royce. How long do I have? When is he leaving?”
“He’ll leave in the morn. Aye, work yer wiles. T’will be interesting to see who’s stronger—I dinna think he can resist ye for too long.”
Allie was encouraged. But she said, “I hope he told you why he’s hunting Moffat?”
“Aye.”
“Did he tell you about his death?”
“Aye. I willna lie, Lady. I have grave worries now. Royce be more powerful than Moffat, but power doesna matter if his Fate is written otherwise.”
Allie hugged her knees to her chest. Everyone seemed to think that Royce was going to die on September 7, 2007, no matter what. Well, let them be pessimists. She was an optimist and proud of it, and more importantly, she never gave up. She wasn’t going to start now. He simply couldn’t die that day.
“I see ye care for my blackhearted uncle.”
“I love him,” Allie said. “Even when he is in his Mad Max mode.”
Malcolm seemed bewildered by that. “an’ ye wish to ken what?”
“I want to know what happened to his wife, when it happened and why he is suffering from so much guilt—and if he is in love with a ghost.”
Malcolm stood. “Ye need to ask Royce such great questions!”
“He won’t talk about her.” Grim, she said, “He loved her, didn’t he? Royce loved a woman with his heart and soul.” She was so dismayed admitting what she’d been secretly afraid of.
Malcolm hesitated. “Royce has never spoken of his wife. T’was long ago.”
Allie bit her lip. “Am I a fool to hope he’ll ever love me that way?”
Malcolm clasped her shoulder. “Lass, heed me. Royce was a boy of three an’ twenty when he wed. He be a man over eight hundred years old now. Why do ye care about the past?”
Allie pulled away and hugged herself. He’d been so young! She hadn’t realized. “Royce loved me in the future. Maybe he can’t love me right now, but there’s a connection, and it’s not just sex.”
Malcolm flushed.
“He cares. He’s proved it—once or twice.” She wiped her eyes. “What happened to his wife? Malcolm, please.”
Malcolm caved. “A great deamhan seized her, tortured her, raped her—for days, maybe weeks, I dinna ken. Royce finally rescued her—an’ handed her to another man, breaking their marriage.
Most Masters live alone, Lady Allie. There be a reason the Code requires it. Royce gave up his wife to protect her.”
“Oh gods,” Allie whispered. “Poor Royce.” She sat abruptly, wanting to cry for him. “You have Claire!”
“Aye, an’ I love her greatly. But she’s the daughter of a great Master.”
“I’m Elasaid’s daughter!” Allie cried.
Malcolm sighed. “Lass, I be young, just eight an’ twenty.
T’was easy for me to give over to Claire.
I dinna ken if Royce loved Brigdhe or if he cared as any husband should.
But I dinna think he will ever allow himself to be too fond of any woman again.
Are ye certain that in the future he said he loved ye? ”
Allie looked up. She was about to say, “Hell yeah,” but she stopped. The realization was dreadful. Royce had never said those three words, not even with his last dying breath.
Malcolm looked at her with pity. “I dinna think my uncle capable of the love ye want, lass. He’s hard, aye, but he’s older now—an’ tired.”
And that, Allie thought, explained why he’d wanted to die.