Chapter 16
“T
he loss was the entire encampment. Men, women, children, the entire lot. They even slaughtered the horses.”
Aleck clenched his fist tightly as he listened to the report, angry at himself for allowing some of his clan to travel in the first place.
When the villager had appealed to him about traveling to his wife’s family so they could bring them back to the keep, he had consented to the journey, half hoping that a family traveling would not attract any danger along the way.
For years the borders had been peaceful, providing safe passage for travelers alike.
Yet his carelessness had caused an entire family to be slaughtered, and the thought sickened him like no other. “Take the bodies and bury them together. Perhaps in death they can find each other.”
The warrior bowed and hurried off to give out the order, leaving Aleck, Duncan, and Uncle Fergus alone in the study. “Someone is after you lad,” his uncle said quietly, clasping his hands behind his back. “These attacks do not make any sense.”
Aleck couldn’t help but agree. His warriors did not go out and raid villages like some clans did. He had no use for more land or for any spoils. His da and his brother might have been like that in the past, but Aleck’s clan was a peaceful one.
Which gave no cause for the attacks.
Turning to Duncan, he eyed his brother. “What say ye Brother?”
Duncan stretched out his booted feet before him, crossing his arms over his chest. “I say that we send out a party tae see if we can find those responsible and get answers as tae why they are attacking innocent people. I know ye want peace, but sometimes, Brother, there is a need for war in order for that tae be accomplished.”
Aleck sighed heavily. He did not want war. He wanted to keep his clan safe, but if they went to war there was a chance he could not do so.
But he also could not allow the innocent to be slaughtered. “Send out two parties, one tae the north and one tae the south. See if they can find anyone upon the roads that can give answers.”
Duncan gave him a small nod before exiting the room, intending on putting those parties together himself. Aleck braced his hands on the table that served as a desk for the laird, weariness in his bones.
“Ye are doing the right thing,” Uncle Fergus said, seeing the angst on his nephew’s face. “These are things that a laird must deal with Aleck, none of them pleasant.”
Aleck was well aware of the unpleasantness of being a laird.
It didn’t mean he liked it.
Two days later, the parties returned, this time with a few prisoners.
Aleck did not say a word to his wife, instead heading to the dungeon where the prisoners had been taken, flanked by his brother and a few of his chosen warriors.
It wasn’t that he was afraid of the men, he just didn’t want to be the only one to hear what they had to say.
Stepping into one of the cells, Aleck made a grand show of rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckles as he stared down the man. “I will give ye but one chance tae tell me who ye are and which clan ye belong tae.”
The man, half his face covered in dried blood, spat in the dirt near his feet before rising to his full height. “Nae. Do what ye must, but I willnae give up mah clan.”
Aleck felt the heaviness settle in his shoulders at what he must do. They needed answers, even if it meant going through each man that had been captured in order to get them.
An hour later, his knuckles were raw, his soul heavy as he stepped back, the tangy smell of blood in the air. “Do ye yield?”
The man spit again in the dirt, this time spewing more blood. “Aye.”
The tension in his shoulders eased as he nodded to one of his own warriors to help the man to his feet, producing a flask of whisky to dull the man’s pain. “Speak.”
After taking a few swallows, the man sighed heavily. “’Tis was McPherson.”
Duncan’s sharp intake told Aleck that he thought the same thing. McPherson, as in Fennella’s brother. “Why?” he asked, his throat tight.
The man shook his head. “I dinnae know why. But he was clear tae attack anything coming out of this keep.”
Aleck’s jaw worked as he turned away. “Make certain his wounds are tended tae,” he told Duncan before leaving the cell, his mind conflicted. It wasn’t so much that he was surprised, but another thought—a dangerous thought—was taking root and he did not want to entertain it.
What if Fennella was in on her brother’s plans?
It was a logical question. She had been forced to wed him, leave her own family, and become a wife to a man she did not even know. Any woman would be looking for vengeance.
The problem was, he could not look at her and say she wouldn’t do such a thing. In his heart he hoped for it not to be true, but in his mind, he wasn’t so certain.
That evening at dinner, he could barely glance in Fennella’s direction without it paining him. More than once he had found himself doing so, seeing the questions in her eyes that he did not want to answer.
That and it was clear by looking at his hands that something had happened that he had not shared with her, which brought about a new wound to his heart. Why he was withholding the information from Fennella, Aleck could not understand.
He needed to know he could trust her, yet this new revelation formed more questions than answers.
“My lord?”
Aleck drained the tankard in his hand before beckoning the servant for more, knowing he was drinking himself into a stupor.
Liquid courage, as his da would say. “What?”
Isla shrank at his harsh tone. “I was just wondering if we needed tae be concerned about the recent violence on the border. I have heard ye took in some prisoners.”
Fennella’s swift intake had Aleck cursing inwardly. He hadn’t told her, yet Isla had found out on her own. “Nae, I have it under control,” he growled.
“Ye took prisoners?”
The hurt in Fennella’s voice was evident and Aleck wanted to pull her into his arms, hold her close to him, and murmur soft words into her hair. “Aye.”
“I see,” she said slowly, her voice forcing him to look at her. By holy the woman was lovely when she was angered. “Were ye going tae inform yer wife of this recent event or let those that idly gossip tell her?”
Not caring who was around them, he leaned over, his hand on top of hers. “I had every intention of doing so lass.”
She withdrew her hand from under his, her jaw set. “Clearly I must have been last on yer list.”
This was not what Aleck needed right now. He needed for them to be unified, especially with the turmoil that was starting to build. The turmoil that he would have to approach her with.
If he did, then it would only make matters worse. “Pray excuse me,” she said tightly, rising from her chair. “I feel a pain in my head coming on.”
“Fennella,” he called after her. She didn’t stop and he slumped in his chair, reaching for his ale. He did not want her angry with him.
“My lord, if I may.”
“Ye may not,” he growled at Isla, not caring to see her. “Leave me.”
She looked surprised at his request, but rose from the chair regardless, giving him a stiff nod before heading to the stairs.
Aleck watched her go, disgusted at what she had caused between him and Fennella. At least the rest of his family had not been here to witness this exchange tonight. Duncan was in the dungeon, taking names of those that would give them, and any information that they were willing to share.
His uncle had taken his supper elsewhere tonight, likely because of his nephew’s foul mood.
Aleck couldn’t blame him.
After a few more rounds of ale, Aleck finally found the courage to rise from his chair and start toward his bedchamber, his tongue finding it hard to form the words he would say to his wife. He needed to tell her of what he learned and inform her that he didn’t believe that she was a part of it.
He wanted to tell her that he trusted her, that he cared deeply for her.
Turning the corner, Aleck nearly bowled over Isla. “What are ye doing?” he asked, pressing his hand against the wall for support.
Her eyes were wide. “I-I was only coming to check on you, my lord. I had not heard your footsteps pass my door yet.”
“As ye can see, I am fine,” he slurred, finding it hard to focus on her face.
There were two of Isla right now.
She sidled closer, her hand pressing against his chest. “Your heart is racing my lord. Does my presence do that?”
Aleck let out a bark of laughter. “Lass mah heart beats for no one save one person, and it is not ye.”
Instead of looking affronted, Isla slid her hand up to his cheek, her touch foreign on his skin. “I could change that,” she murmured, her finger tracing his bottom lip. “I can do things that you have only dreamed of, Aleck.”
The whisper of his name on her lips didn’t feel right and when she pressed them to his, he nearly stumbled back in haste to get away from her.
The gasp that filled the hall was like he had dunked his head into a trough filled with cold water.
Fennella.