Chapter 22
“W
hat kind of father would put a hit out on his daughter?” Maggie murmured as she sipped from her glass of wine. Noticing that her hands were shaking more than usual tonight, Lachlan grabbed the carafe before she could and refilled their glasses.
“One who would use his daughter to fell an alliance,” Lachlan muttered darkly. “Unfortunately, we have no proof.”
His mother smiled at him. “At least ye know that she is on yer side now. Surely, she wouldn’t continue to work for a man who would want her dead.”
He didn’t say anything to her. He knew how his family felt about Sloane. They wanted to paint her as the innocent victim of her father’s manipulations, but she had confessed that she knew what she was doing and Lachlan knew that Sloane was not as weak-minded as everyone thought.
And she didn’t trust him. Why should he trust her?
“I doona think she has done anything to harm anyone,” Freya interjected. “She agreed to do something and then never did it.”
Lachlan shot her a quelling look. “Are ye so certain? Can ye take her word over the reaction of the man who tried to hurt ye?”
“Aye, I do trust her. I also trust that her father would not want her dead if he still thought she was useful,” his sister shot back. “Honestly, Lachlan, why do ye want yer wife to be so guilty?”
“I doona want her to be guilty. I am Laird of this clan and I cannae ignore a direct threat against my family and my name, no matter where that threat comes from. Sloane has always wanted her father’s approval.
Simply because he has taken drastic measures to ensure her cooperation doesna mean that we should not be wary around her. ”
Even his father looked at him in surprise. Rather than take this meal with his men, Lachlan had chosen to dine with his family privately tonight. He was hardly in the mood for merriment.
They had enemies on all sides and he didn’t know where to look.
Part of him wondered if the dangers against her were nothing more than a ploy to gain his sympathies again.
Then again, he’d vowed to protect her, so he couldn’t just dismiss it either on the chance that someone did want to do her harm.
Errol Fenton was a bastard, but would he really risk eternal damnation by killing his daughter?
Sloane was back in her chambers and he dreaded going back tonight. Despite everything that she’d done, he still wanted her. Having her so close was dangerous. What kind of man did that make him? Why couldn’t he bring himself to hate the woman who’d come so close to harming his sister?
Furthermore, his family seemed to be on her side. Were they all blind to the dangers that she’d placed on his people?
“Perhaps ye are too close?” Calder began.
“Nay. I willna speak on this again,” Lachlan cut in. “This is not up for debate. Ye are to be on yer guard when she is around.”
“If ye distrust her so much then why do ye not just exile her and get it over with?” his father asked him quietly. “Or do ye hope to punish her more?”
“If I wanted to punish her, she would be in the dungeons.”
Calder watched him closely. “There are different ways to punish someone, son,” he reminded him quietly.
“Enough,” Lachlan roared.
At the ice in his voice, the table fell quiet. His heart pounded in his chest and he fought for control as he stared at them. Finally, he got his temper under control.
“Freya, ye are to keep yer distance from Sloane. If ye doona, then I will exile her. Do ye understand?”
“The only thing I understand is that ye are not the kind of man that I thought ye were.”
Clearly unhappy, his sister rose from the table with her plate still half-full and stalked from the room. With a clenched jaw, he watched her go. Freya was prone to temper tantrums, but this was something else entirely. Would any of them be the same after this?
His father did not shrink from him. “What will ye do about the threat against yer wife? Despite yer feelings about her, a threat against her is a direct threat against the clan, even if it does come from her father.”
“Without proof, I cannae act. All I can do is wait and see if they try again.”
“And if she dies in the process?” Maggie whispered. “What will ye do then?”
An unexpected fist of pain squeezed around his heart.
In all of this, he had yet to consider Sloane’s death.
It would not happen. “I am not washing my hands of her. She willna be without protection,” he muttered.
“Now if ye will excuse me, I will retire for the night. ‘Tis been a trying couple of days.”
The cheers and ruckus from the great hall were continuing, but he ignored them as he climbed the winding stone steps up to his chambers.
Entering his own room, he stared at the adjoining door.
Placing his hand on the wood, Lachlan fought every urge he had to open the door and see how she was.
Her wound was shallow and would heal, but he knew that she’d be shaken to the core knowing that her father had put out a contract on her life.
Even if this chasm wasn’t between them, he’d have no idea how to comfort her. Sloane was so veiled when it came to her father. He was never sure what she was thinking.
Just as he turned away, her scream pierced the air.
With his heart in his throat, Lachlan wrenched open the door. “Sloane!”
“Nay! Lachlan!” she shouted. “Doona move!”
Freezing, he looked up and saw her balancing precariously on the windowsill above her bed. Her face was paler than the moonlight streaming in, and she looked on the verge of tumbling down.
“What are ye doing up there?” he demanded.
“There is a snake in the furs of my bed,” she murmured. “I doona recognize it. I fear ‘tis poisonous.”
Narrowing his eyes, Lachlan focused on the bed and saw the slender body wrapping around the post of the bed as it moved slowly to the floor. His throat tightened. Snakes were common enough in the gardens, but they would never be found in the keep. And in her bed?
Someone had placed it there deliberately.
“It willna strike ye if ye keep yer distance. Stay on this side of the bed and climb down.”
“What if there are more?” she asked in a shaky voice.
She had a point. Walking slowly through the room, he kept his eyes trained on the bed and the floor for signs of movement. When he reached her, he stretched out his arms toward her.
“Come here. I willna let ye fall.”
Fury whipped inside of him when he saw the flash of doubt in her eyes, but Sloane slowly stretched her arms out until her hands were firmly on his shoulders. As she leaped, he caught her easily and whirled her from the bed and placed his body between her and the snake.
Nothing struck out. Carrying her to his room, he put her down. “Doona move,” he ordered grimly.
Snakes in her chambers meant there could just as easily be snakes in his chambers as well.
If this was the work of Errol Fenton, Lachlan had no doubt the man was insane enough to try to kill him when he tried to kill his own daughter.
Quickly closing the door, he did a cursory search of his chambers and saw nothing out of order.
“Ye will sleep here tonight,” he said grimly. “I will get yer room cleaned out.”
“Maybe I should sleep—”
“Bloody hell!” he roared. His temples pounded. “Is no one capable of following a simple command without arguing tonight?”
Sloane’s eyes widened and she immediately ducked her head. Even in the pale light of the candles, he could see that her hands were trembling. “I am sorry,” she whispered. “I didna mean to upset ye.”
She was already scared and he was making it worse. “Ye have been in the room all evening. Did ye just now get in the bed?”
Trembling a little, she nodded her head.
“I was reading a bit by the fire. I didna see the snake when I first got in the bed and I moved to blow out the candle when I felt it slithering along my legs. I nearly screamed and jumped then, but I feared it would strike, so I waited until it had moved off my body.”
“All right.” Resisting the urge to take her in his arms and kiss the top of her head, he took a step away from her. In her thin shift with her fiery strands tumbling down her shoulders, she looked far too vulnerable. “Get some sleep. By morning, the snakes will be gone.”
Nodding, she mumbled something that sounded like a thank you before she crawled in the bed. Stepping back into the hall, Lachlan closed the door and went to round up some people to help him.
“Four of them,” Blaine said grimly as he discarded the final snake they’d found curled beneath the bed. “Yer wife certainly has luck on her side.”
Adair frowned as he used his sword to turn one of the snakes onto its belly. “I’d wager my firstborn on the fact that these snakes arena from the mountains,” he murmured. “I have never seen a pattern like this before.”
“How did someone waltz into her room and dump four poisonous exotic snakes in her bed?” Lachlan demanded.
Adair and Jamie exchanged uneasy looks. “Do ye two have something to say?” Lachlan demanded.
“The women of the keep have access to her rooms,” Jamie finally said quietly.
“And I ‘ave heard Isla mention that they arena too happy with Sloane right now. Ye have given them free rein to act on their hatred. Any of them could have carried the snakes in a basket and emptied them in the room without anyone knowing.”
Lachlan clenched his jaw. “Then I will have a word with them. No one has the authority to punish Sloane except me.”
“Does she deserve to be punished?” Jamie asked boldly as he thrust his chin out.
“If ye know what is good for ye, ye willna question me again. What are ye doing speaking to Isla?” He blushed a little and Lachlan sighed. “She is with child, Jamie. She isna for yer entertainment, do ye understand?”
“I would never!” Jamie said hotly. “She deserves more than that.”
“Aye. She does. I apologize if I implied otherwise.” Tempers were too high tonight and they were all running on thin sleep. Running his hand through his hair, he nodded to them. “Thank ye for yer help. Dispose of these and go home. Get some rest.”
“That is twice now that someone has made a move against yer wife,” Adair reminded him in a low voice. “If any one of these had bitten her, ye would have lost her.”
“Is there a point, or did ye just want to restate the obvious?”
His warrior clenched his fists and turned away. It seemed that plenty wanted to tell him something, but no one was willing to say the words. Dismissing them, he stayed for a few minutes longer and looked around her room.
Adair was right. She could have died right there in the chambers, and he would not have been there to protect her.
Turning, he threw open the adjoining door. It didn’t surprise him to find that she wasn’t asleep. Instead, she was at the window and staring out. “Is it safe now?” she whispered as she turned to him.
“Aye. We have rid yer room of the snakes.”
“Thank ye. I will retire to my bed.” Bowing her head, she tried to slip by him. Instead, he reached out and snagged her elbow.
“No,” he murmured.
Her whole body stilled and she looked up at him uncertainly. “No?”
“No.”
Losing all control, she weakly let him pull her to the bed until he sat on the edge and pulled her between his legs. Lowering his head, he pressed his forehead to her belly. “You should let me go,” she whispered.
When he raised his head, Lachlan’s eyes were dark with anger.
“Should I let ye go, Sloane? Since the moment ye became mine, I have protected ye. Because ye broke yer vows to me doesna mean that I will. If I let ye leave on yer own, ye will be dead within days. Is that what ye want to do, Sloane? Do ye want to die? Or is this just a ploy to run to yer father and beg him to take ye back?”
His words cut deep. “If ye hate me so much then why am I here? In yer chambers?”
“I wish I knew,” he growled before he stood quickly and pulled her up against his body.
When his lips descended on hers, she didn’t resist. His own desire was pressed against her and she couldn’t deny that she’d missed being in his arms. Eager, she opened against him and let those masterful lips sweep her away and leave her breathless.
He started with the buttons of her shift but pulled the fabric from her shoulders and down her body as he pressed his lips to her neck.
Frantic, Lachlan moved his lips down her throat and to her breasts and when her knees grew weak, she finally wrapped her arms around his body to hold on.
Gently, he lifted her to the bed, pressing her body down as he followed her and continued the assault of his lips down her body until he settled between her legs.
As a tortured pleasure coursed through her body, she wanted to say his name, but she feared that he would leave her and she would find herself once again shut-out of his life.
His lips moved against the most feminine part of her and she twisted and writhed until her body could take no more.
If he hadn’t been anchoring her down, she would have risen off the bed as her body exploded.
“Sloane,” he murmured hoarsely as he slid up her body.
When he entered her in one hard thrust, his eyes were stormy with lust, but there was something else in his expression, something dangerous that threatened to release all the tears she’d been keeping locked away.
However, when he kissed her again, she focused just on this—just on him.
Together they moved as if they knew that this was the one thing between them where there would be no mistake and no pain.
Rolling over in the bed, she sat astride him and moved at a pace that took her breath away and when she still couldn’t keep up, they rolled again until he was once again in control.
Finally, a scream of pleasure ripped from her lips as she succumbed and he emptied inside her with a low groan before covering her completely with his body and burying his face in the crook of her neck.
They stayed like this and as she listlessly moved her fingers over his back, Sloane closed her eyes and tried to will him to stay with her, but he lifted himself up to his elbows and stared down at her.
Now that the lust was gone, she could see the pain hiding behind it.
Silently, Lachlan rose from the bed and dressed.
He left the room and she knew that he wasn’t coming back that night.
Turning, she stared at the wall and knew that she couldn’t stay.