Chapter Fifteen
It had been a hellish feckin’ week. The old MacMuirrow had finally given up and grudgingly gone to his grave, but not before setting off one last ripple of treachery through the council with the few followers Glengarten still controlled.
Along with resolving that mess, Drummond had also settled on a plan to help his beloved Evie fully commit to their union.
Unfortunately, that plan had not come without its own particular challenges.
May the Almighty help him hold fast and remain strong.
“Why are they still here?” he asked Murdoch while giving Lady Merelys Heberdy a polite nod. She was meandering back and forth around the great hall like a predator circling its prey.
“They say ’tis because of the impassable roads due to the mud and melting snow.
Well, that, and yer father’s burial.” Murdoch turned aside, covering his mouth with his fist as he pretended to clear his throat.
“But Mrs. Farris tells me they’ve sent for their solicitor.
Ye ken how well her maids report back to her. ”
“They still intend to challenge my marriage to Evie?”
“Aye.”
Not surprising. Were the situation reversed, Drummond would do the same. Maybe.
He sipped his ale and returned his focus to the stairwell, watching for the woman who had given him the greatest joy and the most heartbreaking pain in almost equal shares.
It was one thing for him to sense his wife’s struggles with commitment, but it was a dire thing indeed for others to see her doubts just as plainly, and he felt sure canny old Heberdy had noticed as well.
A heavy sigh left him. Ever since their return from Glen Blackmorrow and the battle with Beira’s hags, a crushing uneasiness had plagued him.
No matter how much Evie swore she belonged at his side, he still saw the longing for her past life in her eyes, heard it in her voice, and her fears were still there.
She worried about things that might not even come to pass.
But heaven help him, he needed her more each day.
He snorted a mirthless laugh. If anyone had ever told him he would love a woman with such unyielding ferocity, he would have called them mad. Yet here he was, utterly helpless to do anything other than pray that she would someday love him just as fiercely.
“M’lord,” Lady Merelys said as she boldly swept her way up to the head table, “may I join ye?”
In his experience, women were just as dangerous as men and not to be underestimated, but what else could he do?
He nodded. “Of course, Lady Merelys, although it surprises me to find ye here in the hall without yer maid or one of yer father’s men.
I highly doubt Chief Heberdy wishes his daughter unaccompanied. ”
Rather than blush and retreat as most maidens would, she surprised him with a bold laugh, then settled into the chair beside him, Evie’s chair, and leaned in close. “Am I not safe with ye, m’lord?”
He shifted, placing more space between them. “Ye are most safe with me, m’lady. But appearances are everything, ye ken? Most would think it unseemly for a maiden to wander the halls of a strange keep alone. Would yer father not think so?”
Malice rather than shame or embarrassment glittered in her beautiful eyes. “My father trusts me, m’lord.”
“Aye, well”—Drummond lowered his voice—“I do not.”
Without reacting, the cunning woman slid her gaze to something behind him.
“I believe you are in my seat,” Evie said to the girl as she drew closer and possessively rested a hand on his shoulder.
He reached up and covered her hand with his, then smiled at the calculating Lady Merelys. “It was a pleasure speaking with ye, m’lady.”
Head held proudly, Lady Merelys slowly rose, then meandered away as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
Evie seated herself, then tapped on the gemstone of the warning ring Morganna had given her. “I can’t believe this thing doesn’t change whenever that chick’s around. She’s pure evil.”
Chick? While unaccustomed to that word for a woman, he understood the gist of it. Evie did not mean it kindly. “Yer Morganna said the ring sensed Fae. Not evil, ye ken?”
She made a face. “True.” Folding her hands in her lap, she eyed him and started chewing her lip.
Now what? Whenever she chewed her lip, she was about to say something he wasn’t going to like. “Speak it, wife, before ye start yer lip to bleeding.”
She immediately stopped, but tantalized him by licking her lips. “I’ve missed you.”
“I have not been away from the keep.” But he knew very well what she meant. Mrs. Farris had informed him about one of his wife’s particular fears that a maid had heard Evie confess to Morganna while unaware that a servant was close enough to overhear.
“I’ve missed you at night,” she said with a meaningful dip of her chin. “And you don’t answer when I knock on your locked bedroom door.”
“I have missed ye as well,” he said softly, “but we’ll not share a bed again until not a doubt remains about our bond.”
She stared at him, unblinking. “Did Morganna talk to you?”
“Morganna did not have to.” He’d not lie to his Evie. He would simply show her their bond was more than just physical—even if it killed him with the wanting of her.
“Then how—?”
“There is something ye should understand about Dubh Tower, m’love. The walls have ears, and they report back to me. Nearly always.”
“Why are you doing this?” Her jaw tightened with the obvious clenching of her teeth. Frustration poured from her.
“To show that what exists between us is more than simple lust.” He took her hand and grazed a tender kiss across her knuckles.
“We are one because we finally found each other after being torn asunder and tossed to the winds of time. We are one soul, one heart, finally melded and made whole again. Aye, each other’s touch brings us ecstasy beyond belief, but we are more than that; we are spirits meant to love each other, to choose each other, again and again across the centuries.
” He released her hand and smiled. “And ye must accept that with no doubts whatsoever.”
“Even the healthiest of couples have doubts and disagreements.”
“Aye, ye’ve said that before. But the doubts ye possess are concerning enough to keep us targets for the gods and the Fae.
” He intended to force her to suspend her twenty-first-century logic and embrace all the wondrous impossibilities of their world.
“’Tis a sad thing indeed that yer world no longer believes in the truth about the legends, in the very realness of magic, and all the inexplicable wonders to be embraced if ye but believe in them. ”
Idly watching those of the clan meander into the great hall and take their seats at the long trestle tables, she squinted as though trying to focus on the farthest point in the room.
“Science and technology have demystified my world.” Then she barely nodded.
“And you’re right. It is sad.” Still perusing the room, she wrinkled her nose. “When are the Heberdys going to leave?”
“They await their solicitor. Or perhaps wait for word from their solicitor.”
“What’s a solicitor?”
He didn’t know what such a person might be called in her time. “A person who handles legal matters for the clan. Clan MacMuirrow has one as well, but as you might imagine, Heberdy prefers to make use of his own.”
She still appeared confused. “Why are they waiting for word from their lawyer? You had nothing to do with that contract.”
“Aye, but they still wish to try. Not only do they resent the loss of the match, but also the loss of how such a marriage would benefit their clan.”
“Great. Yet another hurdle.” She made a hissing sound that reminded him of the wee moggy that kept the mice out of the stores.
“And by the way,” she said, “isn’t refusing to sleep with me kind of like closing the barn door after the horse has already gotten out?
You can’t exactly un-ring that bell, you know. ”
He almost laughed but thought better of it. His precious, passionate wife was frustrated. Good. “It will help ye come to realize we are more than the perfect coupling.” He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I love ye, Evie, and I intend to make ye love me too—with no reservations.”
She glared at him, but then her scowl deepened as she stared past him. “That tall guy over there by the hearth has pointy ears.” She slid her left hand along the table and wiggled the finger with the ring. “Look. It’s turned green.”
Drummond stole a glance that way, then turned back to her, scooped up her hand, and kissed it again.
Without looking away from his beloved wife, he addressed Murdoch: “The tall, pointy-eared bastard at the hearth, man. Do all the guards possess the iron cuffs and chains Morganna had the smithy fashion?”
“Aye, and I’ve a set on me belt right now. I shall bring him to ye.”
“Morganna will be down any minute,” Evie whispered. “Should I stop her? Will he be able to see through her glamour?”
“I dinna ken.” Drummond forced himself to relax and rested his hands on the arms of his chair. They must not alarm the spy or give themselves away. “I canna believe that one was so lax as to allow his ears to show.”
“Do you think it’s a trap?”
“It verra well could be.” He nodded at the arch leading to their private stairwell. “Go upstairs. Keep yerself and Morganna out of harm’s way in the solar, aye? The Fae are not to be taken lightly, and Griogair will keep ye safe.”
After staring at him for a long moment with a look so panicked and full of heartbreak that it tore at his soul, Evie dove forward and kissed him long and hard. Jerking back, she locked eyes with him. “Don’t you dare get hurt,” she frantically whispered. “You hear me? Don’t you do it.”
His heart full, he sampled the sweetness of her mouth yet again, then whispered back, “Go upstairs, m’love. Make haste.” He braced for an argument, but it didn’t come. She simply gave him a worried nod, then hurried out of the hall.