Highland Love Song (DeWinter's Song 2) (26 page)

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Arrian knocked on the door, knowing Ian would be at his ledgers this morning. It had taken courage for her to come to him, because she had to tell him she was returning to England and at the same time ask a boon of him.

When she entered the room at his invitation, she found him not at his desk but sitting before the portrait of their grandfather with a glass of wine in his hand. When he saw Arrian, he came to his feet with a pleased smile on his face.

"Arrian, what a pleasant surprise. You have never visited me here."

She stood beside him and glanced up at the portrait of Gille Maclvors in his younger days. The old chief's eyes were piercing and seemed to dominate the atmosphere.

"I often came here to visit Grandfather," Arrian said. "He kept hard candy for me in his drawer."

Ian's voice came out cold and bitter. "He never gave me anything but the benefit of his unsolicited advice and criticism."

"I'm sure he had to impress upon you the magnitude of the responsibilities you would be facing when you took over for him."

"He impressed them on me right enough. I never did anything that pleased him. He never gave me rock candy. But I have it all now that he's dead. That's my satisfaction."

Arrian looked into small, greedy eyes and noticed the cruel twist to his mouth. She wished she had not sought him out today, but she was here, and she would ask her favor of him.

"You are aware that my family is leaving within the week?"

"Yes, your father told me." He looked regretful. "You will, of course, be going with them. It would not be proper for you to stay here until our year of mourning is over."

Ian was taking her departure more calmly than she had thought he would. "It wouldn't be right for me to remain under the circumstances."

"As I just pointed out to you." Now his tone was biting, and she realized he'd had too much to drink. "You will give me credit for knowing the proper way to behave."

She was puzzled by his attitude. Had he decided they were not meant to be husband and wife? She hoped it was so.

"I have also come to ask a favor that only you can grant."

He smiled down at her. "You should know that anything you ask of me will be granted. What is your wish?"

"I—" She met his gaze. "I would ask you to return the body of Lord Warrick's sister to Glencarin."

She would have thought him unaffected by her request had it not been for the balling of his fists. "And why should you care where Lady Gwendolyn is buried?"

"Because a great wrong was done to her. I believe she should be laid to rest with her ancestors. Hers is a sad story, and I like happy endings."

"The dead don't care where they spend eternity."

"No, but those who love them care."

"So, you do it for him." Ian stared for a long moment at his grandfather's likeness and then turned back to her. "And just who would escort the remains of Lady Gwendolyn to Glencarin? I don't believe you could pay any Maclvors enough money to go onto Drummond land."

"My brother, Michael, has agreed to escort the body, if you will allow it."

He looked down at her, his eyes cool and calculating. "How badly do you want this?"

"I have come to care a great deal about Lady Gwendolyn's plight. I visit her grave every day with fresh flowers."

Ian was silent. If they were married, and he still had not given up hope on that, he did not want there to be any reminders of Warrick Glencarin here at Davinsham. He certainly didn't want her making a pilgrimage every day to put flowers on Lady Gwendolyn's grave.

It felt good to have the power to grant her a favor. "I will allow it, but only on one condition."

"And what would that be?"

"It would mean your postponing your departure for two weeks. Do you think you could convince your father to agree to that?"

"There would have to be a good reason to do so. He's anxious to return to Ravenworth."

"I can assure you it is the best of all reasons. I petitioned the king again to hear my grievances against Lord Warrick when I learned that you had been . . . shall we say, detained by him."

"You had no right to do that, Ian. My father will do what needs to be done when we get back to England."

"I have every right, and it's already done. I have only to appear with Lord Warrick to hear the king's judgment. There is little doubt that the ruling will be in my favor this time."

Arrian was angry that Ian had taken it upon himself to petition King William. "I don't believe my father and mother will want all the facts made public."

"They won't be. I'll see that the evidence is sealed so that only the parties involved will know about it. All I'll need from you, Arrian, is for you to testify how Lord Warrick held you prisoner. That will ensure his doom. Of course, the meeting will take place whether or not you return to England. I just thought you might like to be here when the outcome is decided."

Arrian was so angry she could hardly speak. Did he really believe she would testify against her baby's father? "When will this meeting take place?"

"I received a letter only today from the king's deputy, informing me that the meeting would be in Edinburgh two weeks hence. I have no doubt, since your name is DeWinter, the matter was brought immediately to the king's attention."

"Is this blood feud destined to go on forever, passed from one generation to another?"

"Let us hope it will soon be over. Do I have your agreement to talk to your father?"

Arrian lost the last bit of respect she had for Ian. "I'll speak to my father."

He took her hand and stared down at the finger where his ring had once rested. "I will only be happy, Arrian, when you again wear my ring."

She pulled her hand from his grasp. "An absurd notion, since I carry another man's child."

He dropped his gaze. "I will raise your child as if it were my own. No one need ever know that I'm not the father."

She could not forget that he had wanted her to be rid of the baby. "But you and I would always know, Ian."

Arrian and Michael stood beside the black-draped coach that was waiting to begin its sad journey. The coach would be returning a daughter of the Highlands to her final resting place.

"Michael, please beseech Warrick to let the feud die with the return of his sister's body."

Michael took a long look at his sister. "I may be younger than you, Arrian, but I know you well enough to sense when you are troubled."

Arrian tucked a golden strand of hair behind her ear and met her brother's eyes. "I wonder if there is anything but sadness in this cursed country. I'll be glad when I'm back at Ravenworth. I'll never again leave, I can promise you that."

"Will you be happy there, I wonder?"

"I . . . what do you mean?"

"You love him, don't you?"

She chose to misunderstand him. "I thought I did. But what I felt for Ian was merely a young girl's fancy for an older man."

"I wasn't referring to Ian and you know it, Arrian. I was asking about the Highlander."

"I am no longer certain what love is, Michael. But I do know this, I don't want to see Warrick suffer any longer."

Michael gave her a quick peck on the cheek, thrust his foot into the stirrup, and threw his leg over his prancing horse. He waved his hand, and the coach moved away. "Don't despair, sister. One never knows what might happen."

Arrian wiped a tear from her eyes and whispered, "Rest in peace, Lady Gwendolyn."

*                                                        *                                                        *

Raile DeWinter glared at his wife. "I demand to know what is happening here. Damn it, Kassidy, why are we delaying our return to Ravenworth? I have little liking for this place and even less for Ian Maclvors. If your grandfather had not died, our daughter would have been married to him by now. I'm aghast at that thought."

"Don't be such a bear, Raile. Arrian is going home with us. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"What I want is to know what scheme you have buried in that beautiful head of yours. You aren't telling me everything about our daughter."

"Let's talk about that later."

"I've been too long away from you," he said, tugging at the gathered neck of her gown and forgetting for a moment what was troubling him.

"I missed you, too, Raile. Everything goes wrong when you aren't with me."

He loosened the pins in her hair. "I can't think why you stopped me from riding to Glencarin and thrashing Lord Warrick. That man has little time left on this earth, because I will bring him down, Kassidy, and not you or anyone will stop me!"

Her arms inched around his neck. "Everything is not as it seems, Raile."

"Then tell me how it is? Why has my son gone off to deliver a dead body to Glencarin? Will you tell me when in hell did I lose control of my own family?"

Kassidy pressed his face between her hands. "As I told you, there is more to it than you know, Raile. In fact, it's quite complicated."

"I have time," he said, dropping into a chair and studying her with a scowl on his handsome face. "So tell me everything."

Kassidy knelt down in front of him, her apricot-colored gown billowing out about her. She tried twice to say the words, but they stuck in her throat. "Raile, Arrian is going to have Lord Warrick's baby."

She watched emotions play across his face—first anger, then denial, and then a deep sadness. "By God, I'll kill him for this, Kassidy!" He stood up so fast he almost knocked her on the floor. "Why didn't you tell me so that I could have gone with Michael?"

"Because I want to explain to you how it happened, Raile."

"I know how such things happen, Kassidy. What I don't know, in my daughter's case, is why."

"I have explained to you that they are legally married. What I haven't told you is that I believe Arrian loves him."

Raile shook his head. "No. No you don't, Kassidy. I'll never give her over to that man. He has no honor and he took advantage of her innocence. As far as our daughter is concerned, he's a dead man!"

"There is nothing you or I can do to stop her from loving him, Raile. No more than anyone could have stopped me from loving you. I will love you for the rest of my life, and I believe Arrian will be miserable if we don't help her in this situation. She is very troubled, Raile, and she needs us to understand."

His eyes did not soften, but his voice was calmer. "How can you know she loves him? She thought she loved Ian, remember?"

"I remember. But there is a difference between being in love with an ideal and loving a man."

Raile still glared at her. "Don't expect me to understand the workings of a woman's mind. I haven't been in control of my life since I met you."

She went to him and pressed her cheek against his. "Don't understand me, Raile—just love me."

His arms tightened around her, and he held her next to his heart. "I could sooner stop breathing than stop loving you, Kassidy. But damn it—"

She pressed her lips against his, cutting off his speech. There would be time later to convince Raile that Arrian belonged with Warrick Glencarin.

                                                        *                                          *                                          *

Barra entered the dining room with a puzzled expression on her face. "M'lord, there is the strangest sight outside. A coach bedecked in black. I told the gentleman, who insisted on seeing you, that you was dining. He said you'd want to be disturbed for this."

"Who is it?"

"I never saw the likes of him before. But he'll be a proper gentleman, and English, I'd say from the sound of him."

Warrick left the room and hurried to the front door. He stared at the tall young man who stood, hat in hand, beside his horse.

"I'm Warrick Glencarin. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, my lord. I have come from Davinsham precisely to see you."

Warrick stood eye to eye with the young English gentleman. "You can just return to Davinsham and tell Ian Maclvors that I want nothing from him."

"What I have for you was not sent by Ian Maclvors." Michael opened the door of the coach so Warrick could see inside. "My lord, I will not haggle with you over something so important as your sister's body. You see, I have brought Lady Gwendolyn to you."

Warrick hurried forward, his hand touching the stone coffin with his sister's name carved deeply into the granite. His eyes probed the young man's. "Is this some cruel jest?"

"I can assure you it is not, my lord. It is indeed the body of your sister."

Lord Michael watched Warrick take a staggering step backwards and witnessed the pain that played across his face. "I know how you must feel, my lord. Believe me, if this were my sister, I would not rest until she had a proper burial."