Highland Seer (10 page)

****

Lachlan MacDuff prided himself on being a patient man, but Ellie MacKyrie tried his patience past toleration. He stood at the window of the room the steward, Sawney, had silently led him to, and stared out over the countryside. They’d been careful again not to give him a view into the keep. It was the little things like that which told him Ellie still did not trust him and meant every word she said. She would not accept him as her husband. Not yet.

Perhaps she possessed wisdom beyond her years.

Even now, he waited for his men to return from the hall where they’d been gathering information. They hadn’t bothered with the villagers outside the keep as they rode in. They were mostly widows with young laddies and lassies and were too far removed from the center of his interest: Ellie MacKyrie. His lairdly presence would inhibit conversation in the hall, therefore he languished here. He hated being alone when he could have been enjoying the lovely Ellie. If she’d had a mind to. But she hadn’t.

She never did. He dared not accost her in her own keep, tempting as that might be. Nay, he’d wait until the right time. The MacKyrie lands were not going anywhere. The longer the reputation of their whisky grew and spread, the more valuable it would be when he did take over as laird. A pity Ellie had been married and used already by another, but she was a delectable morsel nonetheless. He could wait to sample her. Anticipation would make that eventuality even sweeter.

In the meantime, there had to be someone within the MacKyrie keep willing to keep him informed and do his bidding. They could not all be loyal to their laird; a woman had no business leading a clan.

A rap at the door broke through his thoughts. “Come.”

Two of his men entered and took seats at his gesture. “Well?”

“Ye ken this is a tight-knit clan. They should accept us by now, but there werena many who would talk with us. Most of the conversations we overheard were about the Lathans.”

“The visitors?”

“Aye. They’ve brought a treaty. Some sort of pact they’re building among the local Highland clans. The talk is, MacKyrie land is outside the area they planned to include, but another clan sent them here nonetheless.”

“Does the MacKyrie intend to sign?”

“From what we heard, aye. But she wants something first. Something about one of the Lathans staying here.”

MacDuff shook his head. The MacKyrie was a widow, and getting past marriageable age. If she thought to find a consort from among these strangers to avoid being wedded to him, he would have to accelerate his plans.

“Did ye find anyone willing to work with us?”

“Possibly. It’s going to be delicate. The person is part of her closest circle.”

“Keep working on them, and keep yer ears open. I need to ken what she’s up to with these Lathans.”

Chapter 6

Donal glanced up as the light coming through the windows in the great hall suddenly brightened the table where he sat eating his midday meal. Finally—the sun. It had still been snowing when he brought the lads in late from their training a little while ago. But the winds must’ve cleared the skies. Mayhap the storm had not been as severe as they thought and the pass remained clear. If it did, he’d best convince Jamie to head home before the next storm trapped them in this glen for the winter.

It was clearly unwise for him to remain. Ellie provided too much temptation. Worse, she remained bent on keeping him here, one way or another. Even though he meant it, he’d made a mistake last night, telling her she was important to him. It would raise hopes in her that he could not fulfill. And then there was the matter of her Sight. He shook his head. How could he trust in that? She could tell anyone anything at all to further her goals, true or not, and claim she’d seen it in a vision. How would he be able to believe her, until her vision came true?

Besides, his loyalty to clan Lathan ran deep. He’d made the Aerie his home, protecting it, doing the bidding of its laird, his friend, Toran Lathan, the purpose in his life. Despite Jamie’s assurances, he doubted the news would sit well with Toran if Donal remained here, whether as consort to the lovely MacKyrie laird or not.

Ellie entered the hall with a group of strange men. Donal remembered his manners and stood as soon as he saw her turn in his direction. The set of her shoulders and her high color did not bode well. What was going on?

She gestured to the oldest of the six, a gruff looking man at least a decade her elder judging by the silver at his temples and the girth of his middle, who had an arrogant tilt to his chin and narrow eyes. “Laird MacDuff, let me introduce ye to one of our honored guests. This is Donal MacNabb of Clan Lathan. Donal, please meet Lachlan MacDuff.”

He offered his hand to the MacDuff. If he had given Ellie reason to be on edge, Donal would be happy to see the back of him. Nonetheless, Donal would not embarrass Ellie in her own hall. “A pleasure, MacDuff.”

“I dinna ken the Lathans.” The man eyed him without returning the polite greeting, raising Donal’s hackles and confirming his first impression. “Where are ye from?”

Determined not to be the cause of more trouble in Ellie’s hall, Donal ignored the slight and lowered his hand. “The Lathan holding is deeper into the mountains, Laird. I’m no’ surprised ye dinna ken us.”

“Well, then,” the MacDuff replied, turning toward Ellie, “Laird MacKyrie and I have an alliance to discuss. Good day to ye.”

Donal managed not to raise an eyebrow as Ellie’s jaw dropped, but instead bent his head in acquiescence. When he looked up, the MacDuff led Ellie, grim-faced, away by her arm. She looked back at Donal. Had she brought the MacDuff to him in hopes of a rescue? He frowned, waiting for her to make her wishes clear, but she allowed the MacDuff to take her away.

Donal kept his gaze on them as MacDuff led Ellie to a seat by the fire, then pulled his chair close by hers and began to talk. While Donal could not make out the words, the man’s tone was cajoling. Ellie’s responses were clipped. She leaned away and crossed her arms every time the MacDuff leaned in toward her, trying to touch her. Was this one of the neighbors she’d spoken about—one determined to wed her to take control of her clan, her lands and her distillery? It looked that way. And Ellie did not look happy at all.

As Donal debated what to do about the situation, Jamie and Bram entered the hall. Donal waved them over, but kept his eye on the byplay near the hearth.

“What’s that about?” Jamie stayed on his feet next to Donal.

Donal shook his head. “I’m no’ sure, but I dinna like it. That’s the MacDuff. One of her neighbors, I’d wager.”

Bram perched on the table. “The MacKyrie looks uncomfortable.”

“More than uncomfortable, I think,” Jamie answered.

“Aye, angry. And afraid of the MacDuff,” Donal muttered. “Though she’s tryin’ her best to hide it.”

“And how is it ye’ve become acquainted with the lady’s moods?” Jamie teased, though he narrowed his eyes as he watched Ellie deal with the MacDuff.

Donal refused to dignify that with an answer.

“Should we do something?” Bram asked.

“Nay.” Jamie’s denial was firm and quick. “No’ unless the lady asks for our assistance. This is between MacKyrie and MacDuff.”

“She may no’ be able to ask us out loud.”

Donal nodded. Bram had a point. “Then we’ll watch carefully to make certain she remains unharmed.”

As much as Donal disliked Jamie’s pronouncement, he recognized the wisdom in it. They’d already been involved in one altercation in this hall, much to Ellie’s displeasure. They didn’t need another. Nor did they need to get in the middle of whatever was going on between the two lairds. If Toran were here...but nay, not even the Lathan laird would intercede without cause.

“Let’s have our meal,” Jamie advised. “We can keep watch from here. Look around ye. Her people are doing the same.”

“None of them are capable of fighting the MacDuff and his men, should it come to that,” Donal groused.

“Then let’s hope it doesna,” Jamie answered and took a seat, signaling to the serving lass.

Donal saw Ellie’s shoulders slump as the Lathans settled themselves at table, but she straightened her spine and kept up the discussion with the MacDuff. Donal’s instincts were raging at him to do something. But until Ellie asked for their involvement, they could do nothing that would disturb the peace of the hall—and perhaps start a war between the MacDuffs and the Lathans.

Finally, Ellie raised her voice. Donal sat up straighter, but Jamie gave him a look, so he settled back down.

“No’ yet, laddie,” Jamie warned in an undertone.

“Soon, though,” Donal replied. Bram nodded. Then Jamie did, too.

Ellie rose to her feet, though the MacDuff stayed in his chair. “I’ve done what is required by custom and good manners,” she said, making no effort now to keep her voice down. “But the weather has cleared. I think it’s time for ye and yer men to be on yer way back to MacDuff lands. There’s time before dark to get through the pass, so ye havena need to stay another night.”

Finally the MacDuff stood. His jaw clenched, but when he looked around and saw the Lathans watching, he must have thought better of what he intended to say. He grunted something Donal took as an agreement, because Ellie visibly relaxed.

“MacDuffs, to me,” he called out. As his men gathered around him, Ellie tensed again.

The Lathans stood as one man. Donal’s hand hovered near his dirk, but he quickly dropped his fist to his side when Jamie glared at him.

“Ye must cease yer suit,” Ellie said. “I’ll never marry ye, Lachlan. Ye waste yer time coming here. Why continue to risk the lives of yer men in the snow? Please dinna return.”

“Now that ye have hired some guards, ye think to keep me out?”

“I’ve done no such thing, Lachlan. These men are guests from far away. I’m merely pointing out the futility of yer suit. No’ for the first time.”

The MacDuff glared at the three Lathans but made no move toward them. Donal gave the man points for at least a modicum of common sense. “I’ll go, MacKyrie. But never doubt it. I’ll be back for ye.”

Ellie watched the MacDuff and his men stalk to the door and pass through it out into the bailey, slamming it shut with a thud that echoed from the rafters. Donal saw her chin lift, then she sighed, more than likely in relief the confrontation had concluded without bloodshed. Without another word, without a glance in the Lathans’ direction, she turned and left the hall.

Jamie let out a breath. “The lady has problems aplenty.”

****

Ellie hated the early darkness that came with late autumn and winter. They’d finished evening meal, but in summer, the sun would still be streaming through the solar windows, lightening the space and brightening her mood. Now the windows were black, without even moonlight to cast a glow in the sky and reflect off of the snow-covered ground outside.

Ellie occupied the laird’s seat, mulling, her mood as dark as the night outside. Events weighed upon her. The MacDuff was becoming more insistent. Ellie shuddered with distaste at the thought of him forcing her into marriage—and into his bed. Nay, his touch would be nothing like Donal MacNabb’s, of that she had no doubt. She didn’t have enough men to protect her should the MacDuff decide to act. Except the Lathans were here, and the sight of them watching had seemed to sway the MacDuff to leave quietly.

But Donal and the rest of the Lathans added to the complications she faced. Aye, she was thankful they’d come along to save Fergus and the lads, not to mention the whisky in the wagons. And cooled the MacDuff’s ardor, if indeed their presence had done so. But the opportunity they presented in their treaty came with a potential cost to the MacKyries, especially if she signed and then could not uphold her responsibilities. The penalty for failure was too high. It would break them. At least she could be sure that MacDuff was not one of the treaty clans. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d never met a Lathan until he’d treated Donal so rudely.

Jamie sat opposite her, where Donal had sat only last night before he’d stood to leave and she’d tried to entice him to stay with her. What a fool she’d been. A man of honor and great loyalty, Donal would not be so easily swayed. Of that she had no doubt. Jamie and the others clearly respected him. She could barely credit some of the tales Jamie had told her about him. The Lathan laird must value him highly.

That could not be good for her.

Jamie had approached her after supper and asked to speak to her. Had Donal told him about last night? If he had, would Jamie be angry? Perhaps Donal had changed his mind. Or perhaps Jamie was ready to order him to stay. She could hope he would, at least.

But so far, he’d only sipped the whisky she’d poured. That thought brought heat to her cheeks as she remembered pouring for Donal the evening before. And the effect the spirit had on them both. The sensation of being wrapped in a man’s arms, in Donal’s arms, savoring his heat and tasting the whisky on his tongue...they were most assuredly not what she should be thinking about right now. She risked a glance at Jamie, then blushed even hotter when she saw him watching her.

“Are ye well, lass?”

“Oh, aye. The whisky brings up the color in my face.”

“I see. ’Tis lovely, whatever the cause.”

His genial smile seemed meant to put her at ease, so she risked a small one of her own in return. She didn’t want to appear overly flattered and thereby have him suspect she was already in her cups. How unseemly that would be!

“I’d wager it has attracted many a man to court ye.”

Ellie’s heart stopped beating for a moment, then started again, a staccato pounding in her chest she feared Jamie would hear. Her eyes widened.

“Lass, I dinna mean to startle ye,” he continued and Ellie took a breath. She did not need that kind of attention from Jamie when she wanted it from Donal. “I only mean to say ye seem to have some tension with the MacDuff. Has he been persistent in his suit?”

“Oh, aye.”

“Persistent and unwelcome, I gather.”

“Aye.” Ellie took a sip and shuddered.

“How close by is his land?”

“Through the northwestern pass and another half day’s ride northeast from there.”