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Authors: Debbie Mazzuca

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BOOK: King of the Isles
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“What?” She flattened her palms on his chest and pushed.
Captured in her violet gaze, he lost his train of thought. In an act of self-preservation, he dropped his hands to his sides and took a step away from her. The blasted woman was driving him mad. “What ... what? Ye accuse me of all manner of stupidity, take me to task in front of my subjects, then seek to instruct me on managing my affairs, and ye have the nerve to ask me ... what!” He’d tried to keep his voice low but failed miserably in the attempt.
She thrust out her chin. “You know as well as I do that Fallyn and her sisters are the better choice.”
“That may well be, but there are ways to handle matters that do not add fuel to the fire. But ye doona ken the first thing aboot bein’ diplomatic, do ye?”
“I can be as diplomatic as the next person.”
He snorted. “Ye’re aboot as diplomatic as a priest in a kirk full of sinners.”
“But you were going to—”
“’Tis no’ yer place to tell me what to do. My uncle allows ye to, but ye’re in my kingdom now, no’ his.”
She scowled at him. “While you are charming Erwn and Bana into ceding to your wishes, I shall retrieve Fallyn and her sisters.”
Bloody hell, there was no reasoning with the woman. He scrubbed his hand over his face. “They’re no’ here at the moment.”
She narrowed her gaze on him. “Where are they?”
The last thing he wanted to do was tell her where they were. She already thought him incapable of ruling his kingdom. Not that her opinion of him mattered. But once she learned Fallyn and her sisters were at his home on Lewis, he’d never hear the end of it. She’d know—as it had happened on previous occasions—that the women had taken offense to something he’d said or done. He couldn’t readily recall what had been the cause of their discontent this time.
Oh, aye, now he remembered, they’d gotten it into their heads to open a school to train women in warfare and he’d refused their request. Lachlan imagined the three sisters were at that very moment pleading their case to Syrena. It wouldn’t do them any good. The men would revolt if he ceded to their wishes.
“You’ve done it again, haven’t you?”
“What are ye talkin’ aboot?”
“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not talking your way out of this. I’m going to Lewes.” With a haughty toss of her raven tresses, she stalked past him.
He scowled after her, throwing up his hands when she walked past the little seer without so much as a second look. “Ye canna leave the bairn. I have too much to do to prepare fer the journey.”
She came to an abrupt halt. Head bowed, her shoulders rose as if she took a deep breath and then she turned and walked back to Aurora. “I won’t be long. You stay with King Lachlan. And you,” she pointed her finger at him, “keep a close eye on her. You’ve already managed to lose one wizard. We can’t afford to lose another.”
His subjects, who’d been listening to their exchange, gaped at her charge. Blood rushed to Lachlan’s face. For the umpteenth time since the blasted woman had strode into his State Room, his control over his temper snapped. Lachlan never lost his temper, and the fact she could make him do so only added to his fury. “Evangeline, come back here,” he demanded to her retreating back.
He reached her in two strides and took hold of her arm. “That’s it, ye go too far.” He lowered his mouth to her ear, not wanting Aurora to hear what he said. “I’m no’ a bloody nursemaid. Ye’ll take the child to either Uscias’s cottage or my uncle’s palace.”
She whirled on him. “Will you cease grabbing me?”
“I wouldna have to if ye would stay in one place and stop makin’ a fool of me in—”
“Me? Oh, no
, Your Highness
, you do that quite well on your own.”
She tried to struggle out of his grasp, but he held firm. “This matter has naught to do with ye and ye’re wastin’ my time.”
Glaring at him, she flicked her finger.
A blast of fiery heat shot through his hand. He wrenched it from her arm, no more able to contain his anguished moan than he was to stifle the memories the searing pain evoked. At Glastonbury, Lamont had taken maniacal pleasure in holding a burning blade to Lachlan’s flesh. He slowly lifted his gaze to hers. “Doona ever do that to me again.” Ice-cold fury leaked into his voice. She gasped, taking a step back.
As though she realized she’d pushed him too far, she continued to walk backward. “I ... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ...”
“Nay, ye shouldna have.” He stalked her, his anger blinding him to his surroundings.
She held up her hands. “I said ...” Her eyes widened and she fell into the pool.
Cool water splashed onto his face and robes, dampening his fury. Nervous giggles broke the tension in the room when Evangeline swam to the surface, and spurted water from her mouth. Fighting to contain his laughter, Lachlan leaned over and offered his hand. She slapped it away, hauling herself from the pool. Her dripping purple robes clung to her lush curves and Lachlan found himself searching for something to cover her with. From beneath her long lashes, she surveyed the now laughing men and women. With a disdainful sniff, she turned on her heel and walked stiff-backed from the room, leaving puddles behind her.
He winced, recognizing her attempt to cover her hurt and embarrassment with contempt. She truly was driving him mad. One minute he wanted to throttle her and in the next to comfort her and shield her from the Faes’ derision.
“Your Highness, may I suggest—” Bana began.
Lachlan shifted his gaze from Evangeline to Bana and Erwn. Aurora stood between them, staring sympathetically after Evangeline. “I’m goin’ to seek my uncle’s counsel. Aurora.” He held out his hand. “I willna be long.”
It was only when they’d left the State Room that Lachlan realized without Uscias he had no way of transporting himself to his uncle’s palace. He wasn’t like the other Fae. For the most part it didn’t bother him, but he didn’t relish the idea of asking Erwn or Bana for assistance. To do so would further weaken his standing in their eyes, and Evangeline had undermined his authority enough for one day. He felt the same sense of powerlessness he had when Ursula and Lamont had him at their mercy.
Aurora drew him from his self-indulgent musings with a tug on his hand. “Where’s Nuie?” she asked.
“Nuie?”
“Your sword.”
He chuckled at the name she’d christened his lethal blade with. A sword that could take down Fae or Mortal in a single blow—a sword that imbued him with enough power and magick to quiet any of his detractors. The thought raised his spirits, although even his blade didn’t imbue him with enough magick to transport himself. He cast a speculative eye on the child. “Aurora, do ye think ye’d be able to transport us to my uncle’s?”
She nodded. “Uscias told me if ever he couldn’t be here to assist you, I was to look after you.”
Oh, aye, just what he wanted to hear, his mentor had appointed him an eight-year-old nursemaid. He was thankful Evangeline was not within earshot. He scowled at the mere thought of the woman, then caught sight of Aurora’s wounded expression. He lifted her into his arms. “All right, my wee wizard, let’s go and collect my sword.”
She returned his smile. He noted the change in her eyes just as she brought a hand to his face. He jerked back, trapping her fingers with his. “Oh, no, ye doona. I’ve heard all aboot yer talents.”
The last thing he needed was someone poking around in his head.
Chapter 4
A black cat—hair standing on end—screeched past Lachlan as he entered his childhood home in the Mortal realm on his return from Rohan’s palace. He quirked a brow as his brother Aidan crossed the hall to greet him.
“Syrena?” Lachlan asked, referring to his sister-by-marriage’s habit of terrifying the animal.
“Nay, Evangeline.” Amusement crinkled his brother’s silver-gray eyes. “And if I were ye, I’d be followin’ his lead.”
Lachlan scowled at the mention of his nemesis. “Where are they?”
“In Syrena’s solar. Plottin’ yer demise, if I’m no’ mistaken. What have ye done this time?”
From where he stood a few feet from the base of the curved oak staircase, Lachlan could see through the banister on the upper level to the closed door of Syrena’s solar. He shook his head at the thought of them in there scheming against him.
“Nothin’,” he muttered. Then, with a resigned sigh, he returned his attention to his brother. “Evangeline thinks ’tis my fault Uscias was abducted.” At Aidan’s look of surprise, Lachlan frowned. “Did she no’ tell ye?”
“Do I look daft? I wasna goin’ anywhere near the five of them, worked up as they are. Do ye ken who took him?”
“Magnus.”
His brother’s features tightened, a muscle jumping in his clenched jaw. Aidan had fought the king of the Far North when Magnus thought to claim Syrena as his bride. “Why?”
“They’ve been tryin’ to get a hold of our Hallows to even the playin’ field, but to hear Evangeline tell it, ’tis on account of me refusin’ to wed his sister Jorunn.”
“He wants ...” His brother stopped, his eyes widening as he looked beyond Lachlan. “What the hell happened to ye, Gavin?”
Lachlan glanced over his shoulder and groaned. His brother’s man-at-arms and childhood companion, covered from head to toe in muck with only the whites of his eyes visible, dragged Aurora into the keep behind him. Anxious to be gone from Lewes before Evangeline became aware of his presence, Lachlan hadn’t noticed the bairn wasn’t with him. He should’ve realized when he met Gavin in the courtyard upon their arrival that Aurora would remain out of doors. Whenever the child accompanied Uscias and Lachlan to his home in the Isles, she took impish delight in tormenting his brother’s friend.
“She tossed me in with the pigs. Fer all she looks like a wee angel, she’s a demon.”
Lachlan grabbed the hand the blond cherub raised. “Aurora,” he said sternly. “Ye ken better. Ye’re no’ supposed to use yer magick in the Mortal realm.”
“I was just playing with him.” She turned an innocent smile on Lachlan.
“I’m no’ a bairn’s toy,” Gavin bristled.
“Aurora, apologize and clean him up.” Lachlan supposed he should take her to task for tormenting Gavin, but his relief at seeing a return of her playful nature after what Magnus had put her through held him in check.
“But, Your Highness, you just said I shouldn’t use my magick in the Mortal realm.”
He wondered if women were born knowing how to turn a man’s words against him. Or mayhap the bairn had been spending too much time in Evangeline’s company.
“Aurora,” he said in an exasperated tone.
She waved her hand. Too late, Lachlan caught her mischievous grin on the last wiggle of her fingers. A dark cloud formed over Gavin’s head, then opened up to drown him in a deluge of water.
Gavin stood sputtering in the heavy downpour, a puddle of mud forming beneath his now-soaked boots. With a furious glare at Aurora, he turned on his heel to stride from the hall, muttering about demonic faeries—the dark cloud following in his wake.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Lachlan forced a stern expression onto his face to look down at the giggling bairn standing beside him. His brother covered his amused chuckle with a cough.
Aurora sighed, flicking her fingers in Gavin’s direction. The cloud disappeared, his tunic and trews now clean and dry. With a sweet smile, she looked up at his brother. “May I go and play with baby Ava, Lord Aidan?”
Lachlan noted his brother’s hesitation and couldn’t say he blamed him. Ava, Aidan and Syrena’s two-year-old had, much to his brother’s chagrin, displayed an aptitude for magick when only a few months old.
“Aye, if ye promise no’ to show her any of yer wee tricks,” his brother said.
“Oh, I don’t need to teach her any tricks, Lord Aidan. Baby Ava’s magick is almost as powerful as mine.”
Aidan ran a frustrated hand through his jet-black hair. “Just what I wanted to hear,” he muttered. Aurora, well acquainted with the castle, headed for Ava’s chambers.
Lachlan understood his brother’s worry. “Has she been transportin’ herself again?”
“Nay, Lewes has been warded so she canna manage
that
anymore.”
“Ah, Aidan, no’ to cast aspersions on yer wife, but if ’twas Syrena who—”
His brother snorted a laugh. “Nay, if my bonny wife had cast the spell there’s no tellin’ what would’ve happened. Evangeline saw to it.”
Lachlan grunted at the mention of the raven-haired beauty. “Right.” He clapped a hand to his brother’s shoulder in farewell. “I’ll see ye when I get back from the Far North,” he said as he turned to leave.
Aidan grabbed him by the arm. “’I think ye’re fergettin’ somethin’. Since ye’re goin’ after Uscias, ye’ll be needin’ to take Fallyn and her sisters with ye.”
“And why would I be doin’ that? Ye canna—”
“Yer Highness,” Beth interrupted with a laugh as she made her way up the stairs carrying a silver tray piled high with iced cakes. Their longtime housekeeper thought it amusing that the lad whose trews she’d once mended was now a king. Like the servants in both his brother’s and cousin’s castles, only the most loyal knew of Lachlan and Syrena’s Fae heritage. It would be dangerous if more than a trusted few shared their secret.
Lachlan lowered his voice to call after her, “Ah, Beth, doona be mentionin’ my presence when ye deliver Syrena her sweets.”
She stopped midway, leveling a speculative look at him over her shoulder. “And what would my silence be worth to ye, Yer Highness?”
“Are ye blackmailin’ me again? To be sure, ye must have more jewels than Queen Anne thanks to me.”
“Ah, well, if ye’re no’ willin’ to part with a wee bauble ...”
“Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll bring yer
bauble
next time I’m home.” He wasn’t about to tell her he’d pay far more than a bauble to keep Evangeline from learning of his presence before he made it back to the Fae realm to meet up with Gabriel and Broderick. The two men had offered their assistance in rescuing Uscias, and Lachlan had tarried too long as it was. He’d only meant to deliver Aurora into Evangeline’s safekeeping.
His uncle, assuming Evangeline would be accompanying Lachlan to the Far North, had volunteered Morfessa to watch over the little seer. After witnessing the wizard’s treatment of his daughter, Lachlan had no intention of letting the man anywhere near the bairn. Rohan and his wizard could see to the Enchanted Isles in his absence, but he would trust only Evangeline to care for Aurora.
He felt a moment of trepidation at the thought of leaving Evangeline on her own, but then reminded himself it was none of his concern. Thinking on her powers, his worries seemed foolish. But he couldn’t shake the image of her that day at Rohan’s court—the stark pallor of her face and the fear shadowing her violet gaze. Her vulnerability had struck a chord in him and, despite his quarrel with her earlier, his need to protect her had not abated.
His brother watched him. “’Tis obvious yer mind’s made up where the women are concerned, but I wish ye’d reconsider.”
“Why? Ye feel the same as I do aboot women in battle.”
“Aye, I do. But this is different. Ye doona have magick, Lan, and ye have no’ commanded yer army long enough to ken who ye can trust and who ye canna. I’d feel better kenning the ones that had yer back.”
Lachlan snorted. “Guard my back? They’re just as likely to put a blade in it. Ye doona ken them, Aidan. They’ll question my every command and they’ll no’ care who hears them do so.”
“Nay, ye ken as well as I they’d protect ye. Ye’re Syrena’s brother-by-marriage. As to them underminin’ yer authority, ye’ll—”
Delighted squeals interrupted Aidan. At the top of the stairs, Ava bounced excitedly in Aurora’s arms.
“Aurora.” Lachlan urgently waved his arms at the little seer. “Take her back to her chambers. Now.”
“Lan ... Lan,” Ava shrieked, putting out her arms to him, clapping her wee hands.
He cursed when the door to Syrena’s solar opened. “Lachlan MacLeod, get your sorry self up here this instant.”
Turning on his laughing brother, he said, “Ye see what I’m sayin’. Fallyn and her sisters are as bad as Syrena. She shouldna be bossin’ me around anymore. I’m a bloody king, fer Chrissakes.”
“Good luck with that. I’ll see—”
“Nay.” He hauled Aidan after him. “If I have to go, so do ye. I doona have time to spare, so ye’d best help me make my excuses to yer wife.”
Evangeline couldn’t believe Lachlan had taken time from his preparations to come to the Mortal realm. He truly had no sense. Without Uscias to guide him, he was obviously at a loss and she felt she had no choice but to offer her counsel. A heated flush worked its way from her chest to her cheeks at the memory of their earlier altercation. She waved a cooling hand in front of her face. She would not allow him to see her discomfiture. An image of her dragging herself from the pool to the sound of the Faes’ derisive laughter taunted her until she remembered why she’d fallen into the water in the first place.
She closed her eyes at the memory of the tortured pain in Lachlan’s eyes. If she hadn’t allowed her temper to get the better of her, she never would’ve shot the bolt into his hand. She knew what had been done to him, she’d seen his scars.
She shook off her guilt. The damage had been done and, she reminded herself, she had apologized. Evangeline
never
apologized—to anyone, ever.
Lachlan entered Syrena’s solar with his niece in his arms. His brother followed behind with Aurora’s hand in his. It never ceased to amaze Evangeline how comfortable Lachlan was with Ava. Fae men had little patience with children. Then again, the king of the Enchanted Isles was only half-Fae, or perhaps she admitted, her relationship with Morfessa tainted her observations.
“Syrena.” He leaned down to kiss her best friend’s cheek in greeting, avoiding Fallyn and her two sisters’ pointed stares. “Ah, mayhap ye should sit down.” He glanced uncomfortably at Syrena’s swollen belly.
Her friend wrinkled her turned-up nose. “You sound just like your brother.” She reached up to peel her daughter’s arms from Lachlan’s neck, ignoring Ava’s whiny protest. “Oh, don’t fuss. You’ll see your uncle later.”
Keeping a firm grip on Ava’s hand, Syrena leaned over to retrieve several of the delicate pastries from the tray and wrap them in a napkin. “Off you go now,” she said, handing Aurora the cakes. The little seer happily took Ava and the cakes and left the room.
Aidan cast an amused smile at his wife. “Are ye certain ye’re well, my love? ’Tis no’ often ye’ll share yer sweets.”
Syrena rolled her eyes, then lowered herself awkwardly onto the blue velvet settee. “Lachlan.” She patted the spot beside her. “Sit, I’ll wrench my neck if I continue to look up at you.”
Lachlan shot his brother a sour look. With an almost imperceptible shrug of his shoulder, Aidan leaned against the dark-paneled wall, arms folded over his broad chest. No matter how aggravating the two men were, Evangeline couldn’t help but admire their masculine beauty. Lachlan was as fair as his brother was dark. Both were big and powerfully built, and possibly the most arrogant men she’d ever met. And that said a lot, considering she was Fae.
When Lachlan finally deigned to join Syrena on the settee, his sister-by-marriage said, “Evangeline tells me Magnus has taken Uscias. What are we going to do about it?”
“
We
are no’ goin’ to be doin’ anythin’ aboot it, I am. Yer father and Morfessa,” his amber gaze passed briefly over Evangeline, “will be seein’ to the Isles in my absence. Broderick and Gabriel have offered their assistance in retrieving Uscias.”
From where she stood in front of the stone fireplace, Evangeline glanced across the room to where Fallyn sat stiffly erect between her two sisters. She wondered how her friend would feel about seeing Broderick, her ex-betrothed, again. Fallyn gave nothing away—her fine-boned features remained composed.
“Good.” Syrena patted his knee. “And with Fallyn, Shayla, Riana, and Evangeline with you—”
“Nay, I’m no’ takin’—” He released a long-suffering sigh when the three sisters came angrily off the settee across from him.
“I’m leaving!” Shayla said. With a toss of her long auburn locks, she stormed from the solar. Evangeline was surprised that was all she did. Shayla had a fiery temper and had little patience with men. From what she’d heard, the woman had suffered terribly at the hands of her husband, Dimtri. Broderick had rescued her from the king of the European Fae several years ago, but the abuse had left its mark. Riana, the youngest of the three, glared at Lachlan, then hurried after her sister.
BOOK: King of the Isles
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