Rise (27 page)

Ember’s self-doubt dwindled as outrage spread through her veins. Alistair was enjoying making her suffer. Wrapping her arms around her waist and bowing her head, Ember feigned the submission Alistair doubtless wanted to see. In truth, she was holding herself back, longing to pummel his smug face.

Still addressing Father Michael, Bosque said, “I’ve had the pleasure of spending many hours with Agnes and have found her to be quite happy here. Do you think it worthwhile to even attempt reuniting her with a father who has already shown his disregard for her?”

Ember listened to Bosque speak of Agnes with rising alarm. He showed far too much interest in Agnes’s welfare, and Ember couldn’t puzzle out why her sister would be of any consequence to him.

“There is wisdom in your counsel, Lord Mar,” Father Michael answered. “But I am tasked to restore all lost sheep to the flock. Lord Morrow is quick-tempered and stubborn. He may well already regret his mistreatment of Agnes, but men too full of pride need help in righting the wrongs they’ve done. I would lend my aid to this cause and see the girl and her family reconciled.”

“I won’t send poor Agnes to a man who has abused her so,” Alistair told the priest. “She is in good health and spirits here. If he harangues her again for her condition, it could endanger the lady and her child.”

Father Michael bowed his head in assent. “Of course you’re right, Lord Hart. That is why I ask to go as envoy to make peace with Lord Morrow. And I would bring Ember with me to speak on behalf of her sister.”

“You want to take Ember to Mackenzie’s castle?” Eira leaned forward on the throne, like a hawk looking down at prey from its perch.

“I am little more than a stranger to Lord Morrow,” Father Michael said. “My words alone, I fear, cannot hope to soften his heart.”

“But—” Ember hesitated; she looked to Father Michael with a frown. The thought of leaving the keep was more than appealing, though Ember feared she would put heels to her mount and run to the coast without looking back.

“Say your piece, Ember,” Lady Eira ordered.

Keeping her eyes downcast to appear as timid as she could, Ember said, “I too would see my sister’s honor restored and my family’s wounds healed, but my own relations with my father are hardly ideal.”

Father Michael touched her arm. When she lifted her eyes to meet his, she found his smile mischievous. “You forget your own transformation, Lady Morrow. Your father raged his way out of Tearmunn because you pledged yourself to the Guard. Now you’ve forsaken that role.”

Ember nodded, and Father Michael said, “I remember that Lord Mackenzie once hoped you might become the wife of his son, Gavin. Perhaps that match could still be made, pleasing your father and Mackenzie.”

“No!” Alistair straightened, all the haughtiness draining from his face. With that single word, Ember knew that Alistair had concealed his true feelings for her. Her pulse jumped both with renewed fury and a thrill of resolve. By letting his mask slip in that moment, he affirmed Ember’s belief that she could make her way into his heart and thus be positioned to play a vital role when the moment of Eira’s downfall was at hand.

Bosque checked Alistair with a stern look. Recovering his composure, Alistair said, “Ember remains under suspicion for colluding with traitors. Do you think marrying her off and releasing her from Tearmunn is wise?”

“Forgive me, Lord Hart,” Father Michael replied, “but I’d been led to understand that Lady Morrow’s story had been verified by the Circle at Cernon. Are you questioning their assessment?”

Though she wanted to smirk, Ember kept her face blank. Alistair glared at the priest, but didn’t answer.

Father Michael took Ember’s hands in his. “Would you consider making peace with your father by offering to marry Mackenzie’s son and fulfilling his former wishes for you?” He squeezed her fingers tight, his gaze intent.

Ember’s eyes widened at Father Michael’s question. He’d planned for this moment, giving her an opening. Making them wait for her answer, Ember looked at her shoes and bit her lower lip while her fingers tangled together as if from anxiety.

“I would do this for my sister, if there is no other way.” With those words, she stole a glance at Alistair.

As she anticipated, his gaze was fixed on her, fearful and hungry. When their eyes met, Alistair’s lips parted, and he leaned forward as if he was about to come for her in that very moment.

Ember broke their gaze, returning to her timid pose.

“Lady Eira.” Father Michael released Ember’s hands and faced the throne. “Will you allow me to travel with Ember to Eilean Donan?”

When Eira hesitated, the priest added, “I’ve been told that a number of both the highland and lowland clan chiefs are assembled at the castle to settle disputes and discuss the succession. They offer a captive audience to which I could present the worthiness of your cause.”

“I can handle the clans myself,” Eira answered, her eyes narrowed.

“My lady, I have no doubt you can and will,” Father Michael replied. He gestured to the empty chairs at the Circle’s crescent table. “But you’ve sent the rest of the Circle as envoys into Europe and Asia. I would speak for you closer to home if you would name me as another of your messengers.”

Eira relaxed into her throne. “Very well, but I doubt you’ll meet with success. Lord Morrow is a boor of a man. You can’t travel without escort. Though I trust our brethren of Cernon, Lady Morrow’s recent trespasses still cast doubt upon her. I wouldn’t have you attacked on the road west and left for dead, Father.”

Ember had to hold her breath so she wouldn’t laugh at the suggestion that she could ever attack a man as good as Father Michael.

“I’ll accompany them.” Alistair had reassumed his disdainful attitude, but now that Ember knew his guise, she could look right through it. Still, she quickly averted her eyes and began to fidget as she had when he’d successfully undermined her sensibilities a week before. The more Alistair believed he was manipulating Ember, the better she could mold his actions to her own devices.

Father Michael took a step forward, lifting his hands imploringly as if begging for reprieve. “Lord Hart, I would not insult you, but consider this: we go to Lord Morrow in hopes of restoring his child. A daughter who has been shamed because of your brother’s actions.”

“I am not my brother,” Alistair answered through gritted teeth.

“No one has suggested you are,” Eira interjected. “But Father Michael is right. If you appear at Eilean Donan, all that will come of this is a brawl.”

Silenced by Eira’s judgment, Alistair went still, but his fists were clenched at his sides.

“I will serve as escort.” Cian stepped from the shadows beneath the gallery, and Ember swallowed a gasp. Her attention had been held so fully by the transformation of the hall and those who stood at its center that she had never noticed Eira’s sister lurking to the side of their conversation.

Cian approached Eira’s throne, giving a short bow. “Like Father Michael, I have not yet traveled as your envoy. I am happy to serve you thus now.”

Ember was surprised when it was Lord Mar who answered Cian. “There is a reason you have not been sent abroad.” His words carried more than the hint of an accusation.

Offering another stiff bow to Lord Mar, Cian said, “I have not adequately expressed my thanks for your patience regarding the oath.”

“My patience is not endless,” Bosque answered.

Eira raised her hand. “Stop this.” She turned to Bosque, and an unspoken agreement seemed to pass between them.

Addressing her sister, Cian continued, “The clan chiefs know me. And as your sister they will acknowledge my right to speak for you.”

Holding Cian in a speculative gaze, Eira finally said, “Yes.” She looked to Father Michael. “When do you travel?”

“If it pleases you, I would travel on the morrow at dawn,” Father Michael answered.

“Make your arrangements,” Eira told him, then said to Ember, “Speak with your sister of these things. If she wishes to return to her family and Lord Morrow assents to reclaim her, I will send her to him, but I will not force her to return to a family that cast her off unless she chooses to go.”

Ember nodded, taken aback by Eira’s willingness to protect Agnes. The words weighed heavy on Ember’s shoulders as she recalled why she had first admired Lady Eira. Though she could not understand the new course Eira plotted, Ember still saw the ferocity and determination that made Eira such a formidable warrior and exceptional leader.

“My lady.” Ember made a low and graceful curtsy. Before she turned away, she let her gaze flicker to Alistair one last time. He watched her, eyes intent.

LEAVING THE GREAT HALL
alone, Ember climbed the stairs slowly. With each step, her body felt more and more like it had been wrung out as clothes after washing. The stress of standing before Eira, Bosque, and Alistair, not knowing what they wanted of her, would have been enough, but new fissures in Ember’s resolve were opening.

The small glimpse of Eira’s former self had stirred Ember more than she wanted to admit. And witnessing the remnants of those characteristics Ember had envied in Eira provoked other memories she’d stored away. Memories of Alistair.

It was too easy to recall the joy she’d felt when he’d arrived at her father’s manor, surprising her in the very place he’d secretly instructed her in swordsmanship. Her hopes for rising in Conatus had been hopes for both of them. Ember had always imagined they would fight together and care for each other, not as lovers but as friends. She knew Alistair had felt betrayed when she’d rejected his professions of love, but to Ember it was Alistair who had played the traitor. Alistair’s desire for her forever altered their relationship. She could never return his feelings, and he would always resent her for that.

Though he had allied himself with Eira and Bosque, Ember couldn’t forget the boy she’d grown up with. A boy she still cared for and was loath to hurt. The sweet triumph she’d known when she realized Alistair still loved her now tasted rotten. Yes, Ember would be able to go forward with her plan—a strategy that Lukasz, Kael, Father Michael, Cian, and even Barrow deemed cunning—but she couldn’t stop the rising disgust she felt toward herself. Alistair’s love had been twisted by his jealousy. It wasn’t the love Barrow showed her; that rare passion that could only grow out of respect and admiration as well as the fire of attraction. But beneath the sullied layers of possessiveness and lust, Ember believed Alistair did love her. That love had spurred him to protect Agnes when most would have condemned her. Still, any warmth Ember felt toward Alistair was tempered by the likelihood that desire to protect his family name had also motivated him.

Nevertheless, that she must use Alistair’s love as an implement of war unsettled her deeply. And yet Ember could see no other path.

“There you are!” Agnes peeked out of her room and rushed to meet Ember. “I’ve been waiting for you all morning.”

“I was summoned to the great hall,” Ember told her. “Will you sit with me? I must speak with you.”

“Of course.” Agnes beamed at her younger sister. “Let me get my sewing.”

With a groan, Ember pushed through her chamber door, leaving it ajar for Agnes. She slumped into a chair, afloat in her growing self-pity.

Agnes closed the door behind her, settling into the chair beside Ember’s.

“You shouldn’t sit like that, Ember. It’s uncomely. And you’ll wrinkle your dress.”

“I know” was all Ember said.

Shaking her head in disapproval, Agnes returned to her sewing.

“I’m riding with Lady Cian and Father Michael to the coast tomorrow,” Ember told Agnes. “We’re going to Mackenzie.”

“At Eilean Donan?” Agnes’s fingers flew as she embroidered, carrying on the conversation without erring on a single stitch. “Why do you go there?”

“Father is there,” Ember said quietly.

Only a slight hitch in the rhythm of Agnes’s needle and thread indicated her distress. “Is he?”

“Father Michael wishes to plead your case to him,” Ember continued, watching Agnes closely. But Agnes didn’t look up. Her face remained a picture of calm. “So you can be restored to our family and return to Father’s estate.”