Child of the Mist (29 page)

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Authors: Kathleen Morgan

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Historical, #General, #Romance

BOOK: Child of the Mist
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Niall laid aside his dirk. He handed Anne her bed robe, then donned his. Climbing off the bed, he strode past his sister to close the door.

Then he rounded on her. "You will knock and await permission to enter this bedchamber from now on," Niall growled in a dangerously soft voice. "And you may pack your belongings post haste. You're paying your aunt a long visit in Edinburgh."

The defiance in Caitlin's eyes crumbled. "N-nay! How could you? Haven't I endured enough o'late to have you now all but banish me?"

The girl sank to her knees, weeping as if her heart would break.

Anne ran to Niall's side. If it were within her power, she'd not permit him to send another member of his family away because of her. In time, Anne knew, he'd come to resent her for it. She couldn't live with that between them. She clasped his arm, diverting his frowning attention from his sister.

"Niall," she beseeched him, "don't do this. She's but a child and overwrought with all that's happened. And she says naught that others don't say. Caitlin has but the courage to speak them to your face while others whisper behind their hands. You can't banish all your people. We must face the problem head on. Any other way would be cowardly."

"Respect for you must start somewhere, lass," he rasped, his eyes dark with pain. "And if I can't command it within my own family . . ."

She gave him a trembling smile. "I know, my love."

Anne squatted beside Caitlin and gently touched her shoulder. The girl jerked away and glared up at her. Anne sighed.

"I know you hate me," she began, "but for love o' your brother, can't you support him in his decision to handfast with me? These past few days have been hard for you, but they've been difficult for Niall as well. You're growing quickly to a woman. 'Tis time you begin to act like one."

Tear-filled turquoise eyes narrowed in anger. "Are you calling me a child?"

"What do you call your actions a few moments ago?" was the gentle rejoinder.

Caitlin wiped away her tears and rose. She squared her slender shoulders. "I don't like nor trust you."

"I know." Anne got to her feet. "But can't you trust your brother and his judgement?"

The black-haired girl shot Niall a pouting glare. "I know enough o' the power o' women over men to think he doesn't know his own mind in this."

"Was Niall so besotted with the Lady Anne Stewart that he didn't know his own mind? Did his love for her weaken his judgement?"

"Nay." Caitlin sniffed reluctantly.

"Then why should he be any less able because he's with me? If you recall, I'm not half the woman she was," Anne said, repeating Caitlin's own words.

"And you don't believe in witchcraft, so what other influence could I possibly have over him?"

Caitlin stepped back, her glance swinging from Anne to her brother. "Och, I don't know. It just seems that everything has turned sour since you arrived. And the talk doesn't help."

"And have you encouraged it?" Niall cut in.

His sister's head lowered. "Well, mayhap a little."

"I need your loyalty in this, Caitlin." Niall grasped her by the arms. "I am sore beset right now. If you, too, turn against me . . ."

Her eyes widened at the slight catch in his voice. "Och, Niall, I won't turn against you. I swear. You're my brother. We're family."

"Then you'll accept Anne?"

Caitlin's glance slid to hers. "Aye, accept her, but that is all. Don't ask me to be her friend."

"Damn you, Caitlin," Niall swore. "Why do you persist"

" 'Tis enough, Niall." Anne placed a hand on his arm. "Let it be."

His stormy countenance calmed as he gazed down at her. "Ever the peacemaker, aren't you, lass? You've had much to swallow since your arrival here. My clan hasn't met you even halfway. But soon that'll change. I swear it!"

She smiled up at him. "Aye, m'lord. That it will."

"N-Niall?" Caitlin's plaintive voice interrupted their warm glance.

Niall's gaze returned to his sister. "Aye?"

"Must I still go to Edinburgh?"

A dark brow arched. "I don't know. What do you think, Anne?"

Caitlin stiffened, her fierce pride stung at having her fate at Anne's mercy.

Anne gave the girl a gentle smile. "I think Caitlin would be happier here, among family and friends."

"Thank you, m'lady." Caitlin forced the words out through stiff lips, then bobbed a little curtsey.

Niall frowned, as the remembrance of the original intent of his sister's visit struck him. "You said the cattle have a murrain. How do you know this?"

"I was in the Great Hall when the head herdsman came rushing in. He Was very excited as he spoke to Duncan, and his voice carried throughout the hall. I fear the news is all over the castle by now."

"And the cause o' it?"

Caitlin averted her eyes. "They say 'tis witchcraft. Malcolm was there when the news was brought. He immediately raised a hue and cry, all but claiming 'twas Anne's doing. There's trouble afoot, brother."

Niall's face hardened with displeasure. "Aye, that there is."

He waved his sister toward the door. "You may go. I've plans to make."

They watched as Caitlin left. the room, then Niall turned to Anne. "This couldn't have come at a more inopportune time. The people will be stirred, fearful and angry." He gave a wry, self-mocking laugh. "And, in but another hour I,' in the midst o' all the rising witch panic, must defend my right to the chieftainship."

Anne's glance swept admiringly over Niall's tall, powerful form. She sighed. "I wish I could be there to stand at your side. How many will there be at the Chieftain's Council?"

Niall shrugged into the plaid jacket she held out for him. "With my family and the clan's higher lairds, about twenty men,"

"Twenty against one," Anne murmured in dismay.

He laughed and gave her an affectionate kiss before she slipped away to return with his plaid. "I'd prefer to think o' this as a friendly reconfirmation o' my father's wishes than a battle o'wills."

Anne busied herself draping the Campbell plaid over Niall's left shoulder, then fastened it to hang down his right side with a silver brooch engraved with the clan badge of wild myrtle. When finished with the task, she lifted her eyes to him.

''You'll have enemies there, and no mistake. Be careful."

Niall's gaze was tender. "I'll be careful, lass. Though we Scots are a hardheaded lot, 'twould still take severe misconduct on my part to negate my father's decision in this. And I think I'm man enough to handle a little dissension from my people."

"Aye, that you are." Anne managed a smile. "Man enough and more."

A hot look flared in Niall's eyes. "Have a care, lass. If you persist in talking like that, I'll have to shed all these clothes you've gone to such trouble to dress me in."

"And you know as well as I, 'tis time for you to leave."

Anne's glance swept over him one last time. Dressed in his doublet, trews, and white shirt beneath his plaid and jacket, Niall looked the consummate Highland warrior. The clothing clung to his powerful chest and shoulders, molded tightly to his muscular legs and thighs. Anne's heart swelled with pride.

He had the physical presence to be clan chief as well as the maturity and intelligence. They would be hard pressed to deny him his rightful position. Yet still, she worried.

There was an aura of impending doom hovering over Niall and it frightened her. No, terrified her, for the premonition of death and destruction seemed almost palpable. Anne opened her mouth to beg him not to go, then clamped it shut.

To ask Niall to turn his back upon his people was to ask him to stop his heart from beating or his lungs from inhaling the fresh Highland air. She as heiress to Clan MacGregor understood that better than most. Niall would not be the brave, proud warrior she loved and respected if he didn't face the dangers. But how she wanted to be with him! Wanted it, with all her heart, though knew it could not be.

Niall must face his clansmen alone. Her presence would only stir further resentment and speculation. But Anne's thoughts and all the strength of her love would go with him. Mayhap, in some small way, it would even the odds.

He stepped toward her. "I go off to fight the dragons," he teased huskily. "Mayhap a kiss from a bonnie lassie would send me on my way properly girded for battle."

" 'Tis an honor and more, m'lord," Anne teased back, rendering him a small curtsy.

Then, before he could respond, she moved close to cup his smooth-shaven jaw. Lifting on tiptoe, she planted a gentle kiss on his firm, sensually molded lips.

Niall gathered her to him, forcing her soft curves against the full length of his hard-muscled body. "I had more than a genteel peck on the lips in mind," he growled, and lowered his head toward her.

His tongue flicked over her lips, teasing, then urging them apart. He plunged inside, hungrily exploring her mouth. His kiss deepened, all but consuming her. Anne went limp in his arms, clinging desperately to his jacket for support.

Niall raised his head, an arrogant smile on his lips. "I wanted you to remember me, should I mayhap die in battle. Think you, I've left a lasting memory?"

"Aaye," Anne breathed, barely able to force the words past her constricted throat. "That you have, m'lord."

"Good." He released her and stepped back.

"Niall." Anne stayed him, her hand lifting to lay upon his chest.

"Aye, lass?"

"Your request earlierthat I not speak to nor be alone with lain."

He went still. "Aye?"

"I give you my promise."

An aching gentleness flared in his compelling eyes. "Thank you, lass." His big hand covered hers. "I don't know anymore if I should have asked it, or if I even deserve your sacrifice in this, but I accept your offer nonetheless. It means a lot to me, especially at a time like this."

" 'Tis all I can do, as little as 'tis."

A wry grin quirked his mouth. "Och, there's a lot you can do for me." His glance strayed to his huge bed. "I'll expect you awaiting me there."

The poignant moment dissipated in the sudden turn of the conversation. Anne considered him briefly. "Well, we'll have to see about that," she began, the hint of a mischievous smile glimmering on her lips. "Mayhap I will, and mayhap I won't. I haven't quite decided."

"Well, take this time then to decide. And I'll see you on my bed when I return."

Niall turned and strode across the room.

"Disgusting, rutting stag," Anne's amused voice followed him to the door.

He paused to give a shout of laughter then, without a backward glance, opened the door and disappeared down the corridor.

Anne returned to her own bedchamber to find Agnes tidying the room. She flushed at the realization the old maid must have guessed what had transpired between her and Niall last eve, then brushed it aside. The blood-stained sheets on Niall's bed would have soon given it away, even if Agnes had not been awaiting her here.

She only hoped the news when it spread though the castle would not stir further hostility against her. Coupling to ascertain if there was sexual compatability was one of the primary purposes of a handfasting. But if Caitlin's reaction were any indication, Anne doubted the castle folk would greet this news with much joy.

Agnes bobbed a curtsy as Anne approached. "Good morrow, m'lady." A knowing, happy light gleamed in her eye. "Did ye sleep well?"

"Aye, Agnes," Anne replied. "I slept well indeed."

She paused, a small frown puckering her brow.

"What is it, m'lady?" the old maidservant asked in concern.

"Och, naught." Anne shook her head and sighed. "I'll just feel better when the Chieftain's Council is over. I am the cause of such animosity here. I wouldn't want that to harm Niall's chances for the chieftainship."

"The young lord can well handle the fools in that room," Agnes staunchly defended him. "He'll win them over, and no mistake."

"Most likely." Anne sighed. "But, still, I wish I could be there to know the charges they bring against me."

"They could be hard to hear, m'lady."

"Aye, but the knowledge might aid my efforts to win them over. I must know what's in their hearts if I've any hope o' changing them."

"There
is
a way," the old woman offered.

Anne's gaze riveted on her. "What are you saying? Is there a chance I could overhear the council meeting?"

Agnes nodded. " 'Tis a secret, one the young lord doesn't even know about. A hidden tunnel runs from the chamber to the storerooms. From there, another tunnel leads to the outside. 'Twas devised for escape in times o' battle."

Anne could barely contain her excitement. "Would you lead me to it? I swear I'd never reveal the secret, save perhaps to Niall, and 'twould help in learning the charges against me. I only ask this in the hope o' aiding Niall."

Hesitation flickered momentarily in the maidservant's eyes. Then, she nodded. "Aye, lass. I'll help ye, but no one must learn o' this. Not for a time, at least."

"Then let us be gone." Anne gathered up her cloak. "There's not a moment to spare."

Few noticed their passage through the castle, for Kilchurn was abuzz with preparations for the evening feast to celebrate Niall's confirmation as chief. Anne knew Niall had ordered things be carried out as if his new rank was a foregone conclusion, fully aware any show of uncertainty would weaken him in the eyes of the council. He had planned for everything, from the feast to the magnificence of his dress, but the true battle had yet to begin in a war of words as Niall defended his right to be chief.

The tunnel leading from the storeroom was musty and dark and strewn with cobwebs. They stumbled along without a torch, for Agnes had said the approaching light might be discovered through the narrow vents on the secret panel separating the council chamber from the hidden corridor. Finally, Agnes gripped Anne's arm, pulling her to a halt.

"The chamber is just up ahead," she whispered. "The tunnel now narrows so only one may pass at a time. Go ahead. I'll await ye here."

Anne gave the old woman a quick hug. "Thank you,' Agnes."

" 'Tis naught, lass. I'll do anything for ye and the young lord." She gave her a small push forward.

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