Devil in a Kilt (17 page)

At
the thought of such a possibility, Linnet tightened her grip on Robbie's hand
and silently thanked Dundonnell's smithy for his gift... and his foresight.

Then
she spotted Duncan. He stood in the green shadows where the footpath reentered
the wood. Her relief upon seeing him was so great her knees fair gave out on
her. The rapid pounding of her heart took on another meaning, too, for never
had her husband appeared more handsome.

Minus
his black mail and permanent scowl, and with the MacKenzie plaid slung proudly
over his bare shoulder, the sight of him stole her breath away. Faith, he was
even smiling at her.

"Praise
the saints!" She dashed forward, pulling Robbie behind her. Mauger barked
fiercely, but Linnet was blind and deaf to all save the magnificent-looking man
before her.

All
the conflicting feelings he stirred in her vanished in the face of the sheer
terror that had consumed her mere moments before. Naught mattered except the
comforting reassurance of his presence. "Sir," she called, nigh
breathless, " ‘Tis glad I am to see you!"

Robbie
tugged fiercely on her hand and the force of his strength surprised her.
Spinning around to face him, she almost lost her balance. " ‘Tis your
father, lad, do you not see him? There, by the path?"

The
boy shook his head, edging backwards and trying to pull her with him. "He
isna my papa. ‘Tis
him...
the bad one. ‘Tis Uncle Kenneth."

Linnet's
heart plummeted, and the terror returned, more ominous than before. Turning
slowly around, she saw that the smiling man who could pass for Duncan
MacKenzie's twin had left the cover of the trees and came stealthily toward
them.

Still
smiling, and still heartstoppingly handsome, much more so than her battle-worn
and grim-faced husband could ever hope to be, but evil to the core.

His
true nature was frighteningly apparent because, now that he'd stepped into the
sunlight, Linnet clearly saw a sickly greenish black glow shimmer all around
his body before it flared and disappeared.

A
shudder skittered down her spine. She'd seen that shade only once before and
had hoped never to see it again.

Unlike
the darkness of despair she'd glimpsed once or twice about her husband, the
dark marring Kenneth MacKenzie's beauty was the mark of an evil man.

A
murderer.

"The
lad doesna want to believe it, but he is mine," Kenneth MacKenzie said,
pausing to fold his arms in a gesture that perfectly mirrored the favored
stance of his half brother. "And you can only be the lady Linnet? I was
told my brother had married a... healer, but no one informed me of your beauty,
milady."

He
made her a gallant bow. "Kenneth MacKenzie, at your service," he said
with a silky tone and a knowing smile that didn't quite touch his dark blue
eyes. "‘Tis good fortune indeed to make your fair acquaintance since
Duncan did not extend me the courtesy of an invitation to your wedding."

"I
am sure he had his reasons for not doing so," Linnet stated as calmly as
she could. Beside her, Mauger growled his displeasure. His hackles rose again
and he bared his teeth menacingly, but made no attempt to attack, only to
protect and defend.

Linnet
tightened her grip on the dagger she kept hidden in the folds of her gown.
"You will excuse us. My husband's guardsmen await our return."

"Not
if they're sleeping as soundly as the one I passed on the footpath. ‘Twas the
tongueless Thomas, I believe. He may have been coming for you, but it seems the
overgrown lad walked into a tree."

The
corners of his mouth twitched as if he meant to laugh, and he raised a hand to
rub his chin. "At least I canna think of another reason for the nasty lump
I saw on his forehead."

Fear
tightened Linnet's chest, but she forced herself to remain calm. Her sixth
sense told her their lives depended on her keeping her wits. "Then we
must bid you good day and be on our way so I can assist Thomas back to the
cart."

"Ah,
but ‘tis such a fine afternoon," Kenneth lamented, coming closer.
"Surely you willna deny me a visit with my own son?"

Ignoring
him, Linnet yanked Robbie closer and made to rush past the man, but he whistled
sharply and a band of unsmiling, filthy men stepped from the trees around the
clearing, successfully blocking any path of escape she'd hoped to take.

Kenneth
smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "My men dinna mean any harm, milady,
but you'll understand they ken how much I've been missing my wee lad
here."

"You're
not my papa!" Robbie shouted, balling his fists and struggling to break
free of Linnet's grasp. "I'm not yours!"

"Of
course, you are," Kenneth fair crooned, the wild light in his eyes warning
Linnet he wasn't right in his head. "Just look at you, full of fire and
ready to fight. Were you Duncan's get, you'd be cowering behind Lady Linnet's
skirts, hiding the way my brother hides behind the walls of his keep."

White-hot
anger shot through Linnet with the speed of a lightning bolt, chasing away her
fear. "And I say ‘tis the mark of a coward who'd slander a man afore his
wife and young son. Or would you spew such lies in the face of my lord
husband?"

Kenneth
steepled his fingers and brought them to his chin. "Ah ... I see you've
fallen under his spell. My late father suffered the same affliction, I'm
afraid. Ne'er could he see my brother's shortcomings whilst my own were e'er
falling from his tongue."

"My
sympathies. Now step aside and let us pass," Linnet demanded, whipping out
her dagger. "If you do not, you'll give me no choice but to plant my blade
between your eyes."

Kenneth
threw back his head and laughed. "What-ho! ‘Tis not only the lady's tongue
what be sharp. So you would threaten me with your dirk?"

"Nay,
Sir Kenneth, ‘tis not threatening you I am," Linnet said, dragging Robbie
behind her. " ‘Tis
warning
you what I'll do if you do not cease
accosting us."

A
look of fierce anger flashed across his handsome face, but it vanished almost
instantly as he swept low in another courtly bow. When he straightened, he wore
a wolfish grin.

"You've
no need to wax noble with me,
Lady
Linnet, for I canna claim the title
of
sir.
My father, rest his soul, did not see the need to bestow
knighthood upon me. Nor will any other noble capable of performing the deed. I
bear the stigma of being baseborn, you see." He paused and flung his arms
up in the air as if for emphasis. "It matters naught, though, for an
adubbement as knight isn't necessary for a man to be chivalrous."

"And
it'll matter less after I take aim at you," Linnet shot back. "
'Twill be hard to appear gallant with the hilt o' my dagger protruding from the
top of your nose."

Kenneth
laughed again, a full-bodied, rich kind of masculine laughter that would have
made her laugh, too, did his mirth reach his eyes ... and if her gift hadn't
let her look deep into the depths of his twisted soul.

"
'Protruding from the top o' my nose,' you say?" he roared, bending
backward in his levity. "I vow that snarling beast at your side poses a
greater threat. Fair lady, if you can land your blade anywhere within an arm's
length of where I stand, you, the lad, and his hell-dog, may leave this place
unhindered."

His
fingers caressed the hilt of his own dagger, tucked jauntily beneath a wide
leather belt. "Or mayhap I shall relieve you both of the wretched hound
now? The cur's barking sorely annoys me."

"And
if I can slice off a lock of your hair, will you give me your word that we—all
three of us—may leave here unharmed?" Linnet challenged him, hiding her
fear that he'd harm Robbie's pet behind bold words, instinctively aware she
must concede to his image of himself as a gallant if they hoped to gain a safe
retreat.

"A
lock of my hair?" His black brows shot heavenward. "Lady, if you can
do that, you shall have my solemn word."

"Then
pray choose the lock of your choice and hold it high."

An
expression very much like admiration curved his lips in a smile that would've
been irresistibly seductive to any other woman. Without taking his gaze off
her, he raised his hand and lifted a portion of thick black hair from the top
of his head.

"Take
aim, but be warned," he said, his voice smooth as sun-warmed silk,
"if you lose, I shall demand a kiss."

"I
never lose," Linnet countered. "My brothers taught me well."

Concentrating,
she focused her gaze on the man who looked so like her husband she almost had
second thoughts about throwing a knife at him. But he wasn't Duncan. He was a
man whose envy and warped logic made him capable of unspeakable acts of
treachery.

The
colors of the darkness she'd glimpsed clinging to him when he'd first stepped
from the trees revealed his true nature beyond a doubt.

The
thought of Robbie falling into his hands was beyond unbearable. The lad's
grief should harm befall his beloved dog, a cruelty she must attempt to spare
him. Her heart, too, would ache should Kenneth make good his threat against
Mauger. She had no choice but to defend them all as best she could.

Grateful
to Ranald for training her in the art of knife throwing, and to the saints for
giving her the patience to learn, Linnet sent a quick prayer skyward, asking
the divine powers to guide her hand.

Then
she took a deep breath, narrowed her eyes, and let her dagger fly.

It
seemed the blade had no sooner left her fingers, then a collective gasp erupted
from Kenneth MacKenzie's men and
he
stood gaping at her, one hand
clamped atop his head. Then he bent and scooped up her knife ... and his lock
of hair... from the ground at his feet.

He
stood for a moment, staring down at the two items in his hands, then turned his
gaze on her. This time there could be no mistake about the admiration in his
eyes. A look of sheer amazement replaced his flamboyant smile.

"You
kept your word." He came toward her, the dark lock of hair and her knife
offered to her on the palms of his outstretched hands. "I shall do no
less. You may go."

Hoping
he couldn't see how she trembled inside, Linnet took her blade and tucked it
beneath the band of her apron. She made to leave, but he stepped before her,
blocking their way. "Please take this as a token of my admiration,"
he said, holding out the lock of hair. "I should be vastly injured if you
decline."

Linnet
accepted his offering with a curt nod. She'd dispose of it as soon as they were
a safe distance from him.

Holding
her head high, she led Robbie away, trying hard not to show the fear knotting
her stomach now that the unpleasant encounter was almost over. Mauger trotted
along beside them, casting wary glances over his shoulder as they went. At the
edge of the clearing, just before they reached the path back to the road,
Kenneth MacKenzie called out once more.

"Do
not think you've seen the last of me, lady. I like a woman with fire in her
blood," he shouted. "Aye, lass, we shall meet again. Be certain of
it."

Many
hours later, in the gray and quiet time between midnight and daybreak, Linnet
stood before the narrow arched windows of her chamber and stared out at the
night-darkened landscape. Far below, Loch Duich lapped gently at the sturdy
castle walls, the lake's surface tranquil and smooth at this late hour.

In
the wan light of a slim crescent moon, the loch resembled a polished silver
mirror set down and forgotten in the midst of the wilder landscape of rugged
mountains rising around its shoreline.

Pressing
her forehead against the damp coolness of the window's stone tracery, Linnet
closed her eyes and breathed in the sharp smell of sea tang that seemed to
permeate every inch of her formidable new home.

How
like her husband were his lands of Kintail. Cool and unruffled on the surface,
yet beneath, she sensed a man of brute strength, capable of deep emotion. A man
whose anger was no less dangerous to the unwary than scaling the peaks of
Kintail's mountains would be to a Lowlander unaccustomed to treacherous
terrain.

Winning
his heart, his love, would be a triumph as rewarding as reaching the summit of
a high mountain after a difficult climb. A triumph she wanted, and one she'd
fight to achieve.

Linnet
smoothed the tips of her fingers along the cold stone at the window's edge. Its
chilled dampness was undeniable, a tangible thing, yet come a fine summer's day
filled with warmth and light, the stone would grow warm and glow beneath the
transforming rays of the sun.

Hope
burgeoned bright in Linnet's heart. As the sun was always there, even on days turned
gray and forbidding, so, too, thrummed the fire of her husband's passion
beneath the self-erected barriers he thought were so inviolable.

Resting
her cheek against the molding of the arch-topped window, Linnet let the
brine-laden night air cool her cheeks. ‘Twas necessary, for anytime her
thoughts turned to Duncan MacKenzie, fierce yearnings shot through her, boldly
sweeping aside any maidenly reserve she may have possessed and flooding her
with a need that demanded to be quenched.