Highland Love Song (DeWinter's Song 2) Read online

  Lady Mary sighed. "No doubt my father will view the incident as reason for a fight. There is likely to be a bloody confrontation if cooler heads don't prevail. If only Raile were here, he'd know what to do."

  "M'lady, I'm most distressed to think of Lady Arrian and Her Grace in the hands of that devil."

  "Don't fret about them. My niece can hold her ground with Warrick Glencarin. I'm more concerned with the consequences that will come from Lord Warrick's actions."

  As the sun slipped behind the darkened woods and painted the sky with bright streaks of crimson, the coach entered the gates of Davinsham Castle.

  A cortege of servants rushed from the castle to aid Lady Mary. She was carried upstairs to the bedroom that had been hers as a girl. Her leg was propped on pillows, and her maid went below to get her something light to eat.

  There was a knock on the door, and Ian Maclvors entered. He stood silently watching the servants make his aunt comfortable, then ordered them to withdraw so that he could talk to Lady Mary in private.

  "Your messenger arrived only yesterday morning, Aunt Mary, and he was a bit vague." His eyes snapped with anger. "I have been damned patient, but I demand to know why Arrian isn't with you. Has she decided she no longer wants to marry me?"

  Lady Mary looked at her nephew with calm disdain. She had been dreading this moment. "I would have thought you might inquire about my health, Ian."

  He sat down beside her, his eyes boring into her. "How careless of me. But you see, I deduced that if you were well enough to make the odious journey from Edinburgh, you would most likely be recovered."

  Lady Mary tried to postpone the inevitable for as long as possible. "Never mind about that. Where is my father and why wasn't he present to greet me?"

  "Then you don't know?" Ian leaned back and shoved his hands in his pockets. "My messenger must have passed you on the road."

  "I saw no messenger."

  "Then I'm afraid it falls to me to tell you that Grandfather is gravely ill. The doctor is with him now. It's his heart again, only this time it's much more serious."

  She eased her legs off the bed. "Help me up. I must go to him at once."

  "First I want to hear about Arrian and why she isn't with you."

  Lady Mary didn't want to contend with Ian's questions, not until she saw her father. It would be better if she told them both together. "Lend me your arm. I'll go to my father now."

  Reluctantly Ian stood and helped her to rise. She leaned heavily on him as they walked along the hallway.

  "I asked you before if Arrian had decided against marrying me. She's returned to England, hasn't she?"

  "No, she hasn't. She's with her mother. I said I would tell you about Arrian later. Your love life will keep until I've seen my father."

  Ian had never liked his aunt. She had a way of ordering people around, and she always got her way. But it wouldn't be long until he was head of the Maclvors clan. Then he would have the power and have to answer to no one.

  She gripped his arm, hobbling toward her father's room. Ian hoped her leg pained her with each step she took.

  The room was dark, and there was only a single candle burning near Gille Maclvors's bed. Lady Mary limped to her father's bedside and stared down at him. His eyes were open, but she could not be sure he saw her.

  She glanced up at the doctor, who shook his head sadly.

  "Well, Mary," Lord Gille said in a weak voice, "I might have known you wouldn't let me slip away without instructing me on how the deed should be accomplished."

  It hurt her to see that her father was only a shell of the man he once was. He had been a great hulk of a man whose mere presence overpowered lesser men. He had held the family together with pure strength and determination. Now his breathing was labored, and his arms looked so fragile and brittle it appeared they could be snapped like dry twigs. His skin was stretched tightly across his face and resembled old parchment.

  She smiled through her tears. "You're too stubborn to die unless you choose the time and place, Father."

  He rolled his eyes at her with some of his old fire. "This is the place, and it's nearing the time. Will you grieve for me, Mary?"

  "Nay, Father—I'll miss you, but I'll not grieve. You've had a good long life and had everything your way. I hope when it comes my time I can say the same, then I'll be glad to go."

  He laughed so hard that it turned into a spasm of coughing. The doctor picked up a bottle, trying to poke medicine down his throat, but Lord Gille pushed his hand away.

  "Get out. I don't need a doctor."

  Lady Mary sat on the edge of the bed holding her father's hand. "Had I known you were so ill, I would have been here sooner."

  "Where's Kassidy?" the old man asked, looking around the room. "Where's my favorite grandchild?"

  Ian hung back with a scowl on his face. It had always been Kassidy his grandfather favored. His eyes narrowed. Even now the old man hadn't asked to see him.

  Lady Mary held back her tears. "Father, Kassidy doesn't know you are ill, or she'd be here."

  "I want to see her again. I won't die until I tell her she did right in marrying that Englishman. He's been good to my Kassidy, and that's all I ever wanted for her."

  "She'll be glad to hear that, Father. She has always wanted the two most important men in her life to approve of each other."

  Lord Gille noticed Ian standing impatiently by the door and motioned for his daughter to lean closer. "Watch over Arrian," he whispered in a raspy voice. "I'm not so certain Ian is the husband for her. He has a cunning about him. I thought he would grow out of it, but he hasn't."

  Lady Mary had thought she was the only one who had sensed something sinister about Ian, but apparently her father had felt it also. He would die without ever knowing that Arrian and Kassidy were, at this moment, prisoners in the home of his enemy. "I'll watch over Arrian. You can be certain of that, Father."

  Ian heard his name mentioned but couldn't hear what was being said. With anger boiling inside him, he stalked out of the room and down the stairs. His aunt was keeping something from him about Arrian, and he intended to find out what it was.

  Lady Mary stayed with her father until he fell asleep. It was after midnight when she got back to her room. To her displeasure, she found her nephew waiting for her.

  "I'm bone weary, Ian. I haven't seen a real bed in three days. Anything you have to say to me can surely wait until morning."

  Agnes fussed about disapprovingly, unfolding woolen blankets and placing a warming pan in the bed. "I told him as much, m'lady. But he insisted he'd see you tonight."

  "Leave us alone, Agnes. What I have to say to my aunt is private."

  Lady Mary turned on Ian. "You'll not take it upon yourself to order my maid about. Agnes takes orders from me, and only me—you might want to remember that in the future."

  Ian's eyes hardened. "I'll remember."

  "See that you do. Now, what would you like to know about Arrian?"

  "Surely you can guess that I've been out of my mind with worry about her. I was told that she would be landing at Leith and I rushed there to meet her. But when the Nightingale docked she wasn't aboard. Because of Grandfather's failing health I was ordered home. I thought Arrian would then be coming by coach with you, but you arrived alone. What am I to think? If you're trying to spare my feelings, don't bother. If she's changed her mind about our marriage, tell me now."

  Lady Mary sank down on the bed and leaned her head back against the pillows. "Agnes, bring me my jewelry chest."

  The maid quickly complied and stepped back a respectful pace while Lady Mary searched among her jewels. At last she found what she was looking for and held the ring out to Ian.

  He took it and stared at the bright ruby for a long moment. "So, she's returned the ring."

  "No, she did not. The ring was returned to you by Lord Warrick Glencarin. He sends regrets and says I am to tell you that she wears the Drummond wedding ring."

  The color drained from Ian'
s face as he leapt to his feet. "By, God, I'll see him dead for this! How dare that bastard take my Arrian." The veins stood out in his neck, and he balled his fists. "She belongs to me. I know she'll never allow him to defile her with his touch. She'd rather die."

  Lady Mary stared at Ian as if seeing him for the first time. She had known him to torment the other children when he was small, and he had often been called to task for mistreating animals. But the man who stood before her now was incapable of rational thought.

  "Leave me now, Ian. I am very weary, and I'm worried about my father."

  He turned on her with hatred blazing in his dark eyes. "How could you have allowed this to happen? She was under your protection. You are responsible for this."

  "As it was, I had very little control over the situation."

  "I want to hear every detail," he demanded.

  She nodded to Agnes and the maid walked to the door, holding it open. "Tomorrow, Ian," she said firmly. "I will talk to you no more tonight."

  Ian knew it would do no good to press his aunt further. She was a stubborn old woman who would have her own way. "I trust you'll have a pleasant sleep, Aunt Mary. I will call on you early, for I will not close my eyes until I know everything."

  He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him while Lady Mary and Agnes stared at each other.

  "There's sure to be a fracas, m'lady."

  "Yes, there will be, Agnes, and God help us all."

  A week had passed since Arrian had gone riding with Warrick. Every day he sent word that he would like her to ride with him again, but each time her maid came with the message that Lady Arrian refused his invitation.

  Finally Warrick knocked on Arrian's door. When her maid answered, she blocked his entrance. "M'lady has a headache," she said.

  "I'll hear that from her own lips. Stand aside, you obstinate creature."

  Kassidy kept a firm grip on the door and continued to block the entrance with her body. "Mayhaps you'll come back tomorrow and she'll see you."

  Warrick's eyes clashed for a fraction of a second with the maid's angry green eyes before she lowered her head.

  "Out of my way, Tuttle."

  Kassidy entertained the notion of slamming the door in his face but decided against it, fearing it might arouse his suspicion. She moved out of his way and dipped into a quick curtsy. "As you wish, m'lord."

  Arrian was seated on the window seat with a book in her lap. She warily watched Warrick cross the room to her. When he sat down beside her she stiffened, resisting the urge to run into the safety of her mother's arms.

  "What is this?" he asked, taking the book from her hand. "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. So you are an admirer of Lord Byron? I suppose most women appreciate him because he romanticized life."

  Arrian's voice was stilted but her eyes flaming. "Yes, Warrick, I admire Lord Byron. And I grieved for the world when he died."

  "While I have never admired his poetry, I'm sure his wit is missed."

  Arrian wondered how they could be having this casual conversation when so much had happened between them. Her heart was beating fast, and she had difficulty drawing a deep breath.

  "You certainly didn't find this book in my library," he said, turning it over in his hand. "So, therefore, you brought it with you."

  "I borrowed it from my mother before I left France." Her eyes met Kassidy's. "My mother and father met Lord Byron on a visit to Italy, Warrick. Lord Byron had a particular fondness for my mother. You will see the book is signed to her by Lord Byron's own hand."

  Kassidy had tried to distract her daughter to keep her from showing Lord Warrick the inscription. But it was too late, for already Warrick was reading it aloud.

  To you, Kassidy, with hair the color of a golden sunset and eyes as green as the most precious emerald. Do you think Raile will mind if I adore you from afar?

  Warrick stared at the inscription for a long moment, feeling like a fool. He laid the book aside and stood. With a deep bow, his eyes went to the maid. "Do I have the pleasure of addressing Her Grace, the duchess of Raven worth?"

  Kassidy stood up to her full height with a proud tilt to her head, her defiant green eyes meeting his silver ones. She removed her cap and tossed it aside, and shimmering gold hair tumbled down her back.

  "You will have to forgive the deception, Lord Warrick. But you see, you have something that belongs to me and I have come to get her back."

  Warrick stared at the golden-haired beauty, understanding very well why Lord Byron had praised her loveliness. "I must say, you have gone to great lengths to deceive me, Your Grace—a duchess posing as a lowly maid. No wonder my household thought you too obstinate."

  "I will not play word games with you, Lord Warrick," Kassidy said. "The day will come when you will be called to task for what you have done to my daughter."

  "Perhaps, Your Grace. But that day has not yet come."

  "Oh, but it will. You will answer to me and her father, and if that isn't enough to keep you awake at night, you will also answer to the king."

  He smiled. "Your Grace, I believe I would be more frightened of you than any crowned head."

  "I have come to take my daughter away, Lord Warrick, and I intend to do just that."

  He turned to Arrian. "And is it still your wish to leave?"

  "I want to leave more than I have ever wanted anything in my life, Warrick."

  He moved to the door and wrenched it open. "I will think on the matter. I'll let you know my decision at dinner tonight." His eyes went to Kassidy. "I would ask to dine alone with your daughter, Your Grace."

  Kassidy stood face to face with him, her eyes burning like green fire. "That will not be possible." Hundreds of angry words ached to be spoken, but Kassidy did not want to provoke the man too far. After all, they had to lull him into passivity so they could escape. "Arrian does not want to be alone with you, and you can guess why."

  "What if I give you my word that no harm will befall her? I only want to talk to her. There is much I need to settle in my mind."

  "I'm sure you will understand if I'm not too concerned whether your mind is settled or not. I'm slow to trust your word, my lord," Kassidy said.

  "Would you trust me if I should offer my word as the earl of Glencarin?"

  "Not good enough."

  "What if I give you my word as chief of Clan Drummond?"

  Kassidy thought for a moment. The word given by a chieftain was not to be broken. "Then that would suffice, my lord. But you should first ask my daughter if she is willing to dine with you."

  Arrian laid the book on the window seat and stood. "I have nothing to say to you, Warrick."

  His eyes were almost pleading. "But I have many things to say to you."

  Kassidy nodded her head only slightly to indicate that Arrian was to accept.

  "Very well," Arrian said. "But only in the company of my mother."

  Kassidy smiled at him. "You have my daughter's answer."

  "She told you about what happened between us, Your Grace?"

  "Of course she did. Did you think my daughter would keep such a thing from me?"

  His eyes were hard as they probed Arrian's. "I had hoped that what happened between us, Arrian, would remain between husband and wife."

  Arrian glared back at him. "Not true husband and wife, my lord."

  Warrick turned to Kassidy with a touch of humor in his smile. "I will be a most fortunate host tonight, Your Grace, with two lovely ladies at my table."

  "I'm glad we understand each other, my lord," Kassidy said.

  "I'll look forward to this evening. Until then, there is something in the village that requires my attention."

  "Tonight, my lord," Kassidy said, "all will be settled between you and my daughter."

  Warrick's eyes sought Arrian's, and she thought she detected pain in the silver depths. But, no, surely she had been mistaken.

  "Until we meet again, Arrian."

  19

  After the door had closed behind War
rick, Kassidy sprang into action. "Hurry, Arrian, dress warmly and sensibly so that it will appear we are merely going for a stroll. We haven't much time."

  Arrian's eyes were wide. "Are we leaving now?"

  "Yes, as soon as possible. You heard him say he would be in the village most of the day. We may never get another chance like this one."

  Arrian flew to her trunk and sifted through its contents until she found a gray woolen gown. She quickly changed, and Kassidy fastened the hooks for her while nodding in approval.

  Kassidy changed her own clothing while Arrian slipped her feet into boots and tied her unruly hair back in a ribbon.

  "Wait here until I return," Kassidy said, picking up the breakfast tray. "I'll watch below until I see him leave. Be ready when I return."

  Arrian looked around the room that had been her prison for so long. She touched the lace on the canopy, thinking of the other girl who had occupied this room.

  In a way they had been kindred souls. Warrick's sister had also been forced into a marriage she hadn't wanted. But poor Gwendolyn's life had ended in tragedy, while Arrian was about to escape.

  She tried not to think of Warrick or of her feelings for him. It still hurt too badly, and the wound was too raw and deep.

  She closed the trunk, knowing she would have to leave her beautiful gowns behind. Her jewel chest was on the dressing table and she opened the lid, selecting those that had special meaning—the pearls her father had given her on her fourteenth birthday, a diamond brooch from Aunt Mary, a golden locket that had been her mother's.

  She picked up the ring Warrick had slipped on her finger the night they were married. She had removed it and put it away without looking at it. Now she saw that it was very beautiful, a large diamond surrounded by sapphires. She slipped the ring into her pocket—she would keep it as a remembrance.

  Carefully she picked up the book that Lord Byron had given her mother and tucked it inside her cape.

  She picked up a quill, dipped it in ink, and scribbled a quick letter to Warrick. When she was finished she propped it against the mirror so he would find it.