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

Arrian felt overwhelmed by the commanding light in those silver-gray eyes. She looked down, unable to meet his penetrating stare. "You have done so much for me, I hesitate to ask another favor of you."

  He bowed slightly, and his voice came out in a deep tone as though he were mocking her. "I'm at your service."

  "I would like to send word to my grandfather that my aunt and I are safe. Will that be possible?"

  Warrick found himself wishing he could as easily make all her desires come true. "And who would your grandfather be?"

  "He is in truth my great-grandfather. Perhaps you know him. He is the chief of Clan Maclvors."

  There was a strange silence, and the very air became charged with emotion. Warrick drew in his breath sharply. "Gille Maclvors?"

  "Yes, that's my grandfather. My Great-aunt Mary is his daughter."

  Warrick's eyes hardened. "How strange it is that fate should deliver you into my hands."

  Misunderstanding his meaning, she nodded. "I believe so, too. I don't know what would have happened had your men not found us."

  He gazed at her for so long, she began to feel uncomfortable. "Let me see if I can guess who you are. Is it possible that you are the daughter of the duke of Ravenworth, my lady?"

  She was astonished. "But how did you know? Are you acquainted with my father?"

  "I only heard his name once, but it's a name that remained in my mind."

  Arrian was beginning to feel that something was strange. She had told no one here her identity. "Since you know who I am, may I ask your name, sir?"

  He bowed to her. "I, my lady, am Warrick Glencarin, chief of Clan Drummond."

  She gasped and stepped quickly away from him, her heart pounding with fear. Arrian had not considered that this might be Drummond land. The accident and worry for her aunt had pushed all other thoughts from her mind. Now she remembered her aunt's fervent attempt to speak just before she had fallen asleep. Aunt Mary had tried to warn her that they were in the home of Lord Warrick Glencarin.

  His voice was hard, his eyes stabbing. "From your reaction I'd say you have heard of me. I can only imagine how disturbing it must be for you to find yourself under my protection."

  She groped for something to say. "I . . . thought you would be older."

  There was arrogance in the way he stood and dislike in the tone of his voice. "I also thought you would be older, and not so comely."

  She took another hasty step backwards. "You don't know me."

  "Ah, but I know your betrothed, my lady. I am acquainted with Ian Maclvors."

  There was something in his eyes that made her want to flee into the storm, anything to escape. "Will you send word to my grandfather?" she asked, taking another step backwards. "He . . . will be distressed about us."

  Sudden amusement lit his eyes. "Indeed. You can depend on it that I'll do just that, my lady. But not yet. When the time is right, your grandfather will surely know that you and your aunt are my . . . guests."

  Concern for her aunt made her forget her fear. "I will not allow you to do anything that will endanger my aunt's health. I will fight you in every way I can."

  He smiled down at her grimly. "So I would expect. But you cannot win, my lady."

  Panic took over her reasoning, and her voice trembled. "Will you let us go?"

  "In good time, my lady—in good time."

  She backed toward the door, each step taking her farther from him. "What will you do with us?"

  His laughter was deep and slightly amused. "Why, my lady, I believe you fear me. I wonder why? Could it be that you have heard that I have no love for anyone who is attached to the Maclvors?"

  5

  Fear sent shock waves through Arrian's body. She whirled around and ran quickly out of the room and up the stairs, half expecting Lord Warrick to pursue her.

  When she reached the safety of her aunt's room she found Lady Mary still sleeping. Arrian looked on both sides of the door for a key but found none. In desperation she tugged on a heavy oak chair, sliding it across the room and bracing it against the door, knowing that it would not keep Lord Warrick out should he want to enter.

  With a pounding heart she listened for footsteps. Moments passed, and no one came. Perhaps he had not followed her.

  "We are prisoners, Aunt Mary," she cried, taking her aunt's hand and gently shaking her. "Please wake up and tell me what to do. Even though he did not say so, I know he will not allow us to leave."

  Lady Mary was still under the effects of the drug and did not stir.

  "We are in the hands of a devil," Arrian whispered. "It might have been far better if we had perished in the storm. Oh, Father, Mother, what shall I do?"

  Her Grace, the duchess of Ravenworth, moved out from the arched doorway of the Hotel de Ville, pulling her fur-lined hood over her head to keep out the bitter wind. A liveried servant rushed forward to assist her into the carriage, where she joined her husband and son.

  Raile took Kassidy's hand and held it in a firm grip. "I'm glad to be quit of Paris. I have little liking for the French."

  Kassidy glanced at her husband, trying not to show her amusement. "Thus speaks Wellington's soldier." She reached out her other hand and clasped her son's hand. "Do you think we should tell your father that the war is over and has been for many years? Would he be shocked to hear that the French are now our allies?"

  Raile's lip curled in ill humor. "Have your little jest, Kassidy," he said.

  Michael smiled at his beautiful mother. "Perhaps we should remind Father that he may be about to take on the Scots and doesn't need a war on two fronts."

  Raile almost smiled at his son's humor. "You mistake my intentions, Michael. I have no desire for a confrontation with Gille Maclvors."

  "But you must take seriously his dislike for anyone English, Raile," Kassidy said.

  "I can assure you, I take it very seriously. But I will not allow him to spoil my daughter's wedding."

  "I'm sure by the time we reach Scotland, Aunt Mary will have smoothed the path for you. If anyone can control Grandfather, it's she."

  "I was opposed to allowing Arrian and your aunt to sail to Scotland ahead of us. Your aunt has always been headstrong, Kassidy, but when Captain Norris informed me that she left the ship and hired a coach to take her and Arrian to Davinsham, she exceeded all boundaries of common sense."

  "You know how she detests sailing. After the storm, she refused to remain on the Nightingale."

  "Then why did she insist on sailing to Scotland ahead of us, Kassidy? You know I admire and respect Lady Mary, but I believe she is in her dotage."

  "I agree that what she did was not rational, Raile, but her intentions were good. In spite of her fear of sailing, she boarded the Nightingale, hoping to convince Grandfather to accept you."

  "No one, not even that old man, will keep me from seeing Arrian married. If he does not relent, the wedding will simply take place in England."

  "Have you said this to Arrian?"

  "I have."

  "And what was her reaction?"

  A satisfied look came into Raile's eyes. "Our daughter will not marry in Scotland unless I'm with her."

  "I agree," Kassidy said. "But you don't know Grandfather."

  "We may never meet, Kassidy."

  "I wanted the wedding to take place at Ravenworth, but it was important to Arrian that she be married at Davinsham." Kassidy clutched her husband's hand, knowing he would not be pleased when she told him her idea. "I believe, Raile, it would be wise if I went on ahead to join Aunt Mary and Arrian. I will add my pleas to theirs and persuade Grandfather to acknowledge you. I know he'll do it for me."

  "I don't like this," Raile said, tightening his grip on her hand. "I'd rather you returned to England with me."

  "But don't you see what this means to Arrian? I believe I should try to change Grandfather's mind about you."

  "I don't want you to go to Scotland without me, and I must return to England."

  "After you have concluded your business in L
ondon, you and Michael can join me." Kassidy leaned her head against Raile's shoulder and linked her arm through his. "Please, Raile."

  Their son watched Raile's eyes soften with adoration. His mother would have her way today, of that Michael had little doubt.

  Raile shouted up to the coachman. "To Calais, Atkins, to where the Nightingale is anchored."

  Michael couldn't help but smile at how easily his mother had overcome his father's objections. The coach lurched forward, and the young viscount soon lost interest in his parents. His gaze followed a pretty young woman as she hurried down the street. When the girl disappeared into a shop, Lord Michael's thoughts returned to the family. He was looking forward to being with his sister. Their family would never be the same after her marriage. If their mother was the heart of the family, Arrian was the soul. What would they do without her?

  When Raile escorted Kassidy on board the Nightingale, his eyes were filled with indecision. "I still think you should come with me."

  "I must do this, Raile. And remember you are to speak before Parliament on the twenty-third. You will have to take ship for England no later than Monday next."

  "I know, I know."

  Kassidy gazed up at him, smiling. "It won't be long until we are reunited, dearest. We must just be patient."

  "I don't like to be separated from you."

  "But you'll have our son to keep you from being lonely."

  Raile hugged her to him. "Take the greatest care of yourself."

  A breath of icy wind chilled Kassidy, touching her with a feeling of deep foreboding. Glancing at her son, she saw by his expression that he'd felt it also.

  Scots were of a suspicious nature and would call her intuition a forewarning or a bad omen. She only knew that something was dreadfully wrong, and she would not be at ease until she saw Arrian again. But she decided that it would be unwise to share her distress with her husband.

  "Good-bye, my dearest," she said, pressing her cheek against Raile's. "I shan't sleep well until we are together again."

  "Nor will I," he said, aching to keep her with him.

  Michael hugged his mother and smiled. "When next we meet, it will be on Scottish soil."

  Kassidy felt the deck pitch beneath her feet as her husband and son left the ship. Already she missed them, but her daughter needed her—she could feel it.

  Hours had passed since Arrian had confronted Lord Warrick, but her apprehension had not lessened. She sat before a smoldering fire, startled by every noise. If only her aunt would awaken and tell her what to do.

  Hearing a soft rap on the door, Arrian scrambled to her feet. She hurried to press her ear against the door. "Who is it?"

  "Tis Barra. I've come to tend your aunt."

  With great relief, Arrian moved the chair away from the door, feeling a bit foolish. Barra greeted her with a quick nod. "Lord Warrick asked if you'll attend him at your convenience. He'll await you in his study."

  Fear prickled Arrian's spine. "No. I will not go."

  Barra looked amazed at Lady Arrian's refusal. Lowering her eyes, she walked over to Lady Mary. After examining her patient, she turned to Arrian with a worried frown. "The leg's bad. She should have the kind of care I canna give her."

  "Dr. Edmondson has also told me this. Are the roads passable?"

  "Not yet." The maid walked to the door. "What would you have me tell his lordship?"

  Arrian could see the puzzlement in the woman's eyes. "Tell him I. . . don't want to leave my aunt."

  Barra merely nodded. "Will you be wanting to take your meals in here?"

  "Yes, thank you," Arrian said. "And I will also want a bed brought in, please." In truth, Arrian did not want to be alone. She was too frightened.

  "Very well, m'lady."

  "Do you think the doctor will come today?"

  "No, m'lady, the snow's too deep. Will there be anything else?"

  "No, nothing. Only . . . please let it be known that we do not wish to be disturbed by anyone except yourself or the doctor."

  Barra nodded. "It'll be as you say. I'll see that your bed is set up before nightfall."

  Arrian walked to the window and pulled back the heavy drapery. It was snowing so hard she could not even see the courtyard below. She and her aunt were imprisoned in this icy world, but she had to find a way to get them to Edinburgh.

  She traced Ian's name on the frosty window. What must he be thinking? Surely he was worried. Perhaps by now he had initiated a search for her.

  Lady Mary groaned, and Arrian rushed to her aunt's bedside to find her awake. She gripped Arrian's hand, her eyes wide with concern. "Do you know where we are?"

  "Yes. I have spoken with Lord Warrick."

  Arrian didn't know how much to tell her aunt. She didn't think it would be wise to upset her at this time, but Arrian had not reckoned with Lady Mary's sharp perception.

  "He won't allow us to leave, will he?"

  "I don't believe so."

  "My leg is bad, isn't it, Arrian?"

  "Yes, dearest, but you must not be concerned. I will find a way to get us out of here. I promise."

  "I doubt that man would dare to hurt us physically, Arrian. But don't mistake this, he's our bitter enemy. You are to stay away from him."

  "I am frightened."

  "And with good reason. If you knew more about Scotland and the feuds that have torn it apart, you would better understand what we are facing."

  "Why does Lord Warrick hate the Maclvors?"

  "There are many reasons. I fear he will never allow us our freedom until he gets what he wants from my father—whatever that might be. Perhaps I should speak to him."

  Arrian laid her hand on her aunt's forehead and found that she was feverish. "You will do nothing of the sort. You must rest and not upset yourself."

  Lady Mary closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "I find I am very weary, Arrian, and will be of little use to you." Her eyes opened for just a moment. "You must keep away from that man. Stay by me."

  "Don't concern yourself with me. I'm in no danger."

  Lady Mary fought against the drowsiness but eventually gave in to it. She was soon locked in a heavy sleep that brought no rest.

  That night Arrian lay awake in the small cot that had been placed beside her aunt's bed. She had wedged the chair against the door once more, but still she jumped at every noise.

  When a weak dawn lit the corners of the room, Arrian was still awake.

  Warrick dismounted and handed the reins to the young stable boy.

  "Looks like the snow'll never let up, m'lord."

  "So it does, Tam. Give Titus a good rubdown and extra oats. See that the stables are kept warm tonight. I don't want the livestock to freeze."

  "What about the sheep still running the bogs, m'lord?"

  "We'll lose the youngest tonight, but there is no help for it. We can't find them in this blizzard."

  With long strides, Warrick made his way to the castle. At first he had been angry when the girl had refused to come to his study. But the ride had cleared his mind, and he knew what he must do with the great-granddaughter of Gille Maclvors. He would no longer delay their confrontation.

  A clock somewhere in the distance chimed four o'clock when the rap came at the door. Arrian moved slowly across the room and opened the door a crack. She was surprised to see the housekeeper and not Barra, who usually served them.

  "M'lord's asked that you attend him at once." "I made it clear to your daughter that I would not see him."

  The housekeeper shook her head. "It'll do no good ta deny him, m'lady. He'll have his way in the end. It would be better if you just come along with me." "Do you . . . know what he wants of me?" "His lordship doesn't confide in me, m'lady." Her aunt was still sleeping. She was alone in this and would have to face him eventually. She could not remain in this room forever like some scared little rabbit, but she would see him when she was ready, not when he ordered it.

  "Inform his lordship that it isn't convenient for me to see him at
this time," she said.

  "I'd no' like to be the one to defy him." Mrs. Haddington shook her head and withdrew, closing the door behind her.

  Arrian quickly ran a brush through her hair and tied it back with a green ribbon that matched the green velvet gown she wore. Taking a deep breath, she left the room. Standing at the top of the stairs, it took her a moment to gather the courage to descend into the dim hallway.

  With determined steps, she made her way to Lord Warrick's study. She would have knocked, but the door swung open, and his tall figure loomed in front of her.

  "I was told you ignored my invitation, so I was about to come to you."

  Arrian threw her head back and glared at him. "Well, my lord, do we converse in the hallway, or will you offer me the warmth of your hearth?"

  He bowed to her and swept his hand toward the fireplace. "Be my guest, my lady. I thought you might be curious as to what I've decided to do about you and your aunt."

  Arrian held her hands out to the flames that did little to warm the chill in her heart. She shrugged, trying to pretend indifference. "As soon as the weather permits, my aunt must see a doctor in Edinburgh. We will be happy to be on our way, thus ridding you of our encumbrance."

  A smile tugged at his lips. "That's not quite what I had in mind, my lady. Won't you be seated, so that I, too, may sit?"

  "No. I'd rather stand."

  "Then you force me to stand also. You see, we have been instructed in good manners here in the Highlands, my lady, no matter what you may have heard to the contrary."

  She dropped into a chair, as she certainly didn't want him hovering over her. She was glad when he was finally seated.

  "Mrs. Haddington made tea and some of her wonderful scones. Will you not partake?" he asked.

  Arrian glanced at the table that had been laid with a white cloth and a silver tea set. "No, thank you. I care little for scones."

  "I have no doubt you find us primitive," he said. "My home must seem drab to you, since you are the daughter of the wealthy and powerful duke of Ravenworth." The way he said her father's title was not a compliment.

  She was silent.