Chapter Eight

For several weeks now Alex had been a married man, although he rarely felt like a husband. Upon their arrival in Sonas, Cora glanced at her surroundings and then straightaway asked to be brought to her room. Taking all of her meals alone, she had locked herself in and everyone else out, including him. On several occasions, he had followed behind Margaret when she brought a food tray to Cora's door. He stayed, hoping to catch a glimpse of her when she took the tray into her room, but it was as if she had known he waited there. Her door remained shut, her food untouched. After a while, he surrendered and left her to eat in peace.

The clan had begun to talk. Rumors abounded about his strange wife. Margaret worried and badgered him with questions, for which he had no answer. He had even overheard servants gossiping in the kitchen, blaming her absence on him. They had assumed she was afraid of him. He did not resent their conclusions so long as they thought well of her. And so far, everyone did. The generosity of her dowry had renewed his clan's spirit. For the first time in years, their stores were no longer bare. Besides grain, William had also sent along seed, sheep, and two of his finest horses, a sire and a dam. Alex had been elated when he first eyed the new horse flesh. They both possessed the best temperaments and their sizes would likely produce a strong foal. It would take several years to bring the stock to a noteworthy place, but he delighted in the challenge. Already the health of his clan seemed improved. Edmund had even smiled when he handed Alex the month's summary of their accounts.

Although grateful for the material blessings of his union, his joy was bittersweet. He had a wife whom he wished to know better but who refused to see him.

"I ken what ye think," Jamie said when Alex confessed his worry for Cora.

"I did not ask ye what I thought. I ken my own mind. I wanted to know what ye think, but ye can forget about it now," Alex snapped as he went back to the task of cleaning out one of the horse's stalls. He scanned the small barn. "We'll need to expand the stables."

"Do not change the subject," Jamie said.

Alex raised his brow at him. Then he leaned out the door. "Fergus," he shouted.

Jamie started backing away. "What do ye need Fergus for?"

Alex grinned. "Fergus," he shouted again.

In moments, the large, heavy set man filled the doorway. "Good morrow, Alex," he said, brushing unruly red hair from his eyes.

Alex smiled. "'Tis a fine morning to be sure." Then he pointed to Jamie. "‘Twill be even finer when ye drag him from my sight."

Fergus smiled at Jamie. "Chieftain's orders. Don't give me trouble, and I won't have to hurt ye."

Crossing the room, Jamie reached to place his arm around Fergus's shoulder. "I'll be no trouble at all. In fact, we can walk to the village together, and I'll tell ye what I wanted to talk to Alex about."

"Jamie MacKenzie, ye're a miserable blackguard," Alex snapped. "Forget what I said, Fergus, and leave us."

Fergus shrugged and trudged back outside.

"Ye're the Devil," Alex said when they were alone again. "Alright, I'm listening."

"Ye're letting your own doubts and worries cloud your thinking where Cora's concerned."

"What are ye talking about? She won't come out of her room. What else can it be but an aversion to me?"

"Won't come out of her room or can't," Jamie said.

"What are ye getting at?"

"She never left her room at home. Why?"

"William is obviously troubled, and having lost his wife and his other daughter, he must have felt it was the only way to guarantee Cora's safety."

"Locking her up like a prisoner? Nay, I don't believe he'd do that. Ye're looking for easy answers when there's something very mysterious about your new wife. She's hiding something."

Alex shook his head. "Forget what I said. The marriage is done. It matters not what she hides. She's my wife."

"I could not agree more. Look around ye." Jamie raised his arms in a sweeping gesture. "Your clan is beginning to heal. There is promise in the air, and it cannot all be attributed to Cora's dowry. The gift of the Ross's grain could not have ushered in the sunshine. It has barely rained or snowed since she arrived. And I swear to ye, I saw bluebells peeking through the snow by the old path into Daonnan Forest. I believe ‘tis a sign the fae are returning." Jamie's eyes glinted with excitement. "Go to her. Let her know she is not alone. Whatever her secret is, nothing will diminish her place here. Only I would see ye prosper from your marriage as much as your clan. Ye must find a way to reach out to her. I watched her stare at ye with admiration when ye exchanged vows. She wants to be yours, body and soul, but something holds her back."

ALEX MARCHED THROUGH the great hall, then up a wide stairwell. When he reached the landing, he glanced right toward his room and the antechamber that was meant to belong to the lady of the keep. Squaring his shoulders, he turned left and headed down the long hallway passed guest quarters to the very last door. She had chosen the room farthest from his own. He shook his head, remembering Jamie's advice. To understand his wife, he needed to put aside his own insecurities.

Standing before the door, he rapped softly.

"I'm not hungry, Margaret," she called.

Alex wondered how often Cora had sent Margaret and her food tray away. Perhaps she wasn't eating enough. Worry for his wife mounted in his mind.

"Cora, ‘tis I." He waited for an answer that did not come.

"'Tis Alex."

"I cannot see ye now," she said.

He could tell she stood near the door. He put his hand on the heavy wood that separated them. "Cora, we must speak."

"Please go away." Her voice sounded tired and laced with sorrow.

"Cora, I want to help ye."

Silence.

"Cora, open this door. We can work though whatever is upsetting ye. If ye're grieving for your father, then mayhap ye'd benefit from a visit with Father Gregor."

"Leave me be," she shouted. He heard her footfalls cross the room.

CORA'S HANDS GRIPPED her head as she rocked in her seat by the bare hearth. Her heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't breathe. A power swelled within her too great to deny. She fought to maintain control while her thoughts remained fixed on Alex. When her father first took ill, he had become obsessed with seeing her properly matched before he died, but finding the right man had proved difficult. "He must be a man of unlimited kindness and unspeakable strength," her father had once said.

She sighed. There was no better way to describe Alex. Beneath his severe exterior beat a gentle, kind heart. She had known this the moment their eyes had locked, and she heard him speak. She could smell deceit. It always left a pungent taste on her tongue, but from the beginning, he had spoken only truth.

Were his kindness and strength enough, however?

The first night they had lain together when she lost control and tore open his back proved she could hurt him as easily as anyone else.

She just had to do what she had done at Dun Brae Castle—lock herself away—and just like her friends from the village and the servants in the castle, eventually everyone would stop trying to see her. And she would be forgotten.

She looked with longing at the door, savoring the memory of Alex's heat through the slatted wood. His heartbeat continued to echo in her mind. More than anything she had wanted to fling the door wide and throw herself into his arms and forget the world, forget herself. She craved his comfort. She wanted to feel his strong hands on her body again, but once more her cruel fate had cheated her of another of life's gifts. Love could never be hers. The beast within her would destroy him. She had no choice. She had done it once, and she would do it again. She would shut life out.