Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Thora shuddered as she climaxed with pleasure in Aedan’s arms. She’d never imagined doing anything like this, or feeling this way, not about any man.

Even now, his softening shaft inside her threatened to sweep her away on a renewed tide of sensation, carrying her to another peak of passion. Just the thought made her breathless, sure her body would go up in flames, like a phoenix, if that were to happen.

For a time, she was content to lay against Aedan’s broad chest, her body singing with the aftermath of her pleasure, and bask in the sensation of his warmth, and his body, and the passion that was shared between them.

Eventually, however, reality intruded, and with it, the awareness that, once again, she had surrendered to the passion she ought not have given in to. It had been hard to resist Aedan’s obvious desire and need, especially knowing how his loss earlier in the day had distressed him. Still, she ought not to have done so. The continued entangling of their lives would only lead to disaster. Nothing would change that, not until and unless she told him the secret of her identity.

She wanted so much to tell him, and yet, it wasn’t those words which escaped her. “Me first really important vision… I told ye, I didnae always understand them.”

“Aye. Ye did.” His voice was quiet, and it gave her some strength to go on.

“The first that I failed… I saw my parents. ‘Twas nay clear vision, but I could sense the danger tae them. But I didnae ken what it meant. What the vision meant. It was too complicated tae realize what it was trying tae say. But the fear didnae fade, and the dream stayed sharp in me mind. Finally, I realized what my Sight was tryin’ tae show but… ‘twas too late. I was too late.”

“What happened?”

“Me parents were killed in an attack. English soldiers. They attacked our clan. I saw it, but there were so many possible scenarios that I didnae understand what was about tae happen. Me faither died fighting at the front gates o’ the laird’s castle, and me maither died shielding my sister, older brother, and me….” She shuddered.

“That’s what ye meant when ye said ye’ve regretted nae heeding yer premonitions ever since.” There was understanding in Aedan’s voice.

“Aye. And why I didnae hesitate tae come tae ye, even resort tae extreme measures tae secure yer agreement. ‘Tis why I’ll dae everything I can tae turn the course o’ fate away from harm tae those I care fer, or toward their joy, if it comes tae that.”

“But why come tae me, if that’s the case?”

“Because… I dinnae ken fer certain. Yer fate was intertwined with that o’ me clan. That was all I kent at first. But now… yer fate is intertwined with mine, I think.”

“I ken.” His arm wrapped around her. “Our fates are intertwined now, Thora, and ye’ll nae find them easy tae disentangle if I’ve aught tae say about it.”

Thora swallowed hard, tears pricking her eyes at the thought of how he would respond if he knew the truth. She doubted he’d be so determined to hold on to her if he knew which clan she belonged to.

She still had to tell him, but it wasn’t going to be in the library, with their release cooling between their bodies, and herself half-naked. She sighed and pushed herself free of his embrace. “There’s more I need tae tell ye. But nae here. ‘Tis nae private enough.”

Aedan snorted, but didn’t stop her from clambering carefully down from his lap. “Private enough fer this, but nae fer words?”

“Aye.” There was a faint warning tingle in the back of her mind, the lightest shadow of unease in her thoughts. She didn’t know what she felt, or why, but she had the urge to leave. She straightened her mussed skirts as best she could, and slipped on her shoes, while Aedan cleaned himself and straightened his kilt. There wasn’t much either of them could do to tame the sweat dampened hair that clung to their faces, but Thora did her best. Once she felt she would be presentable, she picked up the book she’d been reading and returned it to the shelves.

“Shall we return tae our room?” Aedan suggested. Thora nodded and took his arm. The two of them moved toward the door, and Aedan was just lifting his hand to open it when a sound reached Thora’s ears that made her reach out and stop Aedan in mid motion.

Voices in the corridor. And not just any voices, but those of Lachlan Ross and one of his advisors. The same advisor who’s arm she’d broken, if she recalled correctly.

“...ken why ye find it difficult tae kidnap one woman. Especially with the drugged wine…”

“Me laird, they didnae drink enough. The bottle had scarcely been touched.”

“Because of the lass’s uncanny gift? Or are ye just incompetent at hiding the signs o’ a potion in the wine.” Lachlan scoffed. “And after the effort I went tae, tae discover that Aedan Cameron has a weakness tae valerian.”

Thora felt her stomach go cold. Beside her, Aedan stiffened as if he’d been stabbed.

“Me laird…”

“I tire o’ this game. Dae ye ken how hard I’ve worked tae place Aedan in me debt? His stubborn pride… I’ve been undercuttin’ his crop sales tae merchants, sending spies tae ruin crops, findin’ ways tae steal or damage his livestock… the man should have empty coffers and an empty belly. I thought he’d yield and come seekin’ aid a season or more ago.”

Aedan’s breath hissed between his teeth, and Thora caught him round the waist before he could charge into corridor to confront Lachlan. The grip on his waist clenched around his bruises, and Aedan flinched before slumping against the door, his breathing harsh with pain and fury.

“He is a proud man… but me laird… his men…”

“Aye. But battles are always messy, and I want the man beholden tae me, nae conquered and seething under the yoke. If I must depend on the weakness o’ his men, then it means I must find ways tae bring him tae siege, without him kenning I am behind it. And find ways tae ensure nae allies save meself can come tae his aid.”

The sheer callousness of Lachlan Ross’s words chilled Thora to the bone. She’d never imagined such cruelty. To let men starve, and deliberately work to impoverish an entire clan… it was monstrous.

“We could…”

“I will decide what we dae. But fer now, we’ve Yule festivities tae complete. And I’ve other plans in motion.” There was a sharp scuffing noise, then the sound of boot heels on the stone as two sets of footsteps died away.

Aedan’s jaw was clenched, his eyes blazing. “That bastard…”

“Aye. He is. And now ye ken what his plans were and are. Ye can send a petition tae the king tae have him brought before a tribunal o’ lairds. ‘Tis best this way.”

“I’d rather tak’ his head in battle.”

“But if ye dae that, ye’ll nae have proof o’ his actions, and the other clans will scorn ye fer actin’ against an ally. Ye ken that. Let us get out o’ here, and we’ll send a missive tae the king as soon as possible.”

“The weather…”

“As soon as the storm fades. We’ll pack while we wait and have a servant tak’ a message tae Mac.”

“The message will be intercepted. Ye ken his servants report tae him.”

“We’ll make it something innocuous, but something from which Mac can guess our meaning. A simple phrase like ‘the hare runs fast and seeks its winter den’.”

For a moment, she thought Aedan would refuse. Then, finally, the coiled muscles under her hands relaxed. “Ye’re right. We would never win a fight in the man’s own castle, surrounded by his allies and his soldiers. Best tae make our escape and send word tae the king and let him sort it out.”

The hall was silent, and try as she might, Thora could hear neither footsteps nor voices. She pulled the door open a crack and found nothing on the other side but an empty hall. “The coast is clear. We should hurry tae our rooms.”

Together, the two of them slipped out of the library and down the hall toward their rooms. Aedan gestured to their empty packs. “Ye start packing. I’ll send the message tae Mac. He’ll understand it more readily from me.”

Thora went to obey.

She couldn’t shake the sense of unease that followed her, however. And the sense that time was running out, and she had to reveal the truth to Aedan. She was almost tempted to take his arm and tell him while they waited for the storm to break.

In the end, however, she couldn’t do it. Aedan had enough to think about, with the truth of Lachlan’s plotting laid in front of him. She couldn’t add another burden. After they escaped Lachlan she would tell him and endure whatever the consequences.

It was hard to hold the quill pen steady to write his message, he was shaking with so much anger. It took everything Aedan had to calm himself enough to write out the short code he and Mac had devised some time ago for ‘need to escape’.

Once it was done, and the message was sent, he could lean against the wall and breathe and think about Lachlan Ross.

He’d never liked the man, but he’d never suspected that the older laird might be behind the troubles his clan had faced in recent years. Nor had he believed Thora when she had said Lachlan intended to move against him. Even after he’d come to accept the truth of her visions, he hadn’t believed that.

He didn’t want to believe it now, but he’d heard the truth from the man’s own mouth, in circumstances that made him believe he hadn’t been intended to hear it. Lachlan intended to bring him down, to crush him and absorb Clan Cameron into Clan Ross. The thought made his stomach clench so hard he feared he’d vomit up everything he’d eaten at the Yule feast earlier.

And the wine… he’d believed Thora when she had said that it was Lachlan’s men that had attacked them, but he’d never guess that Lachlan had made an effort to discover his weaknesses - enough to discover that one, critical chink in his armor. He’d thought it an accident that the men who’d drugged them had selected a medicine he was particularly vulnerable to.

If he’d drunk as much as he usually would of a bottle of wine, would he have ever woken up?

He couldn’t continue to think of it. Otherwise, he would lose his mind, his temper, or both. Such thoughts could wait until they were safely away from Castle Ross.

Instead, he focused on Thora moving around the room, packing with a quiet efficiency he had to admire. She looked as if she did this frequently, and he allowed himself to contemplate the idle question of how often she’d had to pack and leave in a hurry, prodded by her visions and their urgency.

Her parents had died because she didnae warn them in time. It couldnae be considered her fault, and yet… I understand why she might feel that way. ‘Tis the same as I felt when me faither passed away. Nay wonder she’s so determined tae dae all she can tae thwart the things she sees. I dinnae envy her the gift.

A knock roused him from his thoughts, and he went to the door and opened it to find the maid with a note. He took it, sent her away, then closed the door and opened the missive.

The storm looked like it would break within a candle-mark or so, and Mac would have the horses ready, as well as rumors spreading of some sort of ‘unspecified disaster’ at Castle Cameron. Aedan took a deep breath and let it out, his shoulders slumping in relief.

He’d feared they’d be stuck for days longer, and he wasn’t certain he could control himself for that long, not after what had transpired in the Hall earlier, and what he had just overheard.

“Word from Mac?” Thora came to a stop beside him.

“Aye. The storm is set tae break soon.”

“Then we’ll need tae be on our way out with the winds. ‘Tis far too dangerous tae remain here, especially now.”

“A vision?”

“A feeling. I cannae say fer certain when or how, but I ken we’re in mortal peril if we remain.” Her voice was quiet, matching the grim mood he felt.

Neither of them felt like talking as they watched the windows and waited for the winds to die down and the snow to stop falling. By the time it had, full night had fallen, and even through the stone, the air was bitterly cold.

Aedan turned from the window to find Thora already donning her heavy cloak and boots. He did the same but left the cloak to lie casually draped across his shoulders. It would invite less suspicion than if he pulled it close about him as he wanted to.

There were few people in the corridors as he and Thora made their way to the main doors, all of them servants who were busy about their errands and never spared them a glance. Even the guards at the doors made no comment, though that might have been because Mac was already there and had given them some excuse to satisfy any questions.

The courtyard was almost as empty as the halls, the guards’ focus beyond the walls, rather than within them. No one stopped them as they made their way to the stables, where Aedan’s guards were ready and waiting with the horses, and no one stopped them as they led the horses from the stable out into the frigid night.

Something inside Aedan uncoiled. They were almost free. A few steps through the gate and out into the road, and then they could mount and ride away into the dark. Surely Lachlan would never catch them…

And then a figure strode out from the gatehouse, and Aedan felt his heart sink as he looked into the cold, triumphant eyes of Lachlan Ross himself.

The Laird of Clan Ross raked them all with his sharp gaze, then met Aedan’s eyes. “Leaving so soon? But the festivities are nae yet over.”

“I’ve had word o’ urgent matters in me clan that require me presence.” Aedan kept his voice steady and tightened his grip on the reins.

“But I’ve seen nay messenger, and ye didnae come tae bid me farewell. Most discourteous o’ ye, Laird Cameron.”

“An oversight. I dinnae ken why a messenger didnae reach ye, but the matter is dire, and I’m needed. Ye ken what is like tae be the leader of a clan, and I’m sure ye understand why we couldnae spare a minute more even tae bid farewell,” Aedan kept his expression calm, but his heart was racing. Somehow, Lachlan knew what they’d planned, and what they really intended.

“Is that so? Or is it that ye came tae spy on me, and having found whatever it is yer after, ye intend tae flee like rats off a sinking ship?” Lachlan’s voice turned cold. “Such behavior from an ally…”

“’Tis nae…”

Lachlan shook his head. “But then, what could I expect, from a man who would go behind me back tae form an alliance with me enemies?”

The words were so confusing that Aedan momentarily forgot the danger they were in. “I dinnae ken what ye’re speaking about.”

“Dae ye nae? Dae ye really intend fer me tae believe that ye planned this deception o’ yers - pretending tae be wed - fer innocent reasons? Or is it that ye think me fool enough nae tae nae realize that the woman by yer side and pretending tae be yer wife isnae Thora MacTavish, but Thora MacLeod, o’ clan MacLeod, masters o’ the isle o’ Skye, and me sworn enemies?”

The world froze, then cracked and shattered around Aedan like shards of crystal. “What are ye talkin’ about?”

Lachlan laughed, a harsh and ugly sound. “Thora… yer false bride. She is Thora MacLeod, the Laird MacLeod’s younger sister. Did ye think I wouldnae discover the truth?”

His breath stopped. Aedan was sure his heart stopped as well, then cracked in his chest like stone struck with a hammer. His chest hurt as if he’d been stabbed through the ribs. “’Tis a lie.”

“I assure ye, ‘tis true. And if ye dinnae believe me, tak’ a look at the lass’s face. The truth is there tae see.”

Mind numb, heart aching and stomach churning, Aedan turned. He wanted to see anger on Thora’s face, or denial and outrage. Anything to prove Lachlan’s words were a lie. Instead, he saw the one thing he wished above all else not to see.

Resignation. Despair. And guilt.

It’s true. All o’ it… is true. She lied tae me all this time.