Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

How had I ever thought I'd be alone here? Agnes wondered in amazement that evening.

She was sitting outside, at a long table situated next to the garden, with a bonfire roaring in the corner and a crowd of MacLarsen uncles, aunts, and cousins relating stories and singing songs.

Laughter rang out, echoing off the still loch, reflecting a starry sky and the shadows that twirled through the firelit mirth.

Everything smelled fresh and wonderful, the cool wind tugging at her hair, a scent that was wild and strange yet fragrant. Someone told her it was the herbs starting to blossom in the garden, their scent mingling with that of woodsmoke and delicious food. Food and beverages kept coming, mainly in her honor, and she was flushed with pleasure as she looked around.

The light reflected off many a dark-haired head, mostly MacLarsens, though it was hard to keep track of them all. And as though that wasn't difficult enough, there were also the folk that lived and were part of Clan MacLarsen, though not related by blood. It made her head spin to try and remember the bold, rolling Scottish names, so she set her mind to learn them over the next few weeks.

Although gazing at this crowd, one of the largest she'd ever seen, barring the one at her wedding breakfast, she thought that might be a tad ambitious.

A tall, dark-haired man appeared in the corner of her eye, and she whirled around, her heart soaring, only for it to fall when she saw it was not her husband. Agnes knew that she should know better than to look for Leo, and yet she could not help herself. Wouldn't he come out for a little while? Were these not his people?

The sound of a bagpipe came then, and Agnes sat up, her lips parting as it became joyous and merry, her pulse quickening as folk began to dance. The merriment almost brought her to happy tears, and she wished that Leo was there even more fervently. That he might hold out a hand and invite her to dance, pretending to be solemn and cross about it, but with a gleam in his eyes.

He should be here .

She had tried not to think such things, yet it had haunted her all day. It made enjoying herself and learning about Briorn Castle a little bit harder than it should have been. Like a little stone in her boot, digging into her foot, and now there was a tender bruise she couldn't help but press on.

Heaving a sigh, she decided to get up when the cook, a jolly fellow with a round belly and a gleaming bald head, parted the dancing crowd to great fanfare. He marched up to Agnes, who sat up straight, puzzled, and tilted her head as he set something down in front of her with great flourish.

Heat crept up Agnes's face as she tried to smile, wishing Leo was there to help her navigate this, and feeling she was about to commit a silly offense. "Oh, thank you."

The cook, Gilley, studied her as people chattered in excitement, and then knowing flashed in his eyes. "Here, Me Lady," he said with a wink. "Ye have probably ne'er experienced the wonder of honey cake in the Outlands."

"I have not," Agnes said and flashed him a grateful smile. "But I am excited to try it, thank you. It looks delicious." She gamely stabbed her fork into the piece that Gilley had handed her and took a bite. "It's…" Her eyes went wide as she gasped, cinnamon and other flavors bursting on her tongue. "Oh." She put down the fork. "Oh, this is wonderful ."

Cheers went up as Gilley beamed, and then he began to cut more slices out of the cake. Agnes tried to savor every bite, tried to take her time, but it was gone too soon.

Only for another slice to appear on her plate.

"Welcome to Briorn, Me Lady," Gilley said with a kind smile.

Agnes tucked into her second piece of cake with vigor, sure she'd never taste something so delicious again. She sighed and set down her fork, trying to hold onto this, when a sudden shiver of awareness ran through her. Heart rate quickening, she lifted her eyes and met a flash of stormy gray.

This time, there was no mistaking Leo, and she wondered how she had before. He seemed broader and stronger somehow, as though the mantle of Laird became more potent at Briorn. There was a sternness to his brow that made Agnes hesitate, but surely, as the lady, she should go to him.

All but leaping to her feet, Agnes scooped up her piece of cake, which was only half finished, and hastened to Leo. Several people nodded and hailed her as she went along, a few even stopping to palaver with her. It seemed to take an age before she reached Leo. He was deep in conversation with his uncle Donal when she reached him.

Donal clapped him on the shoulder, winked at Agnes, and Leo leaned back against the table, resting his elbows on it. His legs were spread wide on the bench, leaving no room, and he scowled at her.

"There ye are," he said. "What's this?"

"A bit of delicious cake. Gilley gave me two slices, and oh, Leo, I'm guessing you've had it, but it's like nothing I've ever dreamed —" She broke off when she noticed his restless gaze and the hard set of his jaw. "Are you all right?"

He lifted a shoulder. "Nay, but tell me more about the damned cake."

Agnes took a step back, and the plate fell from her hands. A hot ache shot into her throat, and she realized that even though she wasn't alone, she could not count on Leo for company.

"Ye are with me kin, but ye should have…" Leo scowled and rubbed a hand over his face. "Ye should've spent the first night in yer rooms. I dinnae want ye out here?—"

"I didn't want to be alone," Agnes said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Leo went still and averted his gaze. She thought she saw his jaw working. "Until ye ken more about our lands, Outlander, ye should take greater care." When he looked back, Agnes was sure she'd imagined it, for his gaze was hard. "D'ye take me meaning?"

No, Agnes thought, but she bobbed her head.

"I didn't think you would want to…" She glanced over toward the dancing ring, searching for anything to steer this terrible conversation to. "Would you like to dance?" she blurted out.

Leo stared at her for a moment before he let out a bitter laugh. "Christ, nay. Oy!" He surged forward and caught her wrist as she went to pick up the plate and slice of cake. "The lady of the castle doesnae do the work of servants."

They were closer than they had been in weeks—save for earlier that day. Agnes thought she saw Leo's throat bob, but then he let her go and drew back.

"I don't understand…" Agnes began.

"I ken as much, wife," Leo said in a grim tone. "So, off to bed with ye."

Agnes felt a flash of mulish rebellion under her exhaustion and simmering frustration and dragging disappointment. Lifting her chin, with more spirit than she felt, she retorted, "Not before I watch the dancing, husband."

With that, she turned and walked to the edge of the dancing ring, watching the spinning forms blur. All the while, she sensed Leo watching her, but when she glanced back, he was sitting forward and talking to someone, his gestures expansive.

Tiredness swept over her, and a lady's maid appeared at her elbow, offering to show her to her rooms. Agnes accepted with a nod and was sent off to bed with good wishes and felicitations, causing her to blush.

"They've taken to ye quickly, Me Lady," Gelis the maid said. "Nae surprisin', for ye are a kind and brave soul, and verra happy to be here, nay?"

Agnes nodded as Gelis chattered on, helping her into a bath and then a nightgown borrowed from Kristie, for her bags had been taken to the Laird's room by mistake. She flinched at that, even as Gelis prattled on obliviously, saying that they'd get them in the morning.

"Aye, we all hoped that a bride would put an end to the Beast of Briorn's reclusiveness, but he is the Laird, and we must heed him, nay?"

Gelis and her innocent question kept repeating in Agnes's head long after the maid had left and she lay in her big bed. None of this should have been strange—she'd spent every night since her wedding night alone in a bed, but this shadowed room weighed on her.

A sharp, sudden longing for the narrow room she'd shared with Joanna welled within her, the scent of the murmuring sea always at the window, the humming of Sister Theresa in the garden below, and a small, safe world that she knew.

Now, she was in a strange land, far to the north, under skies where even the stars seemed to question why a little almost-nun was the Lady of Briorn Castle.

Pressure increased in her throat and behind her eyes, and Agnes threw back her blankets. She pictured a different woman there, poised and calm, with an elegant posture and the knowledge of how to deal with Leo. Indeed, Agnes wondered if her sister would've simply gone to the Laird's rooms and demanded she stay there.

Too many thoughts raced in Agnes's head, and the room felt stifling. She nearly ran to the door, darting out into the hall and taking a deep breath. Everything around her was quiet as she walked and walked, choosing halls and stairs at random. She kept trying to find her way outside, with a vague idea of going to the garden, or even down to the loch.

Only, the quiet and the shadows grew as she continued, and she hesitated at the end of a bare, forbidding hall, with moonlight streaming in through windows along one side. Heart beating in her throat, Agnes moved forward as some part of her guessed at where she'd somehow ended up.

Ahead, at the end of the hall, was a large, sturdy oak door. Agnes reached for the silver handle, cool to the touch, and began to pull it open.

But at that moment, a shadow fell over her, and she was yanked backward into a hard and uncompromising chest. Before she could take another breath, a strong arm had pinioned her, and she went still.

For a cool blade now kissed her throat.