Page 67 of Kilgannon #1

I STARTED LAUGHING. I KNEW IT WASN’T FUNNY, BUT I HAD to force myself to stop.

When the story came out it was pathetic.

Leitis had Conceived at the end of December.

Malcolm had told her that he loved her, that Sibeal did not understand him, and that if he were free he would marry her in a moment.

But, of course, he was not free. When Leitis had told him she was pregnant, he had told her to say the child was Alex’s.

He’d said that Alex slept with all the young girls and would not remember whether he’d slept with her or not, that many of the children of the clan were Alex’s bastards and that she’d be able to stay if she was bearing the chiefs child.

How anyone could be so gullible amazed me, but she was very young.

Berta, bless her, had been furious and had gathered every maid and helper in the house, all of whom told Leitis that they had never been with Alex.

I listened grimly. If my marriage had not been as sound as it was, this could have been a death knell. Damn him , I thought savagely.

Before dark everyone in the castle had heard the news.

Sibeal and Malcolm did not appear at the next meal or for the evening, and Berta’s girls told me that they could be heard loudly arguing.

Poor Sibeal , I thought, and wished again, for the thousandth time, that Alex were here.

And yet, I told myself, who knew what would be happening now if he were?

He would not take the slur to his honor lightly, and what he would have said to Malcolm I could only guess.

In his absence I would have to talk to Malcolm.

After this morning I had no wish to see him again, but it would have to be done.

I told myself that tomorrow would be soon enough/Poor Sibeal.

How bitter it must be to find this out about her husband.

I wondered how I would react to the news that Alex had been unfaithful.

When I pictured Alex in another woman’s arms I grew enraged at my own creation and I shook my head to clear the image, then went to tend the boys.

They were still awake and I sat with them, talking about inconsequential things before I kissed each of them and received their sleepy hugs in return. “Sleep well,” I said, and closed the door, my heart much lighter than before.

But they did not sleep well. None of us did.

In the wee hours a knock came at my door and I sat up, struggling against the sleep still holding me.

Ian was in the doorway, his eyes huge and his expression frightened.

“It’s Malcolm and Sibeal,” he said. “There are horrible noises coming from their room. It sounds. …” he faltered and I started past him, then turned back.

“Where’s your brother?” I demanded.

“I told him to stay in bed,” Ian said, and I nodded.

“Good. Go to him, my love. Stay there until I come to you.”

“Don’t go, Mama,” he said shakily. He paused and swallowed. “It sounds like a monster in their room’” he whispered.

I stopped then and squeezed him to me. “There is no monster in their room, Ian,” I said calmly while my heart raged. “Just Malcolm and Sibeal. I’ll go and find out what is the matter.”

He raised his chin bravely. “I’ll go with you.”

I shook my head. “No. You will go take care of your brother. Stay with him. I will come to you when I can.” He

nodded .

The corridors had never seemed so long. My candle flickered with my movements as I ran. I saw no one until I rounded the last corner and saw Gilbey standing in tile hall, a knife in his hand. “What are you doing?” I whispered as I moved to his side.

His eyes were wild as they met mine. “If he hits her again, I will stop him,” he said grimly, and I turned to look at the door in horror. “It’s quiet now. I could hear the noise from my room.”

“So could the boys,” I said. His expression changed and softened as he looked at me.

“I dinna think on the boys.” His accent, so carefully neutral most of the time, slipped back whenever he was unsettled.

“We’ll see to them after,” I said, and we looked at the door together.

It was silent on the other side. I knocked then and called.

“Sibeal, Malcolm, it’s Mary. Open the door.

” There was no answer. I knocked again and there was still no answer.

I tried the latch. The door was not locked, and I let it swing open.

She was alone, sobbing in a heap on the floor.

The room looked like a madman had careened through it.

Perhaps that was exactly what happened , I thought, and took a deep breath as I walked slowly toward her.

She did not at first acknowledge my presence or stop sobbing, but when I knelt next to her she threw herself in my arms and spoke incoherently.

When she quieted I pulled back from her and looked at her face.

Her cheeks, still red now from the blows, would be bruised by morning, and a nasty red welt was on her neck, handprints there as well.

I stared at them in horror. Behind me, Gilbey cursed and, turning, strode out of the room.

I gave him only a moment’s thought as I turned back to her.

“Mary,” she croaked. “Why, Mary? Why would he do that? He says it’s my fault. Where did he go?” She sobbed uncontrollably.

Hours later no one still seemed to know where Malcolm was.

He had not been seen leaving. No horse was missing, nor boat, and it seemed unlikely that he would have left on foot.

All of his things were here, even his money.

Where could he have gone on foot without money?

I could only imagine that he was being sheltered by a friend, no doubt the same one who told him of the letter, I thought bitterly. But no one told us anything of him.

Sibeal spoke very little. Most of the time she stared off into the distance, tears trickling down her cheeks.

After two days I roused her and made her come downstairs, where she sat in the hall, pale and listless, and let the noise of everyday activity flow around her.

The boys tried to talk to her, but she only smiled vacantly, and they did not try again.

I must have asked myself a thousand times where Alex was.

Malcolm would never have behaved as he had if his brother or Angus, or even Matthew, had been home.

Malcolm walked into the hall a week later, on a rainy morning when Gilbey and Thomas had gone to Glengannon looking for him. I rose, flanked by the boys, and faced him. He bowed and smiled as though he’d come for tea, while he searched the hall.

“Where is my wife?” His tone was light, his expression calm, and I felt my temper rise. Several of the men who had been about the hall gathered now, watching us with wary glances.

“Sibeal is upstairs, Malcolm,” I said. “She—”

He interrupted me with a sharp gesture. “We argued, Mary. It was nothing more than that. Dinna exaggerate.”

I tried to keep my voice even. “I am not exaggerating, Malcolm. I’ve said nothing beyond that she is upstairs. But you may not see her.” Dougall came to stand at my side.

“Oh?” Malcolm looked at me with scorn. The boys looked from him to me, Jamie drawing nearer to my skirts.

The men stiffened and waited. “Really? I’d advise ye to stay out of my marriage There are things ye dinna understand, Countess.

” He spun oil “his heel and loped up the stairs. I stood with my mouth open for a moment and then followed him, the boys and Dougall and several of the men at my heels. Berta stood in the hallway outside Sorcha’s room, looking at the closed door.

I did not even pause but flung it open, and there was Sibeal, crying as she sat up in bed, her arms about Malcolm. Both of them looked up as I entered.

Sibeal gave a shaky laugh, her smile triumphant. “I knew he’d return,” she said, and Malcolm smiled his sly smile. I looked from him to Sibeal and closed my mouth.

“Leave us, Mary. Yer not wanted here,” said Malcolm.

“Not until Sibeal tells me that’s what she wants”

She smiled at her husband. “It is. I knew he’d come.”

I nodded then and backed out, pulling the boys with me.

In the hallway I exchanged looks with Dougall, who shrugged.

The men were already fading away, and I took each boy by the hand as we left.

I do not believe I explained it well to them.

How could I, when I did not understand it myself?

There she was, the bruises he’d caused still vivid on her skin, and she had opened her arms to him.

We walked along the loch and I did my best, but none of us was certain what had happened.

Malcolm and Sibeal left that afternoon. Malcolm stood aloof and did not bid me farewell, but Sibeal embraced me, and I peered into her eyes and tried one more time.

“Is this truly what you want?” I asked her. “You do know that you can stay here with us?”

She nodded with a slight smile and a shrug. “I love him, Mary,” she said. Defeated, I released her and watched them ride away. Later I discovered that Malcolm had spent the week with a woman he’d often kept company with in Glengannon. Gilbey and Thomas would have found him that morning.