Page 49

The ruins of Carlisle Castle

Northern Highlands

T he rattling of the door warned Aileana of her visitor a moment before the heavy wooden slab swung open. Colin stood in the open portal, a half-grin on his face and what looked to be the same leather cord he’d threatened her with in the glen, dangling from his grip.

“Come,” he said, walking toward her. “I must bind your hands to take you from this chamber.”

“Why? Where am I going?” Aileana asked, backing up and turning her face away when he attempted to stroke his fingers down her cheek.

In retaliation, he took her chin in a cruel grip, forcing her to look at him.

“You’ve been a naughty little lassie, Aileana MacDonell.

Your sister is not very happy with you or the tricks you’ve played.

And while I’d almost convinced her to let me punish you properly,” he leaned forward to breathe the words, hot and moist, into her ear as he pinched her buttock, “she denied me the pleasure at the last moment in favor of speaking with you herself.”

Yanking herself away from his groping hands, Aileana made a sound of disgust, which only made Colin laugh.

None too gently he spun her away from him, making quick work of lacing her wrists together with the leather cord.

After tugging the knots several times to ensure their hold, he gripped her arm, dragging her along to keep pace with his strides.

Soon they entered a dark, musty corridor where water seeped in rivulets down to the slimy stones of the floor.

Aileana fought the urge to wrinkle her nose with the odor pervading the enclosed area, a revolting blend of urine, decay, and sweat.

It was worse, even, than the chamber in which she’d been held.

But before long they reached an archway, blocked by a wooden door bound in bands of steel.

After Colin made a series of taps on it, it swung open, bathing them in golden light.

When Colin pulled her through to the brightness on the other side, Aileana had to squint.

As her vision adjusted, she saw that she was in a room as startling in its opulence as the corridor had been for its deterioration.

At the far end of the chamber, across a floor of expensive wood inlay, sat a golden chair on a dais.

And reclining in the chair sat a poised Morgana.

All that lacked for a completed portrait of royalty was a golden circlet for her sister’s head.

She was dressed richly in blue velvet trimmed with ermine, her glossy hair falling in loose waves to her waist, unencumbered except for a sapphire-trimmed comb that held the weight of it back from her face. But she wasn’t wearing the Ealach anymore, Aileana noticed at once.

Without further delay, Colin pushed her forward, his fist to the small of her back, urging her closer to her sister’s seat of power.

He moved so fast that Aileana thought she might trip with the pace.

But she kept her footing, holding herself stiff and proud as she approached the dais.

Then he jerked her to a halt, and Morgana met his gaze before shifting to look at her.

Facing her now, Aileana felt stung by her own uncertainty and fear. Morgana refused to speak. She just sat, studying her. When Aileana could stand the silence no longer, she blurted, “Where’s the amulet, Morgana, and why have you brought me here?”

Her sister didn’t answer for a long moment. She seemed to be struggling with her thoughts, her expression softer now than it had been in the glen. Then she leaned back and sighed.

With false courage Aileana took a step forward, but Colin’s hold on her upper arm tightened. His fingers dug into her flesh, forcing a small gasp from her as the pain of his grip radiated down her arm and into her wrist.

“Cease, Colin. Unbind her hands,” Morgana snapped, flicking her wrist in a motion of annoyance. As Colin hurried to obey the directive she added, “Aileana will not attempt any further foolishness.” She pierced her with her gaze, her brow arching. “Will you little sister?”

Rubbing her arm and wrists, Aileana swallowed the nausea and fear that had climbed into her throat. She shook her head. “Nay. I only wish to speak reason with you, Morgana.”

“Reason?” Morgana’s blue eyes widened slightly, and a smile curved her full lips. “How quaint…and how stupid as well. I warned you in the glen; there is much more at stake here than you realize.”

Looking away, Morgana rose from her chair to walk over to one of the beautiful tapestries hanging on the wall.

The fabric of her skirts whispered in velvety folds as she moved from the dais down the tiny, gilded steps to the delicately embroidered wall hanging.

Aileana watched in silence, glad her sister didn’t know of her dread, of the way her heart skipped along at a speed that made her breathless.

She didn’t know what to think or do at this moment.

She couldn’t force Morgana to tell her where she’d hidden the Ealach .

And yet strangely enough, she was having difficulty sensing its presence now herself.

Morgana ran a pointed fingernail over the figures woven into the tapestry, teasing the image of a unicorn about to impale a warrior at full tilt.

When she turned to face Aileana again, her arm dropped to her side.

“Your little games have placed me in a difficult position, sister. One of my scouts found this, not a mile from my holding.”

As she spoke, she held up a scrap of the plaid that Aileana had been leaving all along their path north. Then she lifted the ruined shawl of the same fabric, casting a dark look at its tattered edges, which were clearly jagged from where numerous bits of cloth had been torn away.

“Care to explain, Aileana,” she asked smoothly, “or should I simply release you to Colin to do with you as he pleases in order to make you confess the information?”

Aileana felt herself blanch. But she wouldn’t show weakness in front of either of them.

She couldn’t; not if she wanted to survive.

Stiffening her back, she fixed a superior gaze on her sister.

“There is no need to explain anything, Morgana. You’re very well aware of what I did and why I did it—and furthermore, I’d warrant you’d have done the very same thing had you been in my position. ”

To Aileana’s surprise, Morgana threw her head back and laughed, only looking at her again when the mirth had passed, though its shadow remained in her cold, cruel eyes.

“Well said,” Morgana replied at last, “and likely quite true. But that is neither here nor there. Your ploy still presents me with a problem that I’d tried my best to avoid, and yet—” She broke off her comment to glance away, tapping her fingertip against her lips as if in thought.

“It might be turned to our advantage, even so…”

Sliding her gaze back to her, Morgana strolled over and, reaching down, brought Aileana’s left hand to eye level.

“What an interesting design,” she murmured, shifting for a more thorough view of Duncan’s betrothal ring.

“I only saw it closely once before, and for but a few moments. Mairi was already dead, then.” She blinked, looking Aileana straight in the eye and making her flinch involuntarily at the cold hate spilling from her gaze.

“It is clear that you’ve been busy in more ways than one, Aileana, and if Duncan takes the bait you’ve left for him, it will prove to be your downfall, as well as his.” She released Aileana as if her touch had dirtied her.

“What are you talking about?” Aileana barely found her voice to croak the question.

“Ah, you haven’t guessed?” Morgana lifted a finger to her mouth, tilting her chin down and smiling as she peered at Aileana.

“Well, I suppose it cannot hurt to reveal it to you now. You’re powerless to stop me anyway.

It is simple, really. I never felt that the Tower was enough punishment for Duncan after what he did to me, but I’d accepted it as all I was likely to get. ”

Morgana shrugged. “His coming here, though, will change everything.” Reaching out, she smoothed back Aileana’s hair with unexpected tenderness, her expression sweet, innocent, and deadly. “Because then, little sister…then Duncan must die.”

An hour later, Morgana leaned on the window opening in her chamber, her side pressed against the delicate, arching curve of the stonework.

She held the curtain back with one hand, tilting her head to see through the slit in the shutter.

Beyond the courtyard, the glen looked quiet.

Undisturbed. But it wouldn’t remain so for long.

Not if her scout was accurate in the information he’d reported back to her.

Duncan was on his way to the ruins of Carlisle at this very moment, coming to finish what he’d started—and he’d brought more than two score warriors with him.

With a muted swish, she let the curtain swing back, cutting off the slash of daylight.

She paced over to the hearth, basking in the glow of the huge logs that burned there.

The warmth enveloped her like wool, and she breathed in the heat as she curled up in a chair nearby.

Tucking her silken overdress secure round her legs, she rested her head against the chair-back.

Duncan’s approach was but another momentary inconvenience.

It would all come to fruition soon. The waiting was almost over.

She drew her knees up, and the movement made Duncan’s betrothal ring dig into her thigh.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the circle of gold to study it in the firelight.

A frown weighted her lips. She’d almost failed to get the ring from Aileana’s finger.

Her sister had struggled to prevent her taking it, even after the sleeping herbs had been administered.

Such resistance to the herb’s potency was unusual and indicative of a strong will, and it cast an ill omen on the day’s work.

But all that would change once Duncan arrived. Then her prophecies would come to pass. Duncan might come by stealth or charge the very gates, but come he would. And she would be ready.

Slipping the ruby ring over her finger, Morgana clasped her hand into a fist and squeezed her eyes shut. The metal branded her skin. It circled her finger, solid, heavy and perfect, just as she’d envisioned it. As it had been meant to be.

But it was too late for such imaginings.

Yanking it off, she dropped it into her lap, watching as its muted gold shimmered with reflections of orange and amber flames.

Her dream of a life with Duncan had died more than a decade ago.

Faded away, but for remnants of desire that flickered to the surface every now and again.

Colin had always proved useful at such times, providing the comfort she’d needed to keep her focus.

To help her proceed with her plans. And now it was time.

Duncan would come, seeking her out in his quest for Aileana and the Ealach .

But he’d never guess what he was going to find once he reached her castle.

Morgana pushed herself from her chair and tossed the ring up in the air, following it with her gaze, until it dropped heavily back into her palm.

Aye, Duncan would come, and she couldn’t wait to watch his reaction.

It would be as enjoyable, perhaps, as watching him find the gift she’d left stretched out dying beside him in his own dungeon thirteen years ago.

Except that this time, the woman he’d claimed as his own wouldn’t be offered as a passive reminder of his sins.

Nay. Aileana would serve as the live temptation to draw Duncan into her gilded trap.

Morgana dropped his betrothal ring back into her pocket.

With Duncan secured and helpless, the real amusement could begin.

This time, when the trap door snapped down, she’d see that it was done with expertise, crushing him with force enough to extinguish the last spark of life from his strong, unyielding body…

because if she couldn’t have him, no one could.

She would make sure of it.