Page 21 of To Wed a Witch (Reluctant Brides #3)

T he following morning after discussions with the MacNeils, Bhaltair had doubled the guards and posted sentries at every entrance. No one was to enter or leave without his knowledge.

"I want to ken every person who sets foot on our land," he told Dugald firmly. "Sutherland's growing desperate, and desperate men make dangerous choices."

By midday, reports had come in of strangers seen near the village borders, and Bhaltair could wait no longer.

"We ride out," he announced to Ewan. "If Sutherland is skulking about, we'll flush him out."

"I'm coming with ye," Lileas declared, already reaching for her cloak.

"Absolutely not," Ewan replied. "It's too dangerous."

"Which is exactly why ye need me," Lileas shot back, her eyes flashing. "If there's trouble, ye'll need every advantage."

The argument that followed was fierce. Lileas MacNeil was not a woman to be denied when she'd set her mind to something.

"Fine," Ewan finally conceded in exasperation. "But ye stay back if there's fighting, and ye do as I say, or I'll never let ye out of our Keep again."

"We'll see about that," Lileas muttered, but she was already moving toward the stables.

Sìne watched from the battlements as they rode out—Bhaltair and Ewan with a dozen of their best men, and Lileas despite her husband's continued protests.

The sight of them disappearing into the afternoon mist should have been reassuring, but something cold settled in her stomach as they vanished from view.

She spent the remainder of the afternoon tending to Keep duties, trying to distract herself from her growing unease. The tense atmosphere, the way even the servants spoke in hushed whispers, all of it put her on edge.

Eventually she decided to check on Aidyn. The little one had been fussy all day, as though she too sensed the tension in the air.

But when Sìne reached the nursery chamber, she found it empty.

Not just empty but abandoned. Aidyn's cradle sat barren, her favorite blanket gone along with the small wooden toys Bhaltair had carved for her. She immediately ran to Paisley's chamber to check there.

"Paisley?" Sìne called, her voice echoing strangely in the hollow room.

"Aidyn?" She noticed Paisley's belongings had vanished as well.

Panic began to claw at her throat as she searched each chamber.

There was no sign of struggle, no indication of where they might have gone. They had simply... vanished.

She was back down in the Great Hall, standing in the doorway, her heart hammering with dread, when a young boy appeared at her elbow.

"Mistress?" he said hesitantly. "I've a message for ye."

With trembling hands, Sìne unfolded the parchment. The words seemed to blur and swim as their meaning crashed over her:

Sìne MacKay – I have yer bairn. If ye wish to see her alive, come alone to the stone circle in Agan's Glen within the hour. Tell no one, and I will trade her life for yers. If ye bring a guard, ye will never see her again... Yer Friendly Neighbor.

The letter fluttered from Sìne's numb fingers as a sound escaped her throat. It was half sob, half scream. Aidyn. Sutherland had her precious Aidyn.

"M'lady? What's wrong?"

Sìne spun to find Ada, the housekeeper, hurrying toward her with concern written across her weathered features.

"I... I can't..." Sìne's voice broke completely as she gestured helplessly at the fallen letter.

Ada snatched up the parchment, her face growing pale as she read. "Holy saints preserve us," she breathed. "But who is this neighbor?"

"Laird Sutherland."

"Av mercy," Ada replied and crossed herself.

"I have to go," Sìne said frantically, already moving toward her chamber to gather her cloak. "I have to go now, or he'll..."

"Ye're not going alone," Ada said firmly, following close behind. "I'll not let ye walk into that monster's trap without someone to watch yer back."

"But the letter says—"

"The letter says ye can't bring a guard. It says nothing about an old woman who might happen to be taking a walk in the glen with a dirk tucked away here and there." Ada's eyes were sharp. "I've been caring for this family longer than ye've been alive, lass. I'll not stop now."

They made it as far as the stables before Greig, one of the watchmen, spotted them.

"Mistress? Where are ye going at this hour? Ye should not be out without a guard."

Sìne opened her mouth to lie, but Ada forestalled her with a sharp look.

"Greig! How dare ye question the mistress," she replied. "Can she not take a simple ride to clear her mind without yer blatherin?"

"If it's an outing she needs, then I'll accompany her," Greig replied.

Ada glared at him, then decided honesty was the best path, seeing as they were hard pressed for time. She blurted out the contents of the letter to Greig despite Sìne's protests.

Greig's expression grew thunderous. "Ye're not going anywhere near that bastard, mistress," he said flatly. "Not without proper protection. Ye need to wait for the laird."

"Ye dinnae understand. Time is precious," Sìne protested desperately. "And if he sees guards—"

"Then he will not see me," Greig interrupted. "I'll follow at a distance, hidden in the trees. But ye're not facing that devil alone."

Unknown to any of them, a kitchen maid had been lingering near the stables, hoping to catch a glimpse of the visiting MacNeil guards.

She heard every word of their heated discussion, and when the trio finally rode out into the gathering dusk, she ran straight back to the Keep with her shocking news.

Within minutes, word had spread through Ferguson Keep like wildfire. Their lady was riding into mortal danger to save the laird's daughter, and the person holding Aidyn said if Sìne did not go alone, they would harm the child.

"We can't let her face this alone," declared Tavish, a clan elder.

"Aye," agreed several others. "She and the wee bairn are our kin!"

"But we cannot just ride in there all bluster and make things worse!" another piped in.

"Then we do it quietly," Tavish replied grimly, already reaching for his sword. "Send word to the laird. I'll be leading a small group of men to the stones. The rest of ye remain here!"

***

A GAN'S GLEN LAY HALF a mile from Ferguson Keep, a circular clearing surrounded by ancient standing stones centuries old.

Local legend claimed it was a place of power, where the veil between worlds grew thin.

By the time Sìne reached Agan's Glen, a strange mist had begun to descend over the field.

Not the natural fog that often cloaked these lands, but something different.

It swirled around the ancient standing stones like a living thing, muffling sound and distorting shadows.

In the center of the circle, she could make out three figures: Bryce Sutherland standing tall and arrogant, Paisley holding something in her arms...

"Aidyn," Sìne breathed, dismounting and running toward the stones.

Her daughter's fussing cries echoed across the glen, the sound tearing at Sìne's heart. The child was reaching for her, little arms extended in desperate plea.

"Let her come to me," Sìne called out as she approached the circle. "Please, she's frightened."

Sutherland nodded curtly to Paisley, who stepped forward with obvious reluctance. The moment Aidyn was in her arms, Sìne felt a surge of relief so powerful it nearly brought her to her knees.

"There," Sutherland said with false magnanimity. "Ye see? I'm not without mercy. Now, shall we discuss the terms of our exchange?" He looked to a point beyond her and scowled. "I thought I told ye to come alone!"

Sìne whipped her head behind her to see it was Ada, clambering toward the stones in the distance.

"Ye said no guards. 'Tis just our elderly housekeeper. She is no threat."

Sutherland viewed her warily, and Sìne noticed that Ada seemed to hobble more than she usually did, giving the appearance of a frail woman.

"Well, she better not make trouble, or I'll run her through."

The mist was growing thicker by the moment, swirling around the ancient stones in unnatural patterns. Even Sutherland began to notice it as he looked about.

Then Sìne heard it. The voices. The ones she often talked to back at her little cottage on MacKay land. They were low murmurings at first.

"Paisley," she whispered urgently, "we can escape in this fog. He'll never find us if we run now."

To her surprise, Paisley began to laugh. It was a sound so cold and cruel that it sent ice through Sìne's veins.

"Why would I do that?" Paisley asked, her voice completely different now. No longer the warm, loyal maid but something mocking and malicious.

Understanding crashed over Sìne. "No," she whispered. "Ye wouldn't..."

"Oh, but I would," Paisley replied, her familiar features twisting into something ugly. "Allow me to properly introduce myself, Lady Ferguson. Paisley Sutherland, at yer service. Cousin to Bryce here, and the one who's been working to keep ye from this marriage since the very beginning."

"The rumors," Sìne breathed, the full scope of the betrayal becoming clear. "The stories that followed me from MacKay lands..."

"All my handiwork," Paisley confirmed with obvious pride. "Every whisper about yer supposed curse, every tale of misfortune that befell those around ye. I spread them like seeds on fertile ground, and they took root beautifully."

"But ye helped deliver Aidyn," Sìne protested desperately. "Ye cared for her..."

"I kept her safe because she was useful," Paisley replied coldly. "A perfect tool for controlling ye, and eventually getting what we want. Though I must admit, I grew rather fond of the wee sprite. Perhaps I'll keep her when this is over."

Sìne stood in shock and clutched a whimpering Aidyn tighter. All this time the enemy was in her own home. "But why now?"

"Ye were not supposed to marry! But yer da kept guards watching ye once the wedding was announced, then that bloody Ferguson moved ye into his chambers and kept ye close. 'Tis infuriating how much he loves ye!"