“It would be my pleasure to enjoy such company again.” William held out his arm to Aunt Iseabail, his smile courteous. “What other tales do ye have for me, Lady Iseabail?” Alexander’s delightful aunt rewarded William with a large smile of her own.
Alexander escorted Sybella to the great hall, accepting felicitations along the way. Once again, she took her place beside him on the dais and watched men and women flow into the hall for the celebration. She couldn’t help but glance at him and notice the worried expression on his face. She sensed his disquiet, and frankly, the feeling of hopelessness was all too familiar. Watching the health of loved ones fade was by no means an easy feat.
“Does Aunt Iseabail lose her thoughts often?” asked Sybella in a soft tone.
Alexander had opened his mouth to reply when her father raised his tankard and spoke in an impressive voice. “May you travel in the truth on straight paths—be moderate and civil and never abandon reason; may your race be numerous throughout the land. And may you see your great-grandchildren following in your footsteps.”
Cheers were shouted out in response to the marital blessing.
Alexander took a drink from his tankard and then looked directly at Sybella. When he realized she was still waiting for an answer to her question, he sighed. “More often than I would like. Ever since my father passed, her mind has worsened.”
Sybella looked around at the celebratory crowd and began to speak as memories flooded her. “I cared for my ailing mother and barely left her side. This was the same woman who raised me and loved me from the time I was a bairn. When her days were good, they were verra good. When they were bad…”
When he raised his brow, she added, “I think ’tis harder on us to watch their health fail. Aunt Iseabail may call ye by your father’s name and forget the reason for the celebration, but ye still have her. Other than her mind, she seems hale. I know it pains us greatly to see our loved ones nae as they once were, but in truth, ’tis truly a blessing they are still with us. Donna mourn for the past, Alexander. We should be grateful for the time we have left with them—now, in the present.”
Angus and Mary approached the table and Sybella was irked by the intrusion. “Congratulations again, Cousin,” said Angus, giving Sybella a slight bow. “Mary and I are verra joyful for you both.” Mary stood silently by Angus’s side—ever the dutiful wife.
“Thank ye.”
Angus stretched his arm around Mary’s waist. “We shall be taking our leave on the morrow and thank ye for the hospitality, Laird MacDonell. Colin and I are looking forward to getting back to some hunting.”
Sybella tried to stay the pang of regret that washed over her when she remembered all of the things she would miss with her brother. It was almost as if Angus had intentionally rubbed salt on an open wound, a subtle reminder that she was no longer a part of the MacKenzies.
Alexander leaned forward in his chair. “Are ye both skilled with a bow?”
“I am more accomplished than Colin,” said Angus. “It doesnae take too much to best my cousin at anything.”
When Angus gave Mary a conspiratorial poke in the ribs with his elbow, Sybella’s instinctive response was to reach over the table and throttle her witless cousin. Granted, Colin was not adept with a bow, but Angus had no right to tell that to a MacDonell. Although it was difficult, she willfully restrained her tongue, lest there be bloodshed on the day of her wedding—caused by her own hand.
As a peaceful alternative, Sybella shifted in the seat toward Alexander, clearly dismissing her vexing cousins. “My laird, pray excuse me for a moment.” She rose from her chair and walked to her brother’s table without a backward glance.
“Ye must forgive my cousin. She doesnae yet know her place,” said Angus. The MacKenzie man spoke as if he and Alex were longtime friends.
Alex sat back casually in the chair and tapped on the rim of his tankard. “And what place might that be?”
Angus and Mary exchanged a glance full of secret meaning, and then Angus bent his head slightly forward. “If I may speak freely…”
Alex raised his brow and waved his hand. “By all means. I would expect naught less.”
“’Tis nay great secret that my cousin needs lessons in matters of comportment. Ye see…Sybella cared for my aunt for two years, locked up within the stone walls of the castle. ’Tisnae my cousin’s fault, mind ye, but the only companionship to be had was that of her ailing mother and the woman’s soiled linens.”
Angus scrunched up his features in disgust. “That is part of the reason why my cousin is such a spirited lass. In my humble opinion, her father and brother give her far too much leave. But I am sure in time Sybella will come to understand your rules. She only needs a firm hand.” Angus gave Alex a conspiratorial wink.
Alex sat very still, his eyes narrow. “Let me tell ye what I think. The lass watched her mother die, and there was naught my wife could have done but offer her mother comfort—whether by changing her linens or holding her hand. And with ye as my wife’s cousin, nay wonder she stayed within the walls of her mother’s chamber. I donna share your views, and ye will keep them to yourself under my roof. The woman ye speak of is my wife. Do ye understand?”
Angus was puzzled by Alex’s stern attitude, but Alex didn’t care. How typical that they would judge Sybella’s behavior when they had absolutely no idea what circumstances molded the lass. Having had a similar situation with his father, Alex was sympathetic toward her plight.
Clearly dismissing Sybella’s annoying kin, he stood. He had no patience for daft people. He approached Sybella, who still remained at her brother’s table, and she stiffened when Alex touched her waist. “Pray excuse me while I steal my bride for a moment,” he said to Colin. The lass looked startled by the intrusion.
Colin smiled and gave Alex a brief nod. “We will speak later, Sybella.”
“Come. I have something to show ye.”
“Should I be worried?” she asked, raising her brow.
Alex didn’t answer as they walked silently through the bustling halls of Glengarry. When they reached the parapet door, he swung it open and gestured her through. “After ye.”
He followed her swaying hips up the stone staircase and only needed a few seconds to realize that his attempts not to be an arse were not working. When she stepped out onto the parapet, she came to a dead stop. For a moment, the lass forgot to move and let him through the door. He reached out and touched her waist as a gentle reminder.
Sybella moved hastily to the side. “My apologies. ’Tis beautiful.”
The day had turned cloudy, and the sun’s rays peeked sporadically through the clouds in the blue-gray sky. Mossy-green grass surrounded the loch, and the water glimmered with the reflective light of amber hues. This was the view that Alex treasured and often sought.
“I thought ye might be in need of a respite from the celebration.”
“Ye thought that right. ’Tis truly breathtaking.”
“Aye, the view is verra bonny as well.”
Sybella rolled her eyes and smirked. “How long did it take ye to think up that one? I bet ye say that to all the lasses.”
“Only a few.”
When she ignored him, Alex thought to try again. He reached out, swinging her around to face him. “I know this must nae be easy for ye, Sybella. Our clans have been battling for so long that everyone has come to expect it. I am comforted by the thought that the warring will cease with our marriage. There has been too much bloodshed. I am probably the last man ye would want for a husband, but I will be a good one nonetheless. I will protect and care for ye as long as ye stand by my side. In return, my only request is that ye are truthful and stay true to your vows. I donna want a marriage filled with lies and distrust. And I offer ye the same courtesy.”