She bolted upright and came face to face with an arrow that penetrated the tree. Praise the saints. Her husband’s jesting was completely out of control. It was one thing to pretend to take aim at the man’s arse but entirely another to take aim at her head. If the arrow had struck her, she would’ve been seriously injured or…dead.
Pulling out the arrow with a purpose, Sybella went in search of her husband. “Alex! Alexander!” she bellowed. Fury almost choked her, and curses fell from her mouth.
As her husband approached her, she threw words at him like stones. He stared at her, puzzled, while she continued her rant.
She slapped the arrow into his chest. “How dare ye! Nay matter how skilled I am, I would ne’er take aim at someone else’s head. What the hell is wrong with ye?”
The man simply stood there, blinking with confusion. “Ella, what are ye talking about?”
Sybella pointed to the arrow he held in his hands. “I donna appreciate ye taking aim at my head nay matter how amusing ye think ’tis. If I would have moved, ye could have killed me.”
Alex stood to his full height and his eyes narrowed. He turned his head slowly from side to side and then lowered his voice. “Ella, ’tisnae my arrow.”
Nine
Sybella’s eyes widened. “What do ye mean, ’tisnae your arrow?”
A chill ran up Alex’s spine as he turned and escorted Sybella firmly by the elbow. “The hunt is over. Walk quickly back to your mount. Now.” With senses heightened, his eyes darted around the trees, brush, anything that held even the slightest of movements.
“Ye are making me nervous. If that isnae your arrow, do ye think someone deliberately took aim for my head?”
He increased his gait. “I donna know and I will see ye safe before I find out.”
The lass almost had to run to keep up with him. “Why would someone want to…I know your clan wasnae exactly thrilled to have me as your wife, but I thought my dowry would more than make up for their uncertainties.”
The woman needed to learn when to keep her opinions to herself. How typical of a MacKenzie to blame a MacDonell. And who said the arrow was shot by one of his kin? When he did not respond, Sybella’s face clouded with uneasiness.
“I didnae mean to accuse your—”
“Then donna,” Alex simply stated.
When they reached their mounts, he lifted Sybella onto her horse and handed her the reins. “I think the man is nay longer here, but I cannae be certain. Ye ride behind me, close, and as fast as ye can. I will nae chance another shot. Do ye understand?”
She nodded wordlessly and he left her no room for debate.
They rode through the forest cautiously, and when they reached the main path, Alex gave his mount his head. They traveled hard and fast on the trail back to Glengarry, with Alex looking back several times to make certain his wife was safe. Not much surprised him about her. The lass had managed to hold her seat throughout their hastened journey home. And she followed his commands like a seasoned warrior, without question.
As they thundered into the bailey, Alex called to John, who stood upon the parapet. Alex quickly dismounted and walked over to Sybella. He lowered her to the ground and then gestured to one of his guards.
“Escort my wife to her chamber.” He turned and placed his hands on Sybella’s shoulders. “Go to your chamber and donna come out until I come for you. Feumaidh mi falbh,” he said sternly. I must go.
“Glè mhath,” she said, eyeing him with concern. Very well. “Be safe, my laird.”
Alex watched the lass take her leave and then he whirled on John. “Someone took a shot at my wife.”
“What?”
Alex walked over to his mount and pulled the arrow out of his bag. Handing the arrow to John, he said, “Luckily, the lass had bent over, but it barely missed her head.”
John took the arrow and studied the feathers. “I donna recognize it.”
“Before the trail becomes cold, seek our best tracker and I will take ye to where we hunted.”
John’s eyes widened in surprise. “Ye took your new wife hunting? That was your brilliant idea to woo her?”
Alex shrugged. “The lass seemed to enjoy it before someone took aim at her head.”
As if Alex’s words brought John back to purpose, the captain of the guard took his leave. Alex mounted his horse and impatiently waited for his men to return, his mind racing.
Who the hell would want to take a shot at his wife? Granted, she was a MacKenzie, but she was merely a lass. The whole circumstance did not make sense. If his clan had wanted to do harm, they would’ve attempted something while the MacKenzie was underfoot. He shook off the idea. It was not his clan. The MacDonell men were loyal to a fault.
When John returned with Ian, Alex exchanged a carefully guarded look with John. Although Alex was reluctant to admit it, Ian was their best tracker. However, Alex could not ignore how careless the man had been with his duties of late. Between not keeping a watchful eye on the MacKenzie’s son and letting an aging woman slip through his grasp, Ian was currently not held in a favorable light. This was the man’s last chance at redemption.
The men mounted their horses, clomping hoofbeats storming through the gate. Alex led John and Ian to the same area where he and Sybella had tethered their mounts. The men dismounted and Alex nodded over his shoulder.
“We only walked but a few yards into the trees.”
John and Ian followed him into the brush, and then Ian stopped. “Did ye walk away from Lady MacDonell here and walk that way?” asked Ian, pointing to Alex’s right.
“Aye, that is my trail and the lass walked this way,” said Alex, gesturing to the left.
Ian continued to survey the path along which Sybella had walked. “Lady MacDonell stopped here.” He searched the small area and rubbed his fingers over the bark of the tree, discovering where Sybella had pulled the arrow out. “From the placement of the arrow, the shot was taken from over there. In order to nae compromise the signs, it would be best if ye remained here, my laird. I will encircle this section and try to pick up on the man’s trail.”
Alex nodded and watched Ian study the ground for clues to guide them.
“Who do ye think would want to take a shot at your new wife’s head?” asked John, leaning his sword against the tree.
“I donna know. Our known enemy is the MacKenzie, but God’s teeth, I wed the man’s daughter. If it was the MacKenzie, surely the daft fool would take aim for my head and nae that of his own daughter. I donna like it.”
“Alex, I donna know what ye are thinking, but our clan would ne’er plot something against a lass—even if she was a MacKenzie.”
Alex ran his hand through his hair. “And I know as much. That is what troubles me. If nae the MacKenzies or the MacDonells, then who?”
“My laird,” said Ian, returning with a disgusted look upon his face. “There is nay trail.”
Alex raised his brow in surprise. “What do ye mean?”
“There are nay signs of another man.”
Sybella sat confined in her bedchamber for hours. She paced, sat, slept, and paced some more. How much longer would she be made to suffer? She couldn’t for the life of her discern who would intentionally try to injure her—or worse. Granted, she wasn’t sure of the number of enemies her father had managed to gather over the years, but it couldn’t be that many. A sudden thought popped into her mind and she stilled.
Praise the saints.
She was under the roof of her father’s enemy. Could a MacDonell have enough hatred for her that he would want to kill her? That made no sense. Alex’s clan had already benefited from her dowry. Her death would serve no purpose—unless, of course, her husband found her out and wanted her removed as his wife, permanently. Sybella heard herself swallow.