Nervously, Sybella moistened her dry lips. “Alex, when ye see Colin, would ye be so kind as to deliver a message for me?”
“Of course.” He placed his elbow on the table and leaned in close. “And what message might that be?”
Uncertainty made her voice harsh and demanding. “Could ye tell my brother that I will do as he asks?” She paused. “He asked me to make something for Anabel.”
“Aye. Is everything all right? Ye seem…troubled.”
“Nay worries, Husband.” Giving him a slow, secret smile, she understood exactly what she had to do.
Sybella, Rosalia, and Aunt Iseabail walked the men to the bailey. Sybella watched in awe as Ciaran lifted his hand and caressed his wife’s cheek. He lowered his head and his lips pressed against Rosalia’s, tender and passionate. It was somewhat hard to believe that this was the same man who supposedly killed the Campbell laird. She mentally corrected herself: the bloody Campbell.
Ciaran pulled away and tucked a piece of hair behind Rosalia’s ear. “Tha gaol agam ort.” I love you. He ruffled Lachlann’s hair. “I will return with much haste. And ye, my little lad, will see to your mother.” When he stepped away, he winked broadly at Rosalia.
“Ella.”
Sybella’s private musings were quickly interrupted. She surprised herself when she turned and embraced Alex without any hesitation. “Please be careful, Husband. And donna forget to tell Colin what I told ye.”
Alex’s strong arms continued to hold her, and she briefly closed her eyes. She was hesitant to admit it, but his touch felt wonderful. Sybella breathed in his spicy scent and sighed. She couldn’t understand how she could feel comforted by the very man her kin wanted to destroy. This was the same man who had been a sworn enemy of the MacKenzies for so long. And from what she had seen, there was no justification whatsoever for that stance. Alex portrayed nothing but kindness and compassion, whereas her own kin…She was disgusted at the thought.
Her family had woven so many words into their verbal web that Sybella wasn’t sure what was right or wrong anymore. She could only trust the one person she had always depended upon—herself.
Sybella pulled away, and for a long moment, she simply looked back at her husband. She suddenly felt like the breathless girl at the waterfall. Her eyes portrayed what she already knew she felt in her heart. Praise the saints. She was falling in love with him. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but the admission was dredged from a place beyond logic and reason. And the worst part was that she gave the man no reason to trust her. His own wife.
She had to try to make amends.
Alex wrapped his arms around Sybella’s waist. “I should return by this eve. I will try to make haste.” His voice lowered and his mouth curved into an unconscious smile. “And I will deliver your message to your brother.” He paused longer than necessary, and she wasn’t sure if he wanted her to say something. He looked around uncomfortably, and then his eyes met hers. “I will miss ye, Ella.”
Before she could respond, she watched his broad back turn and he swung up onto his mount.
“Aunt Iseabail, I leave it to ye to make sure my cousin and my wife donna get into mischief.”
Aunt Iseabail waved Alex off. “Those two are the least of your worries. Ye should be worried about what trouble I get them into, Nephew.”
He again met Sybella’s gaze, and a deep, unaccustomed pain formed in her breast. “Dia leat,” she said under her breath. God be with you.
She had to find that bloody stone.
Sybella quickly made her excuses to Rosalia and Aunt Iseabail. She opened the door to Alex’s chamber, thinking her husband’s room might be a good place to start. When a pang of guilt washed over her, she immediately pushed the feeling aside. In order to have a future, she reminded herself that she needed to correct the past.
She walked over to the stone fireplace and lifted the portrait of Alexander’s father. A chill shot down her spine when she touched the painting. If a bolt of lightning had struck her where she stood, she wouldn’t have been surprised. She rubbed her fingers along the rough stone wall where everything felt solid, secure. Nothing shook in its place.
She approached the giant bed with its tall corner posts and ran her fingers over the blankets. Every time she had been close with Alex had been in her own bed, and she wondered what it would be like to sleep—or not sleep—in his. He was a powerful laird. She couldn’t help but remember him as he touched her, satisfied her. She hungered from the memory of his mouth on hers. In spite of the task at hand, thoughts of him intruded.
She shook her head, hurtled back to earth as reality struck.
“Find the stone, Sybella,” she said out loud. She lowered herself to the floor and felt for an indentation or anything that moved under the bed. “Find the stone and put an end to this madness once and for all.”
She stood and brushed off her skirts. “Of course this couldnae be an easy task,” she said, tapping her finger to her lip. “Where would ye keep something like that, Husband?”
Sybella looked around the room but nothing stood out at her. She moved the table by the bed and even looked underneath. She opened Alex’s trunk and searched through his clothing. Absolutely nothing. If he wouldn’t keep the stone in his chamber, where would he keep it?
She remembered Colin’s words.
The library.
Placing her ear to the bedchamber door, she first listened for anyone who might be in the hall. She stepped out and closed the door. With hastened steps, Sybella made her way to the library. Colin was probably right. A hollowed-out book was a great place to hide the stone.
She made it to the library undetected and quickly closed the door. The last thing she wanted to be was disturbed. She approached the first shelf and picked up a book, fingering through the pages. It was just a book. She pulled out the next one and unfortunately had the same result. By the time Sybella had searched through some of the larger tomes, she realized she should have given up some time ago. The stone was obviously not in the library.
Something clicked in her mind.
Surely Alex wouldn’t hide the stone in the dungeon. The last place she wanted to be was there. She kept that revelation stored in the back of her mind. If she had no choice, she would be forced to check there—as a last resort, with all options exhausted. She cringed at the idea of returning to that unsavory pit of hell.
Sybella rubbed her brow. There was a lot of space to cover in this castle, and worse yet, she searched by herself. What if she couldn’t find the stone? She refused to think about that and hastily made her way to Alex’s study, his private domain.
With its masculine touches, the room reminded her of him. The MacDonell crest hung on the wall behind a large wooden desk, and a shield with matching swords hung on the opposite wall. When she spotted another shelf lined with books, she held hope that maybe her luck hadn’t run out yet.
She picked up the first book and flipped through the pages. She was so frustrated that she wanted to scream. All of the books were simply that. Books. She ran her fingers behind the MacDonell crest and didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. At this rate, her search was going to take forever. She walked to the opposite wall and ran her hand behind the shield and swords, hastily pulling back her finger when a sharp blade cut her.