“God’s teeth, lad, but ye are impatient,” she bit out. “Ye remind me much of your father. Dòmhnall told me years ago when we burnt down the MacKenzie’s church that he found the stone. This relic was of such importance to the MacKenzie clan that my brother trusted nay one. I was the only person he told and we spoke of it once.”
“All right. Where is this stone and what does it look like?”
She made a circle with her hands. “’Tis of a brownish color, about this big, and has a hole in the center.”
“Did Father give it to ye? Where is it?”
“Placed into the eye of the Rock of the Raven.” When Alex raised his brow, she quickly added, “Under your feet in the great hall, Nephew.” She finally sat down in the chair. “When I saw your wife running her foot over the eye of the raven, I remembered that was what Dòmhnall meant in his letter to ye. And the way your bonny wife studied the raven, it seems she has discovered her clan’s stone.”
For the first time in his life, Alex could say that he was rendered speechless. Aunt Iseabail was right about one thing: his father had never mentioned the fact that he held this seeing stone of the MacKenzies. And leave it to his sire to place the damn rock in the middle of the great hall, no less. Alex shook his head at his father’s arrogance. Then again, his father had more than likely never expected Alex to wed a MacKenzie.
He suddenly had another disturbing thought. If the tale Aunt Iseabail spoke was true, the stone was something the MacKenzie would not easily forget. What better way for a MacKenzie to recover the stone than by offering the hand of his daughter to Alex.
He quickly shook off the thought as ice spread through his veins. He tried to think clearly, not permitting his emotions to rule. He refused to race to conclusions until he spoke with Sybella.
“Thank ye, Aunt. I would ask that ye donna mention this to anyone, especially Rosalia or Sybella.”
Her eyes widened. “I may be old, but I am nae a daft fool, Nephew.” She rose. “I know Dòmhnall risked discovery by taking the stone. I leave it to ye to make certain it stays where it belongs.”
He nodded. “I will take care of it. Can ye see yourself to the garden?”
“Alexander…”
He waved her off. “Of course ye can.”
Alex sat down behind his father’s desk and poured himself a drink. He could not stop himself from pondering and wanted to put all of the pieces together. Did Sybella know? The question continued to hammer at him. Perhaps she didn’t. He could not simply ignore how gentle and loving his wife was. She was everything the MacKenzie clan was not. And he was proud to call her wife.
A thought froze in his mind.
Even thinking about the idea killed him. But what if Sybella did know of the stone? The harder Alex tried to ignore the truth, the more it persisted. He downed the rest of his drink, realizing these wild ideas were driving him mad. He’d told Sybella repeatedly that he wanted nothing but honesty between them.
He decided to simply ask her.
Alex walked to the great hall and stopped at the clan crest. He never would’ve noticed that the stone was different in the eye of the raven if Aunt Iseabail hadn’t told him. Now he could see it as clear as day. He bent down and tugged at the rock, making sure it was still secure in its place.
“Alex.”
He stood as John walked toward him, a troubled expression upon his brow.
“What is it?”
John lowered his voice. “Mayhap we should go to your study.”
Alex nodded and once again found himself walking to his study. When John closed the door behind him, Alex grunted.
“Am I going to need another drink? I’ve already had my fill with Aunt Iseabail.” When John merely nodded, Alex sat down behind his father’s desk and poured them both some ale. He handed John a cup. “I am almost afraid to ask.”
“Alex, I am your friend. We are as brothers, but ye also made me the captain of your guard. I have a duty, responsibility.”
Alex spoke hesitantly. “Aye…”
“There is nay easy way to say this, but I must.” John took a drink from his tankard and then met Alex’s gaze. “Did ye speak with your wife about the dungeon?”
Alex shifted in his chair, studying John for a moment. “Aye. She told me she was there.”
“She told ye?” asked John, surprised.
Alex didn’t really want to share Sybella’s fears with John, but his friend was troubled over something. “She wanted to see where we held the MacLeod. She is fearful of me taking my leave to Lewis and thinks I leave her unprotected with MacGregor.”
“The MacLeod man is dead.”
“I tried to tell her the same, but ye know how lasses worry over naught. What is this about?”
“When I saw your wife from the wall, her behavior was odd, almost as if she didnae want to be spotted.”
“I’m sure she didnae. I would have throttled her myself had I seen her. ’Tis nay place for a woman.”
“I had one of my men follow her.”
“What? For what purpose?”
“I donna know, Alex. Something isnae quite right. And being that ye spend many an eve tupping the lass, mayhap ye are blinded by her actions.”
“What are ye saying? I think with my coc—”
John dropped a missive on the desk before Alex. “Read it.”
“What is this?” asked Alex, picking up the letter.
“Read it,” repeated John.
Alex read the words and his heart stopped.
Colin,
I found what you and Father seek. Please stop this madness before it is too late.
Ella
Eighteen
Sybella walked along the garden path, contemplating how she was going to free the stone from the great hall floor. She would need to find some kind of tool to loosen it. Perhaps she’d check the stables when everyone was asleep. She had another disturbing thought. Once she removed her clan’s stone, there would be a hole in the floor. She needed to find another rock to replace the one she would take.
She sat down on a bench and watched Rosalia and Ciaran play with Lachlann. Ciaran held his son up in the air and Lachlan smiled from ear to ear. When Rosalia reached out and touched her husband’s arm in a gentle gesture, his eyes held a tremendous amount of love for the woman standing by his side.
As Sybella watched the family together, she didn’t notice her own lips curving into a smile. From what Alexander said about his cousin, Rosalia had suffered hardship and discomfort before meeting Ciaran. But no one could tell from looking at the woman. Rosalia was proud, strong. And Alex’s cousin had certainly found her inner peace and her one true love. To be honest, Sybella was blissfully happy for Rosalia. And if Sybella was truthful with herself, perhaps she was even a bit jealous of the woman who stood before her. One thing was clearly evident: Rosalia was a survivor.
Every time Rosalia’s eyes met Ciaran’s, it was difficult not to notice the heartfelt love, understanding, and compassion that were exchanged between them. Sybella hoped that perhaps one day Alex would feel the same about her—well, as soon as she could clean up this mess her clan had created.
With that revelation, Sybella stood from the bench. “Pray excuse me. I think I will take a quick walk to the loch.”
Rosalia turned. “Do ye want us to come along with ye?”
“Nay, ye stay with your bonny lad. I will return soon.”
Sybella walked casually to the loch, her eyes searching the path along the way. There were no stones or rocks that would serve her purpose. She thought perhaps there might be more of a selection next to the water—at least, that was her hope.