Page 109 of Enchantment of a Highlander

Something prickled at the base of Alec’s skull. “I dinna appreciate the accusation,” he growled.

Much as he wanted to, he did not glance around the room to the guard who’d taken his leave. Nor did he look down at Duncan. Doubtless the boy would need reassurance, but to do so would give them both away. He’d been silent at Alec’s side thus far. He could not have chosen a better time to tame his tongue.

MacDougall’s shoulders eased lower and his posture became more relaxed. “Ach, well, when ye get to be my age, ye dinna trust easy, aye?”

Alec grunted his agreement, but the knot in his gut didn’t loosen. Something still did not sit comfortably with him.

Saraid cried out in the bed, her thrashing aggravated and restless. “I need ye,” she whined.

MacDougall turned from Alec and approached the bed. She shook her head against a matted pile of curls beneath her. “Laird MacLean.”

Alec bit back a sigh and grudgingly strode toward the bed. Just a few more minutes and he could leave. Then he could send someone to get Celia, in the cover of the night where they would be unseen.

“Ye’ll find the witch, won’t ye?” She grasped his hand and squeezed it hard. Her fingers were moist and icy cold. “And make her pay for poisoning me. She gave me belladonna instead of the fertility potion I’d asked for. I know it.”

He stared down at Saraid’s wide eyes. Though her cheeks were flushed, her pupils were not dilated. Her pulse did not race against his hand.

She had clearly not been poisoned. “Of course,” he murmured, and glanced to his right to find Duncan in the crowd of men.

His unease in his gut tightened and shot up against his heart. Duncan was not there.

He released Saraid’s hand and turned to look behind him, his pulse firing with panic.

Still no Duncan.

A hand curled over Alec’s shoulder and MacDougall’s voice sounded in his ear, silken with victory. “Missing someone?”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Celia lay curled on her side, her body stiff from holding still for so long in the cool room. She’d lit a candle for at least some warmth and kept it safely perched in its holder by her abdomen. Its heat was scant, but better than the press of cold.

Ruadh had woken and become restless within minutes of falling asleep on her knee earlier. He’d paced in front of the door until she set him free.

Once more, she was completely alone.

Alone, but safe.

She should be grateful.

Her demise had come too close.

Something slammed into the door, hard enough to rattle the hinges. Every nerve in her body leapt and for a split second she remained frozen with uncertainty.

“Celia,” Duncan said from the other side of the door. “Ye have to leave now.”

She jumped from the bed, careful not to upset the candle. Blood flowed hot in her body. Limbs once chilled now tingled with sweat.

She fumbled with the lock until it finally slipped free and the door swung open.

Duncan all but fell into the cottage and grabbed her arm. “They know ye’re here. Alec and I were in Saraid’s room. She’s claiming ye poisoned her and now they are coming for ye.”

Celia’s mind raced while she slipped the lock back into place. “What are you talking about, Duncan? How did they find me?”

He raced around the room, gathering her small collection of herbs and ointments, stuffing them into the bag draped over his arm. “Laird MacDougall’s daughter. She said she captured ye and ye poisoned her.” He stopped what he was doing and ran toward her. His arms came around her in a tight embrace. “Thank God ye’re safe. I’d feared…”

Celia shoved him back. “Duncan, leave. If they’re coming here and know you helped me, they’ll kill you.”

He shook his head and widened his stance in that stubborn Highlander way. Like Alec. “I’m no going to leave ye defenseless.”