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  An array of emotions crossed his face. Furrows formed on his brow and pulled his lips into a thin scowl. A moment later, his troubled gaze rested on hers. Damnation, but the man looked lost and, for just a moment, afraid.

  Her heart thumped against her breast. Never had a man stirred such emotions in her before. In one encounter MacDonell lured fear, anger and compassion from the depths of her buried soul.

  Ciara moistened her lips. "My only prayer is that she will not make it a dying request."

  Mirrored in his eyes, she thought she saw a similar hope. Unable to bear his gaze a moment longer, Ciara turned away.

  "If Valerie does place me in such an unfavorable position, I will be hard pressed to consent." She lifted her gaze to the awakening sky and drew in a breath. "It will be just as difficult to deny. A last plea cannot be refused."

  "I know." His hushed whisper tickled her spine.

  Ciara closed her eyes and prayed to God that Valerie would soon see reason.

  "Valerie knows this as well." The echo of his sigh revealed the turmoil harbored in his soul.

  Still, Ciara refused to look at him.

  "She wants a willing agreement between us, but will make it a dying wish if she must."

  A sad chuckle escaped her lips moments before she turned to face him. The torment etched upon his brow tugged at her heart.

  Ciara averted her gaze. "Then we are doomed."

  Silence lingered between them until, unable to stand the solace a moment longer, Ciara looked his way.

  MacDonell shoved lean fingers through his hair and sighed. "There is one way to avoid this."

  Breath held, Ciara waited for him to continue. "How?" she prompted when he seemed determined to keep his thoughts to himself.

  His dark gaze settled on hers. "'Tis simple, woman." The width of his chest expanded with his breath. "You must leave. By removing yourself from this keep, Valerie cannot place a dying wish upon your shoulders."

  Ciara blinked. Leave? Abandon her friend in her time of need? "Never. I refuse to take the coward's way out."

  Anger clouded his eyes. "Now you call me a coward?" He took a menacing step toward her.

  She shrugged and moved away. The cool stones of the wall halted her progression. MacDonell was scaring the life out of her, but she would perish before showing her fear.

  "'Tis how I see it. You want me to turn tail and run." He stopped before her, mere inches separating their bodies. Ciara shivered and told herself it was from the cold in the walls. "I have never turned my back on a challenge before. I will not start now."

  His jaw tensed and, briefly, Ciara thought she may have pushed him too far.

  "I am not a coward!" The biting tone of his voice pressed her further against the wall.

  Above the thunder of her heart, Ciara heard herself apologize. 'Twas clearly the words he needed to hear, for the tension eased from his face.

  MacDonell stepped away and stared at her. Ciara felt the condemnation of his gaze clear to her toes.

  "If you stay, and Valerie makes this a dying wish, I will not be responsible for my actions." He turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Ciara slumped against the wall and slid to the floor. Tears seeped through her lashes and trickled down her cheeks. Years had passed since she last felt this amount of fear in the presence of a man.

  A few deep breaths later, Ciara managed to regain control over her emotions. She knew what had to be done. There was no way on earth she could remain here and place herself at the mercy of MacDonell.

  Despite her friend's wishes, Ciara knew in the depths of her heart that the moment Valerie breathed her last, the murderous MacDonell would choke the life out of her.

  * * *

  "You cannot leave!"

  The forlorn tone of Valerie's voice sliced through Ciara's heart. It could not be helped. Her decision was made.

  "I am sorry, my friend, truly I am. A message from Eneas arrived this morn." She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue and avoided Valerie's gaze. "He has entered into a betrothal agreement with laird MacLean. I shall be wed before a fortnight passes."

  "That vile, decrepit old man?"

  Still Ciara could not face her friend. The sooner this matter was settled, the better for all involved. She nodded and kept her gaze on the floor.

  Valerie sighed. "I always knew Eneas resented you, but I never knew how much until now."

  Ciara bit her lower lip in an effort to regain her lost courage. "He is my brother and, as laird, has the right to betroth me to whomever he wishes. Eneas has longed for an alliance with that clan since assuming the role of laird."

  The thunderous roar of silence echoed through the room. Finally Valerie spoke, her voice frail and weak. "Ciara, look at me."

  She closed her eyes and willed her emotions to remain hidden. The story was not a complete lie. Eneas did wish to wed her to MacLean. Alas, she never cared for her brother's wishes, nor was she pleased with them now. Yet, this situation with Valerie left her no choice. With a swallow for courage, she raised her gaze.

  Tears glistened in the depths of Valerie's eyes. The sight twisted Ciara's heart. "Do you truly think yourself better with MacLean than my Alastair?"

  Somehow, Ciara found her voice and the strength to lie. "Aye."

  Tears dampened Valerie's cheeks. With grace, she extended a hand to Ciara. "Show me the missive."

  Ciara's heart stilled in her chest. "Why?"

  "Just show it to me."

  The determination in Valerie's eyes overcame the fragility of her voice. Ciara longed to run deep into the woods and hide.

  "I cannot. 'Tis packed away, and my trunk is already at the pier."

  Condemnation lined Valerie's face as she lowered her hand to the bed. "You never have been able to lie to me, my friend. I wish to know why you do so now?"

  In her chest, Ciara felt her heart being ripped in two. "I do not lie. Eneas does wish to wed me to MacLean."

  Valerie slowly nodded. "Aye, that I can believe. Your brother is consumed by greed. The ill health of MacLean, along with the power the man would bring to your clan, no doubt prompted Eneas to agree to an alliance."

  A momentary spurt of relief touched Ciara's heart.

  "However," Valerie continued, "If I know you -- and I do -- you told Eneas to stuff it up his kilt."

  Guilt gnawed in the pit of Ciara's belly. That is precisely what she had done. She lowered her gaze to the floor.

  A sad chuckle escaped Valerie's lips. "Your silence condemns you, my friend."

  Desperation filled Ciara's soul. She had to leave this mountain, and she had to do so now.

  "'Tis true I cannot wed MacLean." She raised her gaze and the smile on Valerie's lips tore at her soul. "However, I cannot wed MacDonell, either." The smile slowly left Valerie's lips. "I am sorry to disappoint you, but I have no choice. I pray you understand my motives."

  Ciara turned on her heel and left the room. In the loneliness of the hall, Valerie's voice calling for her to return echoed off the stones. Ciara paused and leaned against the wall for support.

  She had to leave. There was no other choice. With false courage, Ciara continued along the hall and down the winding stairs. Still, Valerie's voice called for her.

  At the bottom of the stairs, MacDonell and a few of his men gathered, puzzled looks upon their faces at the sobs emerging from above. MacDonell blocked her path.

  "What have you done to upset my wife?"

  "Stand away from me, MacDonell," Ciara said through her teeth. She could not take much more of her friend's haunting pleas that seemed to grow closer. "I have done as you requested. Although it broke my friend's heart, I am leaving."

  His gaze flashed from her to a spot over her shoulder. The color drained from his face. He shoved her aside and ran up the stairs. Ciara fell against the stones and dared a glance to where he ran.

  Valerie clung to the rail for support and struggled down the steps. Tears stung Ciara's eyes. O
nly through determination did she keep them from falling.

  MacDonell placed an arm around Valerie's frail shoulders. She shrugged him off, her gaze fixed on Ciara. A harsh breath filled her lungs.

  "Hear me now, all of you," she panted and shoved off her husband's arms once more. "'Tis my dying wish that Ciara Mackintosh -- "

  "Nay," Ciara whispered on a sob, begging her friend not to finish her sentence.

  "Ciara must wed Alastair and give him heirs." She sank toward the stone steps, her gaze still fixed on Ciara. "This, my last wish, must be obeyed."

  MacDonell swept his wife into his arms and fixed a deadly glare on Ciara. No words were needed. The anger and hatred in his eyes bespoke his opinion of her. And he had no right. 'Twas his own request that prompted her decision to leave. He turned and carried his wife up the stairs.

  Stunned and terrified, Ciara could do naught but stare at the empty space where her friend had condemned her. By stating her wish before witnesses, it could not be denied.

  Her heart ached and thumped so hard against her ribs, she thought it would burst.

  "I ken from the moment I saw ye that naught but grief would follow."

  Ciara turned to the men who stared at her with a mixture of hatred and confusion. Torquil had spoken the words she could not deny.

  His lip curled in disgust. "If the laird chooses tae kill ye, as I would if I were him, I will dispose of yer corpse myself." He turned on his heel and left the keep.

  Ciara sank to the cold stone steps and tried to still the fear that stirred in her belly. Bile rose to her throat as the impact of the situation sank into her brain.

  She lowered her head to her trembling hands and fought the terror that tried to circle her heart.

  How could Valerie do this to her? Ciara felt as if she had just been sentenced to death.

  Chapter Six

  Contained rage coursed through Alastair's veins. He paced before the hearth in Valerie's room. Unable to sit still, he found it even more difficult to leave. With each step his gaze strayed to the bed.

  The aged healer leaned over Valerie. With care, he removed leeches that all prayed would draw the illness from Valerie's body.

  Alastair's gaze moved to her face and his heart twisted in his chest. The pallor of death clung to her skin. It hollowed her cheeks and pushed the breath from her lungs.

  And it was all Ciara's fault.

  His anger churned at the thought of the witch and how she harmed his wife. Aye, he wanted Ciara gone. Yet the woman should have had the sense to leave quietly. Surely she knew that bidding Valerie farewell would only add to his wife's anxiety and weakness.

  "Alastair."

  He paused in his pacing and fixed his gaze on the healer. Beneath a shield of whiskers, the man frowned, lowered his eyes and shook his head.

  "Death is near."

  Grief rose in his throat. He knew this moment would come, yet in his heart he held to the belief that it would not be this soon.

  "Make peace with your wife," the healer said as he gathered his belongings. "She will be with God by the time dawn colors the sky."

  Disbelief tumbled through his veins. So quickly life passed. In one breath, it robbed the world of the grace of a beautiful woman.

  The healer left the room. How long Alastair stood and stared at his wife, he had no idea. What seemed hours later, he managed to propel his lead-filled feet across the floor.

  By her bed, he fell to his knees. In the depths of his calloused hands, he held her fragile one. Tears stung his eyes. He closed them against the pain in his heart and said a prayer for her soul.

  "Husband?"

  The call was so weak that for a moment he thought he imagined it. He lifted his head and found his wife looking at him through sleepy eyes. Beneath his palm, her hand moved.

  "You weep."

  The tender brush of her fingers closed his eyes. Through the choking mass lodged in his throat, he managed to whisper, "Aye. I do not wish to lose you."

  Silently, he caressed her hand and willed his courage back to life. Now was not the time to show weakness. Valerie needed his strength, not his shame.

  "Please forget me never, husband."

  Her weak plea lured the lump higher in his throat. He pressed her hand against his heart and stared into her eyes. "You will live in here forever."

  A troubled breath touched her lungs. "I am not afraid."

  "Of course you are." Alastair blinked away the pain in his eyes and looked at her. Lord, she was beautiful. "We all fear the unknown."

  Her eyes fluttered closed and silence embraced the room. His heart froze in his chest.

  "Valerie?"

  A tired smile touched her lips. "I am still here, love." Another breath filled her lungs. "And I tell you true. I have no fear."

  That was good, because he had enough fear in his body for both of them. He kissed her palm and sighed. "You are a wonderful woman, Valerie."

  "I was never a proper match for you." Her gentle whisper opened her eyes. "Ciara is the one you need."

  Again, anger churned in his belly. "Pray, do not mention her name. 'Tis because of her you are --"

  "Nay!" Her voice sounded stronger than he would have thought possible. "I prayed God would let me live long enough for her to arrive, so I could make my wishes known."

  Beneath his fingers he felt the rapid beat of her pulse, and the labor of her breath echoed through his brain. "Calm yourself."

  Valerie shook her head. "Not until you tell me you will not blame her for this."

  How could he make such an oath? 'Twas clear that after the confrontation in their room, Valerie spent what energy she had left to stop the witch from leaving.

  "Promise me you will not blame Ciara for my misfortune."

  God, she was killing him. "I promise."

  The tension eased from her body and a contented sigh filled the air. "Good. Now, promise to honor the request I made in the hall."

  Alastair bit his lip and shook his head. "I cannot."

  Her weary eyes settled on him. Mirrored in those depths he saw her pain. It tortured his soul and threatened to rip his heart from his chest.

  "'Tis my last wish of you, Alastair."

  The harsh burn of tears threatened his eyes. "I would beg you to reconsider this wish."

  Valerie shook her head. "Trust me to know what is best for you. I give you my vow that you will not regret my decision."

  She was weakening fast. He saw it plain upon her ashen face and the shallowness of her breath. There was nothing left to do.

  "Much as it grieves me, you leave me no choice but to honor your last request." The words lodged in his throat and left a bitter taste.

  A smile curled her lips. "Thank you. 'Tis one of the reasons why I love you so."

  Alastair closed his eyes and bowed his head. He did not deserve her love. She would despise him and withdraw her affection if she knew that he was behind Ciara's attempt at departure.

  A soft knock pulled him from his sorrow. He glanced toward the door. Ciara stood there and, from the look of her, she was as grief-stricken as he.

  "Who is it?"

  Valerie's hushed query turned his gaze to her. He stroked her brow tenderly. "Ciara is here."

  "Call her forth."

  He'd much rather call her a witch in the village square and toss the first stone. Instead, he leaned over, kissed Valerie's clammy brow and rose to his feet. He turned to Ciara and reigned in his urge to choke her.

  "Her time is short. Dare not upset her again."

  The witch merely nodded and moved with care across the floor. In an effort to hide her fear, Ciara twined her fingers tightly before her. Resentment curled through his chest. If the woman felt fear now, just wait until this ordeal was over. Alastair would teach her the meaning of the word.

  He stepped aside and allowed Ciara to take his place beside his wife. Alastair remained nearby, hand on his dirk. One wrong word and he would take care of Ciara himself.

  "I am so sorr
y I hurt you before, Val," Ciara whispered, her voice choked with unshed tears. "I never dreamed you would try to stop me."

  Valerie lifted a hand. Where she found the strength, God only knew. Ciara held it in hers and pressed it against her cheek.

  "There is naught to forgive, Ciara. All is well now between you and Alastair."

  Ciara's gaze met his. Despite his will to keep his anger close to the surface, the look of utter grief in the woman's eyes dispelled a bit of his rage.

  "Do you know how hard your wish will be for us to carry out?" Ciara whispered.

  Alastair tightened his hold on his dirk.

  Valerie smiled. "Aye, yet I ask you the same as I did my beloved. Trust me."

  The witch was trying very hard not to weep. Was it a ploy, or were the torturous emotions real?

  "I do trust you." Ciara stroked Valerie's hand before pressing it to her lips. "You are my sister."

  Valerie's body tensed and a ragged breath filled her lungs. "Alastair?"

  In the flash of a thought, he moved Ciara aside and eased himself onto the edge of the bed beside his wife. He took her hand in his and paid little attention to Ciara, now kneeling upon the floor.

  "I am here."

  Another shallow breath filled her lungs. Although her eyes were open, she did not seem to see. "Hold my hand, love. Please."

  Anguish twisted in his heart as keenly as a blade. He glanced briefly at Ciara. Her chin trembled and tears hovered in her eyes.

  Without a thought, Alastair positioned himself on the mattress beside his wife and drew her into his arms. "I will hold you close and keep you safe," he whispered and kissed her brow. "Stay with me."

  A broken breath drifted in the air between them. Her thin fingers wound in the fabric of his shirt. "I smell bread."

  Alastair frowned and looked down at her. "What?"

  The fingers twined in his shirt eased their hold. Her eyes drifted closed as her final breath expelled from her lungs.