Page 30 of Dark Embrace

His rage erupted. He pulled away. “There is no we, Brianna. Ye dinna blame me fer wantin’ revenge. I’ll tell ye who to blame. Blame the gods! Damn every single one o’ them!”

His anger sent her backward across the room. “You don’t mean that!”

“Oh, aye, I mean it,” he snarled at her. “My son was innocent, more innocent than anyone. I took vows to serve Innocence, yet my son was taken from me. It was written?” he roared. “Well, I have written the fate o’ the gods, but they’re cowards, because they willna come to earth to fight me.”

He was challenging the gods. No mortal could win and neither could a demon, nor the son of one. “Please take back your words,” she whispered, terrified for him. “Before they hear you—before they accept!”

“I hope they can hear me!” He paused at the fireplace, leaning against the stone, his back to her, trembling.

She wanted to comfort him; she didn’t dare. She wanted to beg him to take back his words; he would refuse again or start another tirade. She wanted to run from the rage, which was making her sick; she couldn’t leave him now. So she simply stood there, looking at the most beautiful man in the world—and the most tortured one.

A long moment passed as he fought his rage. Then he looked at her. “Ye’ll be stayin’ close to me now.”

Brie tensed, uncertain of his meaning and wary of his intentions.

He turned and strode to the door, where he paused. “Tomorrow we leave Awe.”

“Where are we going?” she asked nervously.

A cool smile formed. “We go to war.”

CHAPTER FIVE

BRIE STIFFENED, certain she had misheard him. “What?”

“We ride within the hour,” Aidan said. “We march on Inverness.”

Brie was stunned. Her mind raced. This was the year of his execution, and it was already late November. He was hanged for treason! She was filled with dread. “Are you riding with the MacDonalds?” she managed.

His gaze narrowed. “Ye ken our wars?”

Oh, God, Brie thought. “Aidan, treason is an offense punishable by hanging.”

“I dinna care much for the Earl o’ Argyll,” he said with a ruthless look. “Yes, I ride with MacDonald. I’ve promised him four thousand men. We fight for the Lordship o’ the Isles.”

“And which side is the Royal Lieutenant of the North on? He’s a Frasier, isn’t he?” Brie demanded, thinking about the text she’d read. “You ride against the Crown. They will hang you for treason!”

His eyes widened.

Brie turned away from him, shaken to the core of her being. She had gone back in time to a point frighteningly close to Aidan’s execution. She wasn’t meant to stop Ian’s murder, but she was surely meant to stop Aidan’s hanging…wasn’t she? For there was no point in redeeming a man slated for death.

Before she could think further, he had her face in his hand. He’d tilted her chin up so that their eyes locked. “Ye can tell me about my hanging later.” And he strode from her bedchamber.

Brie stared after him until he was gone from her sight. Then she held her head, her temples throbbing.

He was taking her with him. She was going to march on Inverness with four thousand rebel Highlanders?

She had to stop him from going to war or, failing that, prevent his imminent execution. He was in so much pain. He needed healing and his son needed peace. If he could let go of his grief, maybe he could heal and find his way back to his faith.

My god, Brie thought, her headache increasing. She was only one shy and modest techno geek, and not a very brave one—at least, not until recently. What were the gods—and Grandma—thinking? What was she thinking?

A maid appeared, hesitating on the threshold of her room, interrupting her rampaging thoughts. She held a pile of clothing in her arms. “My lady? His lordship wishes fer ye to clothe yerself. ’Tis cold by day and colder by night,” she added with a smile.

Brie started. Aidan was thoughtful enough to send her warmer clothes? The maid laid a pile on her bed, and Brie saw a long linen tunic, a black plaid, a belt and fur-lined boots. Then she saw the pince-nez on top of the plaid. She rushed to it. “A pair of medieval eyeglasses!”

“His lordship took them from his steward,” the maid offered.

A pair of thick lenses was connected by a simple wire, with no earpieces. Brie didn’t care. She put them on her nose and was thrilled when the maid’s features became clear, right down to the freckles on her nose. She might not have twenty-twenty vision, but she could see.