CHAPTER 33
When Sybil learned that Rory had returned while she was down in the kitchens speaking with the cook, she went looking for him. Patience was not one of her virtues, and it was past time he forgave her. She was determined to find a way to mend things between them. She had to try. Despite how much he had hurt her, she missed him terribly.
As she started past the door to an empty chamber, she heard someone moving inside and peered in. Her husband and his sister were leaning over a table staring at the pages of an open book. Both wore intense, puzzled expressions.
The pair looked up as she entered the room. When Rory’s gaze locked on hers, she knew he was also remembering the last time they saw each other—both the violence of their passion and how he’d left her with the flush of pleasure still on her skin and tears in her eyes. From his worried frown, she thought perhaps she had broken through his barriers that day after all.
Or perhaps he just feared she would start weeping again. He need not worry about that. She did falter for a moment, but then she drew herself up and put on a pleasant smile.
“You two look perplexed by that book,” she said. “Perhaps I can help?”
“Nay,” Rory said at the same time Catriona said, “Aye.”
Sybil chose the response she wanted and joined them at the table. The book looked like a ledger, with items written in neat columns. A second book was under it.
“Can ye read?” Catriona asked.
Sybil nodded. “I take it this ledger is important?”
“Don’t—” Rory said.
“Our brother Brian brought these two books—ledgers, as ye call them—to me for safekeeping,” Catriona said. “I’m thinking they must hold a clue as to why he was angry with Hector and rode off to Edinburgh.”
“Let me take a look,” Sybil said, and squeezed between them.
This was not how she envisioned winning Rory back, but she knew to take advantage of an opportunity when she saw one. As she ran her finger down the page, she forgot about her problems with Rory and became absorbed in the puzzle.
“’Tis written in Latin, probably by a scribe,” she said. “This column on the left appears to be a list of names.”
They were colorful Highlander names that loosely translated into Black-haired Donald, One-eyed Collum, and Handsome Ullium with two wives.
“This column on the right contains an assortment of items, mostly farm animals and grain.” She read them off as she ran her finger down the column. “One pig. Two geese. Thirty pounds of oats. One chicken.”
“It’s the ledger of tenants’ payments to the laird,” Rory said, rubbing his jaw. “I wonder what Brian found amiss. He wouldn’t become upset because a tenant held back a chicken.”
Sybil flipped the book closed to read what was written on the front cover. “It says Eilean Donan.”
“The ledger is supposed to stay at the castle,” Rory said. “Brian wouldn’t have taken it without good reason.”
“Brian could read Latin?” Sybil asked.
“Aye,” Catriona said. “He was good at numbers as well. He should have been a scholar.”
“Let me study these for a while,” Sybil said. “Perhaps I can figure out what is in them that upset your brother.”
She pulled up a stool and opened the first page.
***
Rory watched Sybil pore over the page, feeling irritated that he needed her for this. Though he did not trust her, he could at least be certain she was not in league with Hector. When she bit her lip as she worked, his mind drifted to all the times he had kissed those lips.
But as he watched her, those tantalizing memories were replaced by the image of her the last time he saw her, leaning against the wall after their frenzied passion. It was not her tears that had haunted his days and nights since—he suspected she could turn them on and off at will—but the sadness that had shone in her eyes and weighed down her bright spirit. Now she behaved as if nothing had happened. Which was an act?
She looked up and seemed surprised to find him and Catriona still in the room.
“This could take some time,” she said, making a shooing motion with her hand as she returned her attention to the page. “You two should go eat or…something.”
After an hour, Rory returned, but she did not even look up. Catriona came back with him after supper and brought a platter of food, which Sybil absently munched on as she slowly flipped through the pages. She was working her way through the second ledger now.
The candles were burning low the third time he and Catriona returned. He was going to insist Sybil stop for the night when she looked up with a glint of victory in her eyes, like a warrior who knows he has won the battle.
“Ach, your uncle Hector is a wicked man,” she said. “He robbed your brother blind.”
Rory folded his arms and waited for Sybil to explain.
“Both these ledgers have lists of animals, bags of grain, and coin for each quarter of the year,” Sybil said, then tapped the ledger on her right with her forefinger. “But the quarterly lists in this second ledger have no men’s names, and the lists are short with large quantities—twenty pigs, twelve goats, and such. I had to add it all up to be certain, but the entries in the second ledger are sums of the entries in the first. So, one pig each from five tenants in the first ledger will be listed as five pigs in the second.”
“You’re good with figures as well as reading,” Catriona said.
“My brothers’ tutors thought so,” Sybil said as if this were nothing and opened the second ledger. “Now I’m getting to the interesting part. This second ledger records what was done with all these pigs and fowl and bags of grain.”
Rory saw how confident she was and knew she was onto something, but he still had no notion what it was.
“Some of the stores were kept at Eilean Donan to be consumed at the castle,” she said.
“What else could be done with geese and oats?” Catriona asked.
“All the surplus was taken to Edinburgh and sold,” Sybil said. “The coin from the sales there plus any coin originally collected from the tenants was then taken to your uncle’s estate in Gairloch.”
Rory sat up straight. “To Gairloch? Are ye certain?”
“Aye, ’tis clear as day once I figured out the pattern,” she said. “Your uncle had an arrangement with an Edinburgh merchant who sold the goods on his behalf. Judging by how the money and goods appear to flow smoothly back and forth, my guess is that this was a well-established arrangement.”
“What do ye mean by that?”
She lifted one shoulder in a feminine shrug. “This arrangement has likely gone on for years.”
“What proof do ye have that the coin was taken to my uncle’s own estate in Gairloch?”
This was the important part. There was nothing wrong in selling the surplus unless Hector took the money for himself.
“Let me find the clerk’s notation,” Sybil said, flipping through the pages again. “Ah, here it is. I…, clerk and loyal servant to Sir Hector of Gairloch, this twenty-seventh day of February in the year of our Lord…”
By the saints, how did she have the patience to wade through such tedious detail for hours? Even if Rory could read, he could not have kept his eyes open.
“…did place the above recorded amount,” she continued, “into the hands of Big Duncan of the Axe to deliver to Gairloch.”
“That proves it,” Rory said, stabbing the open ledger with his forefinger. “Duncan is Hector’s most trusted man, and he took the money from the chieftain’s castle at Eilean Donan to Hector’s lands in Gairloch.”
Hector had stolen from the chieftain, which was stealing from the clan.
“I’m going to kill Hector!” Rory clenched his fists. “When I’m done with him there won’t be enough left of him to feed to the crows.”
“Killing him may not be necessary,” Sybil said, “when you can use this information to keep him in his place.”
Rory wanted to kill him, but killing him might do more harm than good.
“News of his thievery will badly damage Hector’s reputation in the clan,” he said. “I’ll announce it in the hall in the morning, and word will spread fast.”
“I believe this will also help sway the regent and council to throw the crown’s support behind you,” Sybil said. “After all, they are all chieftains. This evidence of Hector’s theft from his chieftain will weigh heavily against him.”
“I can’t leave MacKenzie lands to make my case to the council.”
“Let Lord Lovat show them the evidence,” Sybil said. “He’ll know how best to present this to your advantage. As your mother’s brother, he’s also in a good position to persuade them that Hector’s lies about your birth are false. He’s sure to argue passionately for the crown to recognize you as chieftain.”
Rory had to admit, at least to himself, that she was right.
“What would we do without you?” Catriona kissed Sybil’s cheek and gave Rory a pointed look. “I’m leaving tomorrow to help Alex’s wife with the children, so I’ll bid ye goodbye now. Ye should get some rest. Ye must be exhausted.”
The excitement that had animated Sybil’s face faded like a cloud passing over the sun. She squeezed Catriona’s hand and then left them without a word.
“Would it hurt ye to show your wife a wee bit of gratitude?” Catriona put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “Ye wanted to know what Brian was desperate to tell you and why he rode to Edinburgh. Sybil not only found the answers ye wanted, but she also gave ye a powerful weapon to use against Hector.”
“That served her own interests. She wants to keep her position as a chieftain’s wife,” he said, though his sister’s criticism did tug at his conscience.
Catriona raised her hands as if beseeching the heavens. “How can the big brother I’ve always looked up to be such a fool?”
“You’ve no notion just what a fool she made of me,” he said. “I’ll not let her do it again.”
“Sybil told me everything,” Catriona said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “If ye ask me, her brother’s trick brought ye the best luck you’ll ever have.”
“She used and deceived me,” Rory said. “I’ll never be able to trust her.”
“Of course ye can,” Catriona said. “Can’t ye see that she loves ye?”
Was it possible, despite her deceit, that her feelings for him were true? He did not know what to think anymore.
He slept in the stables with the damned horses. In the morning, after announcing the theft in the hall and telling his men to be ready to ride to Lovat’s, he decided to take the advice Alex had given him days ago. He went to talk with Sybil.
She was still in her night shift and brushing her hair when he entered their bedchamber. Her toes peeked out from under her white shift, making her look young and innocent, which she was not, but the sight somehow made him feel protective.
“When ye told me ye were married before, ye said there was more ye could tell me when I was ready to listen,” he said. “I’m ready to listen now.”
She was quiet for so long he did not know if she would speak.
“I was wed when I was thirteen,” she said.
Ach, that was young to wed. Rory recalled his sister at thirteen. Though Sybil would have been far more sophisticated at that age than Catriona, it did not sit well with him.
“I was a young girl, happily spoiled by my parents and the servants,” she said. “I thought life was a joy and I was special. My husband taught me that was a lie.”
“Ye said he died after only a week.” Rory folded his arms. How much could she have suffered in a week with a feeble old man on death’s door? “I suppose ye had this elderly husband wrapped around your wee finger.”
“He was a strong and handsome young man.” Sybil fixed him with an unwavering gaze. “He was also an arrogant, unfeeling, selfish brute—both in and out of bed.”
Did Sybil lie to him now? His gut told him no. Her tale had the ring of truth.
“I can understand when a man must inflict harm on an enemy to protect himself or others,” she said. “But to take pleasure in being cruel and to do it simply because he can, well…”
Jesu. Rory rubbed his hands through his hair. “He hurt you?”
“After being sorely used and beaten by turns for a week,” she said, “I told him that if he ever touched me again, I would kill him.”
Where were the men of her family? In the Highlands, the lass’s family would come with their swords drawn. And if the bride was a member of the chieftain’s family, mistreating her could easily lead to a clan war.
“He laughed at my threat. Why wouldn’t he? I was just a weak, young girl.” Sybil turned to face him, and she had that determined look in her eyes. “But I would have killed him.”
Even at thirteen, she had expected to deal with a threat to her life on her own. His heart ached for that brave young lass.
“His horse threw him and broke his neck that very day,” she said. “That’s how God spared me from committing the sin of murder.”
Sybil was a survivor, and she did what she had to do.
Rory wished she had trusted him instead of deceiving him. He wished even more that she loved him. But if she was only trying to protect herself, he had judged harshly.
He started to reach for her hand when someone pounded on the door.
“Laird,” the man called through the door, “the men are ready to ride.”
“I must go now,” he told her. “But we’ll speak more when I return.”
Rory had much to think about, and the ride to Lovat’s and back would give him the time he needed.