the love of a kindhearted woman who has stayed with me through my present hard times."
"If I live through this, I'm going to marry a lass who is like that - if she'll still have me," Connor said.
He stared into the dwindling bonfire thinking about Ilysa. Looking back now, he recalled the many ways, big and small, that Ilysa acted to protect the clan - and him. Since she left, he had received still more proof of her loyalty. Now he knew that she had saved his life when she locked him in the dungeon. And it was only because she had cautioned him about Sorely that Torquil was here today to help beat back the MacLeod attack. Connor was ashamed of his doubts, but trusting in a woman's love and loyalty came hard to him.
Tearlag had told him the right lass would choose him, but he had not been wise enough to know it. He had sacrificed their happiness to make a marriage alliance, which now seemed like a slender reed on which to rest his clan's future. Belatedly, he realized that Ilysa was the best wife he could choose not only for himself, but for his clan. No other woman would be as devoted to the clan's welfare or as wise and steadfast a helpmate to him. And only with her at his side could he become the chieftain his clan needed him to be.
He still could think of no good explanation for why Ilysa would meet with their clan's worst enemy, that devil Alastair MacLeod. But if God gave him another chance, he would put his faith in the woman who had always had faith in him.
His thoughts were interrupted by Lachlan, who appeared out of the darkness, his hair bright in the firelight.
"Ye fought well today," Connor told him, and he refrained from mentioning that he also noticed that Lachlan disappeared afterward.
"I brought ye a message." Lachlan slanted a look at Torquil. "It's private."
Connor was bone-weary, and his shoulders ached from swinging his claymore all day, but he hauled himself to his feet. The air was chilly when he stepped away from the fire.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Ilysa wants ye to meet her," Lachlan said. "She says it's important."
Connor's weariness fell away. Ilysa wanted to see him.
"You're to come alone to the abandoned church on Saint Columba's Island after midnight," Lachlan said. "If she's not there by an hour before dawn, you're to leave because she's not coming."
Saint Columba, a small island in the Snizort River, was the site of the church of the Bishops of the Isles for five hundred years before it was abandoned near the time the Lord of the Isles submitted to the Scottish Crown. Its burial ground was crowded with the graves of ancient chieftains and warriors, including some who had fought in the Crusades.
"That's a strange place and time to meet," Connor said. "Why can't I meet her at your sister's?"
"I had the impression Ilysa meant to leave the cottage as soon as I was out the door," Lachlan said.
"How do I know this message is from Ilysa and not a trap you're setting at Hugh's behest?" Connor asked. "Ye expect me to leave my men in the midst of battle and go alone to this isolated place in the black of night on trust?"
If Connor died, the clan would be forced to choose a chieftain between the only other males with chieftain's blood, Moira's young son and Hugh. The chance they would put the clan in Hugh's hands was too great for Connor to risk his life lightly.
"Ilysa said to give ye this."
Connor stared at the stone that Lachlan dropped into his palm. Even this far from the fire, it picked up the light. He recognized it at once as the glittering stone he had left for his dancing faery. For Ilysa.
The question was no longer whether he trusted Lachlan with his life and his clan's future, but whether he trusted them to Ilysa. Connor had not expected the test of his faith in her to come quite so soon or to be so stark.
Chapter 44
Ilysa shivered against the cold as Ewan rowed his little boat from the inlet to the mouth of the river. It would be too difficult for him to row upstream against the current, and the distance was not too far to walk. She directed him to land the boat on the MacLeod side of the river.