Highland Moonlight (6 page)

unmistakable resemblance to Alexander. Thick hair the same deep

chestnut color waved across his forehead and lay against his collar.

“Mary, this is my brother, Duncan,” he introduced her. “And the lad

beside him is our younger brother, David.”

She studied the youngest brother’s features. His resemblance to his

father lay in his height and the width of his shoulders; the difference in the

curve of his brow and the fullness of his lips. The high structure of his

cheekbones gave his face a refined quality. His dark auburn hair, longer

than Alexander and Duncan’s, hung down his back in soft waves.

David’s pale gray eyes studied her face then his lips curved into a

smile filled with charm. “‘Tis an honor to meet you, Lady Mary.”

“I thank you for the use of the tartan.” She nodded to Duncan as she

wrapped the fabric more closely against her.

“Twas my pleasure to offer you a gift so well used. It was most

becoming as a kilt.”

His teasing had her smiling. “I thought ‘twould be safer traveling as a

lad, than a lass. I did not know I was being protected.” Her gaze trailed

down the table to the rest of the men. “‘Tis grateful I am for that as well,” she

said by way of an apology.

A wealth of smiles spread across the men’s faces.

“I would not be much of a husband, if I did not watch over you, Mary,”

Alexander said beside her.

She avoided looking at him for fear she might be tempted to soften

toward him. Her lingering feelings for him made her wary. “I have no

husband. Nor do I want one.”

She turned to her host. “T’was a fine meal, Lord Campbell; the best I

have had in some time. I find a full stomach has made me sleepy and the

journey here has tired me. Might I have your leave to retire?”

He nodded. “Aye, lass. Alexander has told me you have not been well.

You must rest.”

****

mounted the stairs and disappeared down the passageway in the direction

of her chamber. If only she would allow him some quarter in conversing

with her. Her constant verbal strikes at him were growing hard to tolerate.

“She’s a wee lass.” John’s quiet tone drew his attention back to the

table.

“Aye.”

For a moment, his father’s gaze met his. “And a beauty.”

“Aye.”

“We will see if a full stomach will lend a more civilized edge to our

conversation now.” He rose and motioned to Alexander and Collin to follow

him.

The three of them made their way down the wide passageway from

the great hall to an antechamber. Alexander remembered how as a child he

had dreaded being called into his father’s presence for any transgression.

Being the son of a clan chief had not been easy. He had been expected to

be more responsible, more in control, more aware of his duty to his clan

than any other.

As a boy, it had been difficult to live up to his father’s expectations. As a

man, the hard lessons had served him well. He knew his father felt pride in

him and his accomplishments. That alone made his present actions all the

more difficult to explain.

The chamber they entered was the one in which his father had meted

out punishment as a child. Now it was used to settle minor disputes among

the people of his clan. Would justice be served for him, or against him?

A large table surrounded by almost twenty chairs dominated the room.

His father ignored the massive piece of furniture and moved to stand before

the wide stone fireplace.

“I was told by Collin that the lass was resigned to the marriage.” John

turned to face them.

A brief wry smile touched Alexander’s lips. “Mary knew she had been

promised to a Campbell. ‘Twas I who told her ‘twas me.”

His father’s features settled into a fierce frown. “Did you not think you

should tell the lass yourself, Collin?”

“I saw no reason to, lest the match remain unconsecrated. Alexander

has been fighting with the Bruce, and in battle there is always a possibility

of injury or death.” Collin gave a dismissive shrug.

Alexander continued. “Her sister, Anne, was given a choice, Mary was

not. She was less than resigned, when first we met.”

“And when did this meeting come about, Alexander?” John asked.

“After the harvest, at her sister’s betrothal to Ian MacMillan.”

“She was agin you from the beginning?” John encouraged.

“Nay, to her credit, Mary was open to my suit. She said, ‘twas not our

fathers who had to live together as husband and wife. And ‘twas up to us to

decide if we could abide together. If we could not do so, ‘twould be up to us

to speak to the two of you, and see what could be done.”

“And you agreed to that?”

“Aye, I believed once we were allowed some time together, she would

agree to the match.” His attention shifted to the fire for a moment. “Anne

decided to accept MacMillan three days later, and Collin extended an

invitation for the men and me to stay for the feast to celebrate.”

“Aye,” Collin interrupted. “‘Twas then he sneaked upon her intent on

forcing himself upon her.”

If he defended himself it would damn Mary, and he had already

caused her enough pain.

“She will not even look upon you now, Alexander.”

He did not need Collin to point out the obvious. He saw how she

struggled not to weep every time he spoke to her. The way she had shifted

away from his touch at the evening meal had left a hollow ache beneath his

ribs.

“After the bairn is born, Bearach MacDonald may still agree to take her,

if she will agree to a handfast,” Collin suggested.

The suggestion inspired sharp feelings of rage and helplessness he

could not suppress. “She will never go to Bearach MacDonald,” he said, his

tone clipped. “She will never agree to leave the bairn. And I will never allow

my child to be fostered to a MacDonald.”

He stepped closer to Collin, his gaze fastening on the older man’s

face. “You sought to pit Bearach MacDonald and me against one another at

Lochlan, and I would not follow suit. The MacDonalds and Campbells are

sworn enemies, for good reason. If you mean to cause further trouble

between our clans, Collin, I warn you against it.”

Collin’s gaze shifted away from Alexander. “‘Twas because of your

actions Mary was willing to give up the bairn in the place of the contract, not

mine,” Collin reiterated. “What makes you believe she will change her mind

now?”

“Mary told me herself, she was called home only three times in twelve

years. She is bitter about being fostered from such an early age. I do not

believe she will do the same to her own bairn.”

“We but followed custom. We did nothing wrong.” Collin’s features

grew taut with anger.

“She does not feel the same, Collin. That will have a bearing on what

she will do.”

“Regardless of what she does, you will regret what you have done,

Alexander.” His blue eyes were cold. “The council will see to that.” He

stalked from the room having, for once, had the last word.

Alexander searched his father’s features for some clue to his feelings,

but he turned away to face the fire and gave him no opportunity.

The silence stretched between them. He grew tense as his father

shifted and folded his hands behind him.

“There’s nothing that brings harm to a woman any more than having

her will taken from her in such a way, Alexander. I have seen the grief it

caused the women of our clan who have been taken during raids. I have

seen the damage wrought before the Bruce, when Prima Notcha was

allowed by William Long Stockings, and the English lords took our women

on their wedding nights. There are some who never recover from such a

thing.”

He drew a deep breath and turned more fully to face Alexander. “A

lass’s body is the only thing that is truly hers to give. It tears her dignity and

pride asunder when that choice is taken from her. It breaks something else

inside her, we men can not understand.”

His father believed him capable of rape. Alexander’s mouth went dry

and it became difficult for him to draw a full breath “I did not force Mary,

Father, she came to me willingly. Collin is hoping she will testify agin me

that I did, but she will not do so.”

John turned to him a frown drawing his thick brows together as he

searched his son’s face. “You had better hope that is so, my son.”

Silence fell between them.

“You have seen how Mary is with her father.”

John’s brows rose. “She would have defied him?”

“Mayhap.”

“But you were not certes.”

“Nay.” He raked his fingers through his hair and drew a deep breath. “I

was not certes of anything with her. But I was of Collin. I have no proof, but

what I heard myself. I know Collin meant to break the betrothal contract by

giving her to MacDonald. ‘Twas he who was to bed her that night. He was

there in the hall outside her chamber when I entered it.”

“So you took her so she would have no choice but to accept you.” It

was a statement not a question.

“With the betrothal broken, there would have been nothing to keep

Collin and the MacDonalds from attacking us. I could not put my men at risk,

nor could I stand by and see Mary given to Bearach to be used and

mistreated.”

“Your own actions seem to have accomplished no better, Alexander,”

John said, his amber gaze intent.

The truth of those words renewed his guilt. He drew a deep breath. He

had been gentle. He had given her all the pleasure there had been time for,

though she had been denied a woman’s fulfillment from their union. If only

he had had more time to woo her. If only there had been time to explain his

actions. If only Bearach MacDonald had not been waiting to take his place.

All the if’s ran together in his mind in a useless stream.

“Mayhap the bairn will help heal the wounds,” John said after a lengthy

pause, his tone lacking conviction.

Alexander did not hold out much hope for that either.

“You will visit with your brothers and me for a short time after the

council,” John ordered. “I wish to know my new daughter.”

Alexander studied his father’s stern features. “My men are eager to be

home with their families.”

“Aye, I know.” John shrugged his shoulders, the gesture fraught with

tension. “After the council, send those on who wish to go, and my men and I

will give you an escort home, when the time comes.”

Alexander nodded.

It would give his family time to know his bride. If Mary would not accept

him, mayhap she would accept his family, for the bairn’s sake.

Mary paused above the great hall next to John Campbell and looked

below at the men below. Her attention focused on Alexander. The muscles

of his shoulders, back, and arms stood out like cords as he parried

Duncan’s maneuver with the heavy broadsword. Both men’s chests and

shoulders gleamed with sweat, their features set in fierce scowls of

concentration as they circled one another.

Duncan thrust forward and Alexander’s blade blocked the movement.

As the weapons edges met, they screeched as though in pain. Turning his

brother’s sword aside, Alexander used his greater size to shove Duncan

back. With a sudden burst of brutal strength, Alexander seesawed the blade

in a lethal combination Duncan was hard pressed to defend. Sparks flew,

and the high-pitched ring of metal on metal was nearly deafening. The

younger man stumbled under the onslaught and nearly lost his footing.

Alexander disengaged, offering his opponent time to recover. At Duncan’s

signal, they started again.

She recognized the able skill Alexander demonstrated with the sword.

His movements had a grace only experience could teach. Her eyes lingered

on the strong width of his shoulders and back then dropped to the muscular

tautness of his stomach. The masculine beauty of his body inspired a

breathless rush of feelings both exciting and disturbing to her. How could

she still find him pleasing after he had harmed her so? How could her body

betray her with such feelings? She dragged her gaze away.

“What is it you see, Mary?” John asked from beside her as he leaned

on the railing of the gallery.

The question threw her into brief confusion. Heat stormed her cheeks

and for a moment, she feared her thoughts had been obvious to the Laird of

Lorne Castle. A quick glance in his direction eased her discomfort. His

attention remained directed at the men below.

She cleared her throat. “David drops the point of his sword before the

strike, telling his opponent what is to come. It may leave him open to a

thrust above his weapon that will block the blade and keep him from

defending himself.”

“Aye. And Duncan?”