Highlander Unmasked (15 page)

“You might say that.”

She didn’t like the tone of his voice. “Do you know him well, then?” They couldn’t be friends; the MacLeods and the MacDonalds had generations of enmity between them.

For an instant, the thin veneer of charm cracked beneath the divulgence of a snide smile. “You might say we lived closely together at one time. But you can ask him all about it, he’s heading this way. With the devil nipping at his heels, I’d say by that black look on his face.”

Meg looked over her shoulder to see a furious-looking Alex bearing down on them quickly from across the room. Intuitively, as she’d never inspired such an emotion before, Meg recognized his jealousy. Misplaced though it might be.

Then suddenly, when almost upon them, he froze. His eyes locked on Dougal, and his eyes flashed with such intense hatred that she felt scorched in its wake. Alex looked as if he could kill him. But it was his expression only moments later, utterly devoid of emotion, that truly scared her. He looked cold and determined. And so remote that she knew he’d moved beyond her reach. Turning on his heel, without sparing her another glance, Alex strode away in the opposite direction. Away from her. Almost as if he no longer wanted anything to do with her.

Something was terribly wrong.

Her only thought was to go to him, to help, to see what could have caused such desolation. And such hatred.

Meg forgot all about Dougal and pushed her way through the crowd, heading toward Alex. But before she could reach him, he’d disappeared. She turned around helplessly, searching the sea of inquiring faces gawking at her. But he was gone.

She had to find him. For Meg knew that if she did not, he might just slip beyond her reach forever.

Dougal MacDonald hid his outrage beneath a lazy smile as he watched his intended bride flee the hall, scampering after Alex MacLeod. She’d seemed oblivious to the whispers that followed or to the fact that she’d just abandoned him in the middle of the room. Abandoned him for his nemesis, which made it even worse.

His spies at court had of course informed him of MacLeod’s presence, but Dougal hadn’t been aware of his interest in Meg Mackinnon. Nor of hers in him. It was a complication, but not one that worried him greatly. Complications were easily taken care of.

He smiled, this time with pleasure. He’d beaten Alex MacLeod before, he’d do it again. And this time, he would show no mercy.

Even if Dougal didn’t want her for himself, a Mackinnon with a MacLeod was an alliance that could never be allowed to proceed. The battle for dominance of Skye between the MacLeods and the MacDonalds had endured for centuries. Placing the Mackinnon’s lands in either hand would lead to an imbalance, one that Dougal intended to secure for himself.

Originally, he hadn’t intended to marry the chit himself. He admitted to being pleasantly surprised tonight when he’d first caught sight of her. His little pigeon was much improved from the last time he’d seen her. Dougal was almost looking forward to the bedding. His expression hardened. But if she dared embarrass him like this again when they were married, she would feel the brunt of his anger. He would not be shamed by any woman.

Wooing Meg Mackinnon was proving more of a challenge than he’d anticipated. She was unusually intelligent for a woman and would not be easily duped. Dougal admired her spirit. He would put it to good use in the bedchamber, but he would never allow it to get in the way of his plans.

One way or another, Meg Mackinnon would be his wife.

For the first time since he’d arrived at court, Alex could see his mission laid out clearly in his mind. And refocusing on the task at hand, and not on a pair of enchanting green eyes, was already yielding results. He could scarcely believe his good fortune.

By the time Alex had forged his way out of the crowded hall, Lord Chancellor Seton was nowhere to be found. Cursing the wasted opportunity, and the spark of jealousy that had led to it, Alex looked around, only to see someone just as important leaving the hall and starting down the corridor: Secretary Balmerino—one of the original twelve Fife Adventurers from the first attempt to colonize the Isle of Lewis a few years back. Given the secretary’s previous involvement, Alex knew that his sudden appearance at court was significant.

Alex made the quick decision not to look for the lord chancellor, but to follow Secretary Balmerino, hoping that one might lead to the other.

Living as an outlaw for the past few years, Alex had depended upon stealth to evade capture by the king’s men. He was used to moving soundlessly, to hiding under brush, to blending in with the landscape. But blending into the background at court was an altogether different proposition. In circumstances such as these, his size definitely worked against him. There weren’t too many places he could hide. It wasn’t difficult to be inconspicuous near the hall with all the people milling about, but as the secretary approached the corridor leading to the presence room, the crowds had thinned considerably, and Alex had to drop back farther and farther, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible without losing sight of him.

He also had to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Once, when he’d been forced to slip into a room to avoid the sound of approaching voices, he thought he’d lost the secretary. But a few seconds later, a muffled cough pointed him in the right direction.

Not taking any more chances, Alex drew closer, silently willing the secretary not to turn around. He would be hard-pressed to convince Secretary Balmerino that he wasn’t following him. As a precaution, he’d studied the layout of the palace; but unlike in the wild, in the palace escape routes where he could slip away unnoticed were limited. Being caught spying on these men would be tantamount to treason. Alex had been imprisoned once, courtesy of Dougal MacDonald, and he was not eager to repeat the experience. But he’d known the risks when he volunteered for the job.

When Balmerino continued past the presence room to a dark, deserted corridor at the rear of the palace, Alex breathed a sigh of relief. The alcoves that lined the hallway would provide some measure of protection. About halfway down the hall, the secretary entered a small antechamber, and Alex’s suspicions were rewarded. The secretary had led him directly to Lord Chancellor Seton and his cronies and, finally, to the conversation that Alex most wanted to hear.

The one that he hoped would send him on his way to the Isle of Lewis.

The king’s dream of colonizing Lewis, and later presumably the rest of the Western Isles, was founded on the false belief of hidden riches in the Isles that lay merely awaiting his plunder. After a series of laws aimed to divest Highlanders of their land, the king had “leased” the Isle of Lewis—land that rightly belonged to the MacLeods of Lewis—to a group of Lowlanders, mostly from Fife, who were willing to take up the challenge.

King James had hoped to establish a settlement of Lowlanders at Stornoway, the largest village on the Isle of Lewis, and eventually to build a trading port. But Alex’s kin Tormod and Neil MacLeod, with the secret help of some of the Island chiefs, had successfully burned and pillaged the interlopers back to Fife.

The “Gentlemen Adventurers from Fife,” as they called themselves—
making it sound like some damn expedition rather than a conquest of their countrymen,
Alex thought—had returned with their tails between their legs to a furious and humiliated king. A king who Alex knew would do everything in his power to ensure that a second attempt was not the same resounding defeat as the first.

Alex, on the other hand, would do everything to ensure otherwise. He’d be damned if he’d just sit back and watch the king steal his cousins’ land and fill it with bloody Lowlanders. But he knew that his reasons for helping his kin went even deeper. His cousins’ deaths on the battlefield at the hands of Dougal MacDonald four years ago still weighed on him. He now had the opportunity to make amends.

Tucked into one of the small alcoves that lined the corridor, Alex was doing his best to conceal his large frame in a small area—with limited success. Should someone quit the room unexpectedly, he risked almost certain discovery.

But it was a risk he had to take.

From his position to the side of the door, he could not see directly into the room, but he could hear enough to make out the gist of their conversation. Already his muscles were complaining from the effects of being confined—he’d been forced to suffer through the seemingly endless idle chitchat before they’d finally broached the subject he’d been waiting for.

Despite the discomfort, it was well worth the wait.

He recognized the commanding voice of Lord Chancellor Seton. “Rest assured you will have your ships, Secretary. The king has pledged to do all he can to ensure the success of your endeavor. Are your men ready?”

“At the king’s command, my lord chancellor. Even now my men are in Fife awaiting word, readying the colonists and stockpiling provisions. By the time the king’s ships arrive, we’ll be ready.”

“Excellent. How many colonists will you bring this time?” the lord chancellor asked.

“Perhaps four hundred persons, including fighting men, craftsmen, builders, and women.”

Alex exhaled, relieved to hear at last the direct confirmation of a second attempt by the Fife Adventurers to take Lewis. Now if only he could learn
when
….

“As long—”

Alex heard something. The faint sound of footsteps drew his attention down the corridor, preventing him from hearing the rest of the lord chancellor’s words. Someone was coming.

The scent of danger sent the familiar rush of blood surging through his veins. He drew out his dirk, and the long, sharp blade gleamed in the soft candlelight. Stealthily, he unfolded himself from the alcove and started walking down the dimly lit corridor toward the approaching footsteps and away from the room, hoping to put as much distance between him and the open door as possible. Just as the intruder was about to turn the corner, Alex slipped into the shadows of another alcove, every nerve set on edge, waiting. He half expected to see that Dougal had followed him.

Once the reflexive urge to kill Dougal MacDonald had dissipated, Alex realized that Dougal’s presence at court was not likely to be a coincidence. Although the MacDonalds claimed to be a part of the alliance of chiefs that had banded together to protect the Isle of Lewis from invasion, Alex didn’t trust them. Dougal MacDonald would bear close watching. If the MacDonalds planned to deceive them, Alex intended to know about it.

The footsteps were light, too light for a man.

He cursed, immediately recognizing the tiny form of the person who turned the corner. Meg. He didn’t know whether to be furious at her untimely interruption or thankful that it was only her. He’d never met a woman so eager to bear the brunt of his anger. She didn’t have the good sense to leave him alone. Slipping the dirk back into his belt, he stepped out of the darkness into her path.

She jumped back, startled. Then, realizing who it was, she put her hands on her hips and scowled. “What are you doing hiding in the shadows like that? You scared me half out of my wits.”

“Which are apparently in limited supply,” he quipped. She gasped with outrage, which he ignored as he grabbed her arm to pull her around the corner and out of immediate sight. Seeing her again triggered all the emotions he’d vowed to put behind him as he’d stormed out of the hall. He wanted to press her up against the wall and punish her for distracting him. For frustrating him. For making every damn inch of his body hard and throbbing with need. “Or do you make it a practice to follow men down dark corridors?” he asked. There was an edge to his voice that he knew was a result of seeing her with his enemy. The image of Dougal MacDonald touching her still burned too vividly in his mind. As did the urge to wipe it away.

“Not usually,” she said crisply, lifting her adorable chin. “But I did come to find you. You seemed disturbed back in the hall—”

Alex tensed. She was venturing into dangerous territory.

She paused, heeding the subtle warning. She bit at her lip anxiously, measuring her words. “I was worried. I could tell something was wrong.” Her hand settled on his forearm. Despite the thick velvet of his doublet, a surge of warmth spread through his body from her touch. It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d held her in his arms, and the memory proved a powerful one.

But Alex didn’t want her comfort. He wanted to put her out of his mind.

He vowed to remain detached, but her small upturned face looked so damn lovely. Those beseeching green eyes, wide with concern. Her thin arched brows drawn together in a delightful wrinkle above her tiny tilted nose. Even in the soft light, he could see the sensual line of her delicate lips. A wave of possessiveness hurled over him.
Mine.
But she wasn’t, nor ever could be. He fought the primitive urge to cover her mouth with his, to claim her, and to eviscerate all vestiges of Dougal MacDonald from her memory.

Hell.
He dropped her arm and stepped purposefully away from her. “You don’t take advice very well,” he said darkly. “I warned you to have care.”

“Advice?” She quirked a brow sarcastically. “Don’t you mean orders? And no, I don’t. Do you?”

Alex refused to bite. “You had better get used to it if you intend to marry.”

She pressed her lips closed and said nothing, but Alex caught the flash of defiance in her eyes.

His eyes narrowed. “Or is that one of the criteria for a husband? A man who will let you do as you please.”

“Of course not,” she retorted.

Alex’s gaze slid over her indignant face, but he suspected he’d hit upon at least a partial truth. Meg had carved out an unusual position for herself, and from all accounts she relished her responsibilities. Responsibilities he doubted she was eager to give up.

He studied her upturned face for a long moment. “If you think Jamie Campbell will be led around by his nose, you do not know him very well.”

“You have no right to talk to me like this. My marriage is no concern of yours.”

Alex noticed that she hadn’t argued with his premise—she intended to marry Campbell. It riled him more than he wanted to acknowledge. “You’re right,” he said curtly. “You shouldn’t be here. I could have been anyone.” His mind harkened back to the conversation he’d overheard in the tavern. “These darkened corridors are no place for a woman alone. It’s dangerous.”
I’m dangerous.
“If you cried out, no one would come to your rescue.”