Chapter 8
Meg was trying to stay focused on the man before her.
If she hadn’t already decided upon Jamie, perhaps she would be more attentive.
By all accounts, Dougal MacDonald would be a good match—the MacDonalds controlled a considerable portion of Skye—but something about the man rubbed her the wrong way.
He was physically imposing, nearly as large as Alex, and attractive enough, she supposed.
On the surface, he seemed quite charming.
But beneath the flattery and warm smiles, Meg detected a ruthless glint in his hard blue eyes.
But her wariness where Dougal was concerned wasn’t the only reason she was distracted.
Her thoughts kept sliding back to Alex. Where was he?
She’d wanted him to leave her alone, to stop confusing her …
or had she? His expression when she’d left him with Bianca had been priceless.
It was no less than he deserved for his high-handedness; he had no call to order her about.
But Meg had immediately regretted her actions when she saw how stunning they looked together on the dance floor.
Alex had made no secret of his unwillingness to partner with Bianca, but Meg had felt a twinge of something suspiciously like jealousy all the same.
He had no right to dictate to her, no right to kiss her. A kiss that had lingered on her lips long after he was done. She knew she should stop thinking about it; it was a momentary lapse, that was all.
Realizing her gaze was wandering again, she forced her eyes back on Dougal.
He was looking at her expectantly, and she realized he’d asked her something.
When she asked him to repeat it, he leaned closer, much closer than was necessary.
She tried not to show her discomfort. After all, she was hardly an expert in courtly flirtations.
“I was sorry to hear about your father’s illness,” he repeated. “I heard there was some trouble.” At her obviously confused look, he continued, “With the issue of his successor undecided and all.”
Her eyes narrowed, surprised that the grumbling of a few of her father’s men would have reached the MacDonalds. She smiled thinly. “I’m afraid you are misinformed. My brother is my father’s tanaiste.”
He smiled indulgently. “But his, uh … limitations … make the situation uncertain, do they not?”
Meg fought to control her temper. “They do not.”
Perhaps realizing that he’d overstepped his bounds, he at once turned contrite. “Of course. Of course. I could see for myself on my stay at Dunakin last month that the rumors of Ian being a half-wit were greatly exaggerated.”
Meg stiffened, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“And I suppose if you were married, if you had a strong husband … maybe even one whose lands closely border your own?”
Pretending that she didn’t realize he was talking about himself, she forced a smile. She’d thought his visit to Dunakin soon after her father’s recovery odd, but now she realized it had been with a purpose to woo her for marriage.
When she didn’t respond, he said, “Walk with me outside. I yearn to see whether you are as beautiful by moonlight as you are by candlelight.”
His finger trailed down her arm. Meg could not repress an involuntary shiver of distaste at his touch, but she literally flinched when his finger grazed her breast. Had he done that on purpose?
She looked at him sharply, but his gaze revealed nothing.
Now Meg was becoming very uncomfortable.
“Perhaps later,” she said, keeping her voice light.
“I’ve just returned from taking a turn outside. ”
“With Alex MacLeod?” he snapped.
“Yes,” she answered, surprised that he’d been watching her so closely. “Do you know him?”
“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.