Chapter 10 #4
He looked at her as if she were a traitor. “How can you sound so philosophical, so complacent, about something so important? Don’t you care about your home, about your people?”
His voice teemed with passion and conviction. But what did a mercenary care about justice or politics?
“Of course I do,” she said evenly. “I love everything about our Highland way of life. But I’m also trying to be practical. It is not a matter of black or white. We must seek new solutions with King James or we can all end up like the MacGregors.”
“What do you know about the MacGregors?”
Meg was surprised by the vehemence in his tone.
He’d reacted as if she’d slurred him personally.
“Enough to know that they are doomed. The king has stripped them of their land and even of their name. I know that they are hunted men forced to turn outlaw to survive.” He was trying not to show it, but Meg could see that every muscle in his body rejected what she was trying to say.
Her voice lowered to soften the blow of her words.
“I know enough to understand that if we don’t find a way to get along with King James, our own clans will suffer the same fate as the MacGregors.
Aren’t your brother’s lands already forfeit? ”
His grip on his reins tightened, turning his knuckles white. Clearly he wanted to disagree, but he couldn’t. “Technically, perhaps. But King James will never hold Dunvegan.”
“I hope you are right, for the Mackinnons’ fate is tied to the fate of the other clans on Skye. If Dunvegan falls, Dunakin would also be in jeopardy. I don’t want Skye to be the next Lewis, with the king attempting to colonize our land with Lowlanders.”
“It won’t be,” he said flatly.
She’d barely heard him, but from his tone Meg realized there was something important that he’d left unsaid.
Abruptly, Alex turned away from her. He was shutting her out, trying to put the wall between them again.
Whenever she felt they were starting to get close, he pulled back.
But not this time. She wouldn’t let him.
“For a man so obviously passionate about his home, why have you been fighting someone else’s wars? ”
He looked at her and shook his head. “You don’t ever give up.” A smile hovered at the edges of his mouth.
She shrugged. “Where did you say you’d been fighting?”
His jaw fell in a hard, uncompromising line. By his reaction, Meg knew she was getting close.
“I didn’t,” he said.
“Well, then, where were you?”
“Here and there,” he answered vaguely, clearly growing impatient with her interrogation.
From the set of his shoulders, she could tell that she’d pushed him as far as he would go. So she switched tactics. “How long have you been away from home?”
“Almost three years.”
Meg couldn’t imagine leaving home for so long. “But why?” she asked.
“I had to get away for a while.”
“After your imprisonment?”
“Shortly thereafter.” He sounded disgusted with himself for even talking about this.
“After I was released, I returned to Dunvegan for a while to stand in for my brother, who was being held by Argyll at the bequest of the king. The king was angry about the feuding between the clans. Rory returned, and I left soon after he hand-fasted Isabel.”
Were the rumors of his falling-out with his brother true? “But why did you leave?”
He shrugged. “It was time for me to get out on my own for a while. There were things I needed to do. I suppose I was restless.”
Meg was beginning to understand. A man like Alex would not be content to live under another man’s shadow.
A leader in his own right, Alex needed to make his own way.
But she felt there was more that he wasn’t telling her.
Something that was calamitous enough to drive him away from his home and family. And to keep him from her.
“And have you found what you were looking for?” she asked quietly.
He gave her a long, meaningful look. “No,” he said. “Not yet.”
Her heart fell to the floor. It was a warning. A not too subtle way of telling her to keep her distance, that there was no future for them. But from the dull ache in her chest, Meg suspected that it was a warning that may have come too late.
They entered the shadow of the trees, and the temperature dropped considerably.
The heavy wool fabric of her gown, which had been too warm a few minutes ago, now felt quite comfortable.
Although there were still a few hours of daylight, it was eerily dark; the soft orange rays of the sun had not the strength to penetrate the thick canopy of trees.
Meg sighed, disheartened by Alex’s comments. She sank deeper into her saddle, tired and anxious to return to her rooms, both to rest and to consider what she’d learned. One thing was for certain, Alex was not simply the mercenary soldier he wanted her to think he was.
And with the way her heart skipped every time she looked at him, discovering the truth had become imperative.
Alex didn’t like being put on the spot, being scrutinized so carefully. He could sense her disappointment, but she wanted answers he just could not give her. “What about you, Meg? Have you found what you were looking for?’
She collected herself and said matter-of-factly, “Perhaps, but I have to be sure. The future of our clan is at stake; there is no room for mistakes.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. “Your father seems to expect much from you.”
“He trusts me.” She sighed. “I always make the right decisions.”
It was not said as a boast but was simply stated as fact. And it bothered him. “It seems like an inordinate amount of pressure to put on a young woman. From what I have heard, you practically run the clan lands already.”
“There is no one else that my father trusts; most of the chieftains are old men. Those that aren’t have not demonstrated any propensity to lead.” She hesitated for a moment. “You know of my brother?”
He nodded.
“Of course you do,” she said bitterly. “It is a small island, and people like to gossip. My brother will be chief, and I will be there to support him. As will my husband.”
“What about for you, Meg? Have you found the right man for you?”
“It’s all the same,” she said tersely. “The right man for Dunakin is the right man for me.”
He could sense her increasing anxiety, as if his questions dug deeper than she would like. But Alex realized that he was close to the truth, to the core of what drove Meg. “Are you so sure of that? What of your own happiness?”
He could see the color climb in her cheeks. Her eyes sparked with anger. “You don’t understand.”
He could see her resistance in the stiffness of her back and the tightness around her mouth. The facade of control had slipped. “Don’t understand what, Meg?” he prodded gently.
She gazed at him with wide, glassy eyes. “I can’t let them down,” she said fervently. “They are all counting on me.”
Alex hadn’t meant to upset her. But he could see from the intensity of her response how important it was to her to do what was right. What was expected. And for some reason, that had become a struggle. He suspected he knew why.
A sound drew his attention to the bank of trees on their right.
His senses flared. He didn’t like the feel of this at all. Something wasn’t right. He held up his hand for them to stop.
“What’s wrong?” Meg asked.
“I heard something.” He paused, stone still, all of his senses honed to his surroundings. He moved his horse in front of hers, putting himself in the line of fire, and with a gesture of his hand ordered her guardsmen to surround her.
It was almost too still. The light had faded to near dark. They’d moved into the densest part of the forest, where the path narrowed to accommodate the enormous birch trees. It was the perfect place for an—
Suddenly, he detected the unmistakable whiz of arrows in flight.
Attack!