Chapter 14
Meg and Elizabeth had just settled to finish some embroidery in the small salon that used to serve Queen Anne’s ladies-in-waiting when her mother entered with the most beautiful woman Meg had ever seen.
“Margaret, I have someone I’d like you to meet.” Meg tried not to gape, but the woman was truly exquisite. Long red gold hair, pale skin, and … Meg blinked disbelievingly … dark violet eyes. “Isabel MacLeod this is my daughter, Margaret.”
Alex’s sister-in-law, Meg thought with amazement. They exchanged pleasantries, and Meg learned that Isabel and her husband, Rory, had arrived only yesterday. Meg was surprised she hadn’t noticed her at the evening meal last night. Isabel MacLeod was hard to miss.
Isabel had seated herself next to Meg at the small wooden bench conveniently situated under a large window with a splendid view of the summer gardens. After a few moments, she said, “I’ve been eager to meet you.”
Meg arched her brow. “You have?”
Isabel nodded, studying Meg with unabashed interest. “I’ve heard your name linked with Alex’s more than once since I arrived, and I wondered at the woman who had finally captured my recalcitrant brother-in-law’s heart.
I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen proof of it last night.
” When she saw Meg’s confusion, she explained, “I was walking with Alex past the dining room when he saw you.” Still grinning, she said, “I only wish his sister Margaret could be here to enjoy it with me, but her first child is due any day.”
Meg’s cheeks flamed under Isabel’s close scrutiny. Her heart beat a little faster.
“You’re wrong,” Meg said quickly. “Alex and I are friends, nothing more.” No matter how desperately she wished it differently.
But if anything, Alex had seemed even more preoccupied and distant since that night two days past when she’d overheard that horrible conversation with Bianca.
The conversation that still weighed on her despite her vow to ignore it.
If only she knew what it was that Alex was really doing at court.
More and more, she thought it had to do with the MacGregors.
She recalled his anger when she’d spoken of their plight with the king.
Had he turned outlaw in an attempt to find some justice for the broken men?
Was he at court not for a nefarious purpose, as she’d first assumed, but for a heroic one?
Isabel caught Meg’s troubled glance. “Did I say something wrong?”
Meg shook her head. “No, of course not.” She frowned, remembering something. “I’m just surprised to hear you speak so fondly of Alex. I’d heard rumors—” Meg blushed, realizing she’d spoken bluntly again.
Isabel returned her frown, appearing to weigh her words carefully. “Whatever is between Alex and my husband does not change how I feel about Alex. I will always care for him as a brother. I want him to be happy. And I sense he has found happiness with you.”
If only it were true. She didn’t want Isabel to see the pain her words had inadvertently caused. Self-consciously, Meg turned her face to the window, attempting to dry the sudden dampness brimming around her eyes with the warm sunlight.
“You love him.”
Isabel MacLeod was far too perceptive. Meg smiled wanly. “I’m afraid it does not matter. I must marry.”
If Isabel was shocked by Meg’s odd statement, her tone did not betray her. “Of course you must.”
Meg turned back to face Isabel, her face impassive. “No, I mean I must marry now.”
“I don’t understand. Are you already betrothed?”
“No. But there are unusual circumstances. I have promised my father that I will have chosen a husband by the time I leave court.”
Isabel’s delicate brows knit together across her forehead. “Is Alex aware of this?”
Meg nodded. “And he’s made it very clear that he is not interested in marriage.”
Isabel bit her lip, looking a bit uncomfortable, as if weighing how much to say. “I very much doubt it is that he is not interested …”
“But something is holding him back,” Meg finished for her.
Isabel nodded.
“Does it have something to do with the MacGregors?”
Isabel looked at her sharply. “Did he tell you that?”
“Not exactly.”
Isabel frowned, appearing to debate with herself about whether to say more. Finally, she seemed to come to some sort of decision. With a quick glance at Elizabeth and Rosalind across the room, she leaned in toward Meg. “What do you know of Alex’s past?”
It took Meg a moment to comprehend what Isabel meant.
“Do you mean about him being taken prisoner by the MacDonalds?” At Isabel’s nod of encouragement, Meg continued.
“He told me that he was taken prisoner after the MacLeods’ defeat at the Corrie of the Foray.
Although he did not say so, I got the impression that he took the loss personally. ”
“You’re right. Did he tell you that he was the acting chief of the MacLeods at the time?”
Meg shook her head no, but understanding dawned.
Isabel continued, “The raid happened while Rory was away. He’d left Alex in charge for the first time. Alex took the loss to the MacDonalds as a personal failure—especially the deaths of his cousins.”
Meg gasped. “I didn’t realize.…”
“About twenty MacLeod clansmen lost their lives that day. Two close cousins of his from Lewis were brutally murdered right before his eyes.”
Meg thought of the haunted look that she’d seen sweep his handsome features, his burning hatred of Dougal MacDonald, and the inner drive that she’d sensed but had not understood.
“Poor Alex,” she said, her heart breaking for him.
“I knew there was something in his past that weighed on him.” The death of his cousins under his first command was what drove him so relentlessly.
“It explains so much,” she said, shaking her head.
“But it still does not explain his refusal to marry.”
“Doesn’t it?” Isabel encouraged.
Perhaps it did, Meg realized. If Alex felt there was still something he had to do. “Do you know why Alex is really at court, Isabel? Does it have to do with what you’ve just told me?”
Something distinctly resembling guilt flashed across Isabel’s stunning face.
“I’ve said too much already,” she murmured dismissively.
“But I do know that the loss of that battle weighs heavily on him. It changed him. In many ways, Alex is living in the past, trying to make up for his perceived failure that day.” Isabel looked as though she wanted to say something more, but she held her tongue.
“But what can I do?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to discover the rest from Alex. He deserves to find happiness. If there’s any chance that he can find it with you—”
“You two look as thick as thieves at a fair,” Elizabeth said, approaching them from across the room.
A quick glance over to Rosalind forced a smile to Meg’s lips.
“I see your conversation is as enthralling as ever, Elizabeth,” Meg teased, eyeing her mother napping peacefully in her chair.
Elizabeth laughed. “I think we may have missed the truly scintillating conversation. But I’ll wager I can guess what—or should I say whom—you were conversing about.” Elizabeth turned to Isabel and said, “Your brother by marriage has made quite an impression on my friend.”
“I think it’s mutual,” Isabel said, returning her smile.
“I think you’re right,” Elizabeth agreed.
“If you two are finished speaking about me as if I’m not here, I believe I’m ready for that game of chess you promised me, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth ignored her. “Isabel, did Meg tell you about the game of chess that she—”
“That’s enough for now, Elizabeth.” Meg stood up and playfully pulled her smirking friend across the room.
Meg knew that she was only delaying the inevitable.
She’d hear all about her prodigious loss to Alex yet again.
But the teasing didn’t bother her. Alex was a worthy foe—or ally, for that matter.
She’d always thought of him as invincible.
But in a strange way, learning about his past loss on the battlefield made him seem more human.
The failure in no way diminished the man he had become, but rather explained it.
The loss had framed his life. But had it overtaken it?
Talking with Isabel had only strengthened Meg’s belief that whatever Alex was doing at court, it was for good. She didn’t care who he was. Mercenary. Outlaw. It didn’t matter. He was still the man for her. She knew the truth in her heart.
But Isabel had also made her realize something else. She had to do something soon or she would lose him.
But what could she possibly do to show him how much she trusted him?
Though Rory and Isabel had arrived only yesterday, to Alex it seemed intolerably longer.
He had been anxious to advise his brother of what he’d learned but had been forced to wait until they could ride well away from the palace to preserve the damn pretext of a falling-out.
Now that he’d confided in his brother, Alex was relieved to have unburdened himself, but at the same time he was uneasy, realizing that the time for him to depart court was drawing near.
Rory rode next to him in prolonged silence, no doubt considering the ramifications of the MacDonalds’ treachery and King James’s insatiable thirst for Highland bloodshed.
His brother’s reaction had been much the same as Alex’s: shock followed quickly by anger and resolve.
The grim set of Rory’s chin and the tightness around his mouth told Alex just how determined his brother was to battle this last betrayal.
When they figured out exactly how best to do so, Alex would be on his way to the Isle of Lewis.