Chapter 24
Megan fought the urge to glance back at Ryder. She could feel his amused, mocking eyes on her, following her across the crowded room.
When did I begin to feel so differently about him?
There was no doubt in her mind that she was in danger now. Her feelings for Ryder had stopped being complicated and were now horribly, painfully simple.
I care about him. I want to be around him. I want him to care about me. I want to talk to him, kiss him, touch him. I want him to touch me.
It was a worrying revelation, and Megan swallowed thickly, trying to concentrate on the here and now.
She finally pushed her way out of the hot, crowded Feast Hall.
It was a relief to stumble out into the cool corridor behind the main room.
The corridor was empty, except for one servant scuttling toward the doorway she had just exited, clutching a slopping jug of wine in his hands.
Megan let out a long breath, trying to concentrate.
In her time at Keep MacCulloch, she’d learned that while it was easy to follow the main, central corridor, which ran through the middle of the Keep, with rooms like the Great Hall and the Feast Hall springing off that road, the rest of the rooms were set out like a maze.
Endless corridors crisscrossed the lower floors of the Keep, forming dead ends and circular halls which looped back to where they’d come from, rooms which opened on rooms which then opened on rooms in turn, and so on.
It was very easy to get lost. The northeast corridor was, in fact, a long, trailing hallway that wound its way through the Keep, with countless offshoots. Depending on how far Alaina and Hamish had gone down it, they might be challenging to find.
Megan set off at a trot in the direction that led away from the Feast Hall. She guessed that if the two youngsters had gone to find a quiet spot, they would go away from the noise and crowds, not toward it.
As she walked, she thought.
Alaina and Hamish shouldnae have to hide their feelings for each other.
Ryder is right to tell her that she shouldnae marry yet, but that’s nae to say that she’ll be obliged to marry for duty.
She can follow her heart when the time comes; perhaps if she kent that for certain, she’d feel a little bit safer.
I’ll make sure that she kens she’ll have the freedom to choose.
A sudden thought struck her, causing Megan to stop suddenly.
I willnae have any say in what freedom she has, or what future she has. I’m leavin’ this place, and I am nae returnin’. I likely willnae see them again.
A cold feeling settled over her, and Megan bit her lip hard. Yes, she was leaving. If not today, then tomorrow. If not tomorrow, then the day after. Her days at MacCulloch Keep as the Laird’s betrothed were over. She was never going to add Alaina and Sophie to her list of sisters.
It was a more depressing thought than she’d expected.
Enough, she scolded herself, suddenly harsh. There is nay time to stand here, all melancholy, and think about an uncertain future. The task here is simple. Find Alaina, and bring her back.
Sucking in a breath, Megan smoothed down her skirts with shaking hands and set off at a brisk trot.
She walked for about five minutes when, at last, she heard voices drifting toward her from further down the hallway. A disembodied male voice echoed through the quiet corridor.
“…nae disciplined enough. I should have kent.”
The voice was familiar, but she couldn’t recognize it. Megan quickened her pace and turned the corner to see the hall blocked by three people.
Alaina and Hamish stood, hand in hand, their backs pressed against the bare stone wall.
Logan stood facing them, blocking their way. He was watching Hamish with a close, narrow expression. When Megan approached, he barely bothered to glance up.
“Ah, Lady Megan,” he drawled. “I take it that ye have come to retrieve me errant niece?”
“Aye, I have,” Megan answered, glancing between the three faces. There was a closed-off look on Alaina’s face, a sort of wariness. Hamish simply looked frightened. “Alaina, love, ye ought nae to have wandered off as ye did.”
“I didnae mean to go so far,” Alaina responded, her gaze still focused on her uncle. “We only went around the corner for some privacy, but Uncle Logan found us and took us deeper in.”
Megan’s brow flickered. She glanced up at Logan, who still was not looking at her.
“I wanted a talk with me niece in private,” Logan responded. “We have already met, Lady Megan, so ye should ken how highly I prize me family. The lasses are the last thing left to me of me sister, so their future matters to me.”
“Their future matters to us all,” Megan responded. “Ryder worries obsessively about them. He loves…”
“Ryder loves himself. Ryder loves being in control,” Logan interrupted. “He’s a feckless fool who never matured beyond boyhood. He’s a poor choice as Laird MacCulloch, especially since the MacCullochs occupy much of the land which ought to belong to Clan MacAdair.”
Megan blinked, a sensation of unease uncurling in her gut. Logan was not the calm, well-spoken man she’d met earlier. Now that they were alone, there was a hardness in his voice, tinged with bitterness.
He’s angry, she realized. Angry at what, though? That Clan MacCulloch is larger than clan MacAdair? That Ryder holds more power than he does? I daenae understand.
“Well, I have nay head for politics,” Megan managed at last, catching Alaina’s eye and holding it. “Now isnae the time to discuss these things. Alaina, come back to the Feast Hall. Hamish, return to yer post. Logan, why daenae we all…”
“I’m glad that Ryder plans to marry,” Logan interrupted simply. “Once he’s busy with a new bride and all the heirs that will surely come his way, I can take over the care of me nieces. I’ll nae let Alaina sully herself with a guardsman, or anyone who is nae me choice. I will raise them properly.”
Alaina glanced over at Megan, and now there was fear in her eyes. Megan shifted to stand beside her, and behind the folds of her dress, she took Alaina’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
“They are bein’ raised properly,” Megan answered calmly. “I ken that ye have wanted to raise yer nieces for a while, Laird MacAdair, but Ryder loves his sisters and willnae be parted from them.”
“Aye, but once he is married…”
“A dozen wives and a hundred sons couldnae distract Ryder from his sisters,” Megan interrupted. “Nor could anythin’ convince him to give up his guardianship. I am sorry for yer disappointment, laird, but ye cannae raise the girls. We can arrange more visits, or even…”
“Uncle Logan wants me to marry a man of his choice,” Alaina whispered, her cold fingers tightening in Megan’s.
Megan blinked, missing a beat. She glanced around at the faces again—Alaina’s wary eyes, Hamish’s mask of fright, and Logan’s worryingly calm expression.
Somethin’ is wrong. I’ve missed somethin’.
“What?” Megan managed at last.
“He said as much,” Hamish spoke up for the first time, his voice shaking. “He made us come this way and said that Alaina was all but betrothed to Laird Campbell’s son.”
Logan’s gaze swiveled over to Hamish, and there was plain hatred there.
“Hold yer tongue, boy, or I’ll cut it out,” he snapped.
Megan stiffened. “Daenae speak to him that way. Logan, I can tell ye now that there’s nay plan to betroth Alaina to anyone. Nae Hamish, and certainly nae Laird Campbell’s son. Ye should speak to Ryder about this. Now, Alaina, Hamish, we really must get back to the Feast Hall. Come.”
She reached out to take Hamish’s hand, too, and made to lead them back the way they’d come.
Logan drew his sword with a metallic, drawn-out shlick. With his arm extended, the long blade easily spanned the entire width of the narrow hallway. The sharp edge, turned toward them, landed inches away from Megan’s chest.
Fear and understanding rushed through her at last.
We’re in more danger than I thought.
“Let us by, Laird MacAdair,” Megan murmured, meeting his eye and holding it.
“Aye, move aside!” Hamish interjected. Megan bit back a groan.
Keep yer mouth shut, son. Ye are not helpin’.
“I’m a guardsman,” Hamish continued, puffing out his chest. “I’m a soldier.”
“Nay, ye are nae,” Logan observed thoughtfully, eyeing him up and down. “Ye are nae even old enough to need to shave every day. Where is yer sword, lad? A guardsman doesnae walk around without it.”
Hamish’s face turned red and then white in quick succession. Megan didn’t need to glance down at his hip to know that his sword was not buckled there.
“Ye are nae a soldier, lad,” Logan continued with a heavy sigh. “Ye might have been one, one day. But me? I’m a warrior.” He lifted his own sword, the point screeching horribly as it left the stone well, and aimed it at Hamish.
The boy swallowed hard, visibly white with fear, but did not back away. He lifted his chin, the point of the sword inches away from his bare, exposed throat. When he swallowed, they could track the movement under his skin.
“Uncle, daenae,” Alaina whispered. The fear in her voice was painful to hear. “Please, daenae hurt him. He… he’s done nothin’ wrong. If we can go back to the Feast Hall, I swear I’ll tell Ryder that I’ll marry the man ye have picked out for me. I will.”
“Women are so often liars,” Logan sighed. “And ye are nay different, lass. It’s a pity. Ye are goin’ nowhere.”
Megan let out a long, ragged breath.
“Och,” she whispered. “It was ye. It was always ye.”
Logan’s gaze flickered, but he still kept his eyes on Hamish.
“Ye are a clever woman, Lady Megan,” he said at last. “I meant it when I said that ye were a good choice for Ryder. Ye would have made a fine Lady MacCulloch. Ye still could, really. But ye cannae save Alaina from her duty.”