Chapter 6 #2
"Nay, I was only ten, and small for my age besides.
My mother kept me well hidden and once we heard the news that my father had been arrested, she secreted me away to her clan in a different part of the Highlands.
She told me we were to never speak of her marriage to my father.
We were no longer MacGregors. We were Grants and we didn't know who my father was.
To pretend such lies... I felt she'd abandoned and betrayed him.
But when he was executed..." Darack shook his head as the grief and devastation once again stabbed through him.
"Ma cried for days... weeks. That was when I knew she'd loved Da.
She had not betrayed him; she'd been protecting me.
She wanted no one to ken I was the heir to the MacGregor chief, for if they did, I would've been killed, too.
King James was so bent on wiping out every speck of MacGregor blood, he might have had me executed, or at least imprisoned.
Even to this day. Who knows? He certainly wouldn't want a new MacGregor chief rising up to cause trouble. "
"Would you... cause trouble? Would you want revenge for the wrongs done your clan?"
He placed the fire poker aside. "Nay. The clan is flung to the far corners, some transported to the colonies.
To gather the ones left in Scotland together in one force would be suicidal.
King James still rules and if a MacGregor clan suddenly appeared on the scene, he'd send every last soldier he has to hunt us down.
'Twould be a blood bath." Darack shook his head, fully realizing—as he did near every day—that even though reuniting his clan would be his dream come true, it was impossible if they wished to live.
"One day, mayhap we will be pardoned and allowed to claim our name and our heritage again, but for now we must pretend to be a part of other clans and try to survive as best we can. "
"Do you see your clansmen... the ones who don't live with Clan Grant, I mean?" she asked in the quietness.
"Aye. I travel through to check on them sometimes, and they give me a place to sleep for a night. If they need something, I try to help them get it."
"You are their chief," she whispered with calm certainty.
He stared down at the shadowed ashes beneath the coals, feeling unworthy of the title... though he wished he could be. 'Twas his birthright but he could never claim it. Not if he wanted his remaining clansmen and women to live.
"Do they call you chief?" Mairiana asked.
He swallowed hard. "Some of the old ones do, aye. In whispered tones."
"I knew it."
"What of it? I lead no one. I'm an outlaw, nothing more," he said in a hard tone, shoving away the sentiment.
"Wrong."
He eyed her, taking in her slight smile, wondering what she meant.
"Can you not see? You are your father's heir. You give them hope."
"They are only fooling themselves. If the people of my clan are children of the mist, I'm naught but a ghost."
She shrugged. "Whatever gives hope."
He needed to remove the focus from himself.
He could not think about the destruction of his clan overlong.
The disappointment, the overwhelming defeat could consume him.
Nay, he wanted Mairiana to take his mind off it.
He'd never felt more alive than when he was verbally sparring with her. What could he say to vex her?
"What about you?" he asked. "Only moments ago you were hopeless, already an old spinster with one foot in the grave."
She bristled. "Do not mock me. Alec broke my heart."
"Good lord," Darack scoffed, knowing she hated it when he made light of her feelings for Alec. She had to realize her former betrothed was lower than an adder in the grass.
"What?" Mairiana demanded. "Do you think me overdramatic?"
Glad to see her fury roar to life, he smiled internally. He loved getting her riled. And he liked her anger far better than her tears. "Aye. 'Tis typical of spoiled ladies."
When she picked up the fire poker, he drew back a wee bit. Could the lady have a streak of violence?
"I have half a mind to hurtle this at your head, to knock some sense into it," she said. But he could easily tell she would never do that.
A brief, genuine laugh escaped him before he could prevent it. He had not laughed in so long, it brought him up short. "You're a piece of work, I have to say."
She gave an unladylike snort, surprising him and making him want to laugh all the more. "You ken well how to flatter and charm a lady," she muttered.
"Most would agree with you."
"Spare me. 'Tis obvious you're a libertine, although I can't fathom how, given your utter pigheadedness."
He chuckled again. What the devil was wrong with him? Why did he find her insults so amusing? He'd had no idea she could be so blunt and have such a dry wit.
"What? You're smiling at me now?" she asked.
He forced his smile away. "Only because you're being so ridiculous. Silly lass."
"I am no silly lass!"
He clenched his jaw, lest another laugh slip out. Damnation, but she was entertaining. "What are you then? An experienced, jaded woman?"
Her eyes narrowed in that way which reminded him of green cat eyes, so cunning. Would she pounce on him? Bite him? Lick him as if he were cream in a bowl? The very thought made him instantly hard.
Saints!
Indeed, he'd found her beautiful since the first moment he'd seen her, but he had never thought to feel this ruthless punch of arousal, nor the wild desire which clawed its way through him.
Of course, when she'd been sitting on his lap, lust had slowly curled its way through him, but 'twas not as intense as what he felt now.
He'd always seen her as far above his station.
A fancy lady, coddled and pampered, sister of a wealthy chief, part of a clan who didn't have to hide out and skulk about like wolves, being hunted to extinction.
Nay, she was a lady of privilege, while he possessed little more than the clothing on his back and his weapons—no property or titles.
Although, back home, he had a horse and Ewan paid him a good wage for his assignments and duties.
Still, the small cadet branch of the Grant clan, of which he considered himself a member, had to struggle to keep the cattle they possessed, because the neighboring clan kept stealing them.
He and his clansmen were labeled cattle thieves, even though it was their own cattle they were reclaiming.
'Twas enough to drive good men to violence.
"'Tis none of your business," Mairiana blurted.
Darack gave her a blank look. Could the man not pay attention? Where had he been off to, woolgathering? He'd asked her if she was a jaded woman, which to her sounded the same as jezebel.
"I'm a virtuous lady," she said firmly. "And you'd best be remembering that, rogue."
He snorted, giving her a half smile and a dark look. "If you're so virtuous, what do you know of rogues?"
"That they seduce innocent, virtuous females."
"Oh, do we now?" he asked with speculation, his gaze turning to pure mischief. "And how can that possibly happen with a female who is completely virtuous? Such a lady should be immune to that sort of impiety and temptation."
She felt flustered of a sudden, for she suspected she might not be immune to the temptation of him. "I know not. But I hear rumors."
"I'm certain you eat up the gossip about rogues and their scandalous seductions."
"I do no such thing. You are wicked, sir."
The grin he sent her way was devastating in its sensuality. It halted her breath. What was wrong with her? Alec had never made her feel this way, as if her lungs were constricted, as if heat and chills rushed over her. Was she coming down with a sudden fever from the dip in the harbor?
Dropping her gaze from him and drawing in a deep breath, she felt a mite more under control.
"I won't deny it," Darack said. "I am wicked. But I'm an outlaw; what do you expect? I prefer plain speaking. So... are you saying Alec didn't seduce you?"
"Of course he didn't!" Heat flamed over her face.
Amusement lit Darak's dark gaze. "Did he kiss you?"
"How is that your business?" she demanded.
Darack smirked. "He did, I see."
"It does not matter! I'm done with him. In fact, I'm done with all men."
"Och. 'Tis a shame. You are a beautiful woman."
She was unsure how to respond to his unexpected compliment. Was he being sincere? Or trying to seduce her? Her face burned.
"A woman that any man would want to kiss," he continued.
She blew out a doubtful breath. He'd already made it clear he could hardly tolerate her company. He mocked her without mercy and called her spoiled. "Any man? Even you?" she challenged.
"Aye, of course, first and foremost. Are you offering me a kiss?"