Chapter Three #3
Before I could dwell further on what the lairds’ angst might be about, a Morrison warrior stepped into the ring to challenge Kade, cheered on by his ranks and his clan members.
It was Aleck, one of my father’s first officers.
He was a massive ruffian who was better known for his brute strength than his tactical intelligence.
He could throw a boulder the farthest, drink ale the fastest and had once killed a man with his bare hands.
He was also one of the officers who had beaten me, at the orders of my father, when I had attempted to follow Caleb to Edinburgh.
In fact, Aleck and I had known each other as children.
We were the same age and he had once, when we were fourteen, given me a thistle flower.
At that age, he’d been a gangly boy with long limbs, knobby knees and a clumsiness that was likely a result of his ungainly adolescence.
He’d eventually grown into his frame, towering over most of his peers and gaining a reputation not only as the strongest but also the most ambitious.
He had been born of a lowly status and would therefore never be eligible to marry one of the laird’s daughters, as stated by my father himself.
Nor would he amount to much; he might have aspired to be a small landholder, and a soldier of some ranking in the laird’s army.
But Aleck had not been deterred by any obstacles of class or breeding.
He had spent the past six years training endlessly, besting the blue bloods and proving his loyalty so thoroughly that he had recently gained the position of first officer.
Twice he had asked for my hand, and twice he had been refused.
I believe my father thought Aleck’s proposals to be in jest, a joke shared over ale in the late hours of strategic discussions.
My father had only mentioned this to me recently, an offhand comment to prove that I could do better than Caleb, that I was sought after by soldiers and nobles alike and that I should not set my sights so low: a reference to both Caleb and Aleck, I knew.
As Aleck had beaten me, more than once, I couldn’t help feeling that the whip’s bite was laced with sweet revenge. I had not accepted the thistle flower Aleck had offered me those many years ago; my sisters had laughed and I had followed their lead.
Now, as he faced off against Kade, I thought they looked evenly matched.
Aleck was bulkier than Kade and clearly outweighed him by a fair amount, but Kade was quicker and wilier.
The crowd watched as the dueling men circled, swords raised.
Aleck struck first, swinging his weapon with such force that it made a thrumming whirr as it cut through the air.
Kade met the slice with his own sword. The clash of metal was deafening.
I couldn’t imagine how it would feel to be on the receiving end of such a heavy, solid blow.
I found myself wondering in that moment if it hurt, if the jolt would surge up Kade Mackenzie’s arms and into his body, if the jarring impact was as intense as it looked.
The turn of my thoughts surprised me, that I might feel an unmistakable note of concern for him, that I hoped, somewhere in the periphery of my own emotions, that he would not be harmed.
Kade faltered only slightly but shook it off and quickly retaliated with his own strike.
The spar continued and I watched with undue fascination.
It was as skilled a fight as I had ever witnessed: pure brawn versus trained, intricate strategy.
Kade deflected and sidestepped. He jabbed and sliced.
Aleck had only one move. He was strong but predictable, and Kade took his advantage, making impact, once and again, until his sword was stained with Aleck’s blood.
Aleck, enraged, struck again. Kade ducked and raised his decorated shield.
The sharp points on its surface sliced across Aleck’s arm and he howled in pain, dropping his sword.
Kade leaped on Aleck, catching him off guard and upsetting his balance, until Kade sat astride Aleck, his sword held to Aleck’s neck in a very decisive win.
“I would not want to be alone with that man,” whispered Bonnie.
“Nay,” agreed Agnes, her eyes wide. “Either one of them. Have you ever seen such a savage display in all your life?”
Kade was slow to withdraw his sword from Aleck’s throat.
There seemed to be some kind of continued challenge between the two men, and only when Laird Mackenzie and my father approached them did Kade leave off.
He stepped away and removed his helmet to reveal his long, disheveled hair, making him appear all the more wild.
Even from this distance, though, I could detect that Laird Mackenzie’s discussion with Kade had nothing to do with the fight.
My father spoke, gesturing in our general direction.
Both Laird Mackenzie and Kade, to my utter dismay, looked directly at me.
My heart clutched in my chest at the visceral impact of their scrutiny.
My father took his leave of them, ordering Aleck to rise and follow him, along with several of his other officers.
He walked over to where my sisters and I were standing, and he said gruffly, “Stella. Come with me.”
Without intending to, I grasped Ann’s sleeve. “Just me?”
“Just you. Now. I have something urgent I must discuss with you. The rest of you may return to your chambers where Stella will join you shortly.”
I had a bad feeling about this. And so did Maisie. Our eyes met briefly, but I was being summoned, surrounded, flanked and escorted at the insistence of the blood-smeared Aleck and others of my father’s ranks.
Dutifully and with no other choice, I followed.
* * *
“BUT, FATHER, I CANNOT! Please. Please don’t force me.” I tried to stop the tears but could not hold them back. The room blurred and I was glad of it. I wanted to block out every glint of this distressing reality.
My father was irate, as always, that I was not accepting his decree with blind obedience. “Do not defy me, lass,” he seethed. “I have had enough of your pathetic excuses and your ill-fated yearnings. Your pleading will not be indulged.”
“But I don’t love him. I don’t even know him.
” I could acknowledge a certain draw to Kade Mackenzie, but my curiosity was fraught with dark chasms of the unknown.
A cutting wit, a glinting eye, a masculine radiance: it was not enough.
These were superficial details that did nothing to tone down the certainty of his proven, volatile aggression that was much too fresh in my mind.
My father contemplated me with undisguised contempt. Then he turned from me and chuckled quietly, the sound entirely devoid of humor. He took a long swig from the silver flask he held.
“You prefer the simpering blacksmith to a proven warrior of one of the highest-ranking noble families in the Highlands?” my father hissed.
Aleck contemplated my despair with his dark, suggestive eyes.
He was entirely untroubled by the fact that he was smeared with sweat and dirt, or that his wounds, although not life-threatening, still ran with fresh blood.
He stood by the door with his arms folded across his massive chest, as though to ensure that I didn’t attempt a sudden getaway.
To be sure, he was an effective deterrent; his filthy, bloodied bulk would ensure that I kept as much distance between us as I possibly could have.
“Your feelings for him, I’m afraid,” my father continued, “are entirely inconsequential. Laird Mackenzie is as dedicated to this alliance as I am. Wilkie Mackenzie, however, has all but refused to marry your sister. He favors another. A fair-haired foreigner, apparently. I know not where she hails from, nor do I care. It matters not. What does matter is that a wedding will take place, and soon. It has been decided, therefore, that you will wed the third brother.”
My father’s suggestion was unthinkable. My worst fears were being realized. If I could remind him of Kade Mackenzie’s famously wild, unpredictable character, surely my father would reconsider. “His reputation—”
“Is that of an accomplished, extremely well-armed soldier, which Aleck here can only attest to,” my father said with some disapproval; he was less than pleased by Aleck’s earlier performance in the training grounds.
“He is also brother to a highly successful laird and warrior. You are fortunate that Kade Mackenzie has offered to step up and fulfill his duty where Wilkie has failed.”
“But he’s as brutal and stormy as he could possibly be!” My voice sounded high with desperation and I made an effort to calm it unsuccessfully. “You witnessed his reckless behavior in the sparring ring. I cannot marry a man like that.”
“What I witnessed was a man so skilled in the art of warfare that he bested one of my strongest men and walked away without so much as a scratch. His brother believes he might learn how to teach his skills wielding weapons and also designing them, and in that regard he would be a valuable military leader.”
“Please, Father. There is more to this than military considerations, surely. ’Tis my life we’re discussing!
He’s quick-tempered. Dangerous, even. I—I don’t want to be his wife.
” More specifically: I didn’t want to share his bed.
To be forever bound to his tempestuous energy, no matter how curious I might have been about the undeniably enticing effect that energy infused me with the few times I had made his brief acquaintance.
Any allure he might have possessed was ominously overshadowed by the more immediate and fearsome image of his untamed power in the sparring ring.
I knew only too well the kind of damage such manly strength could inflict.