by Alisa Adams
Steil scowled at her. He wanted to kiss her again, right now.
He scowled even more furiously.
Neely scowled back at Steil.
Since he had arrived he had not said two words to her. He scowled any time he saw her, and she scowled right back at him. He infuriated her. The nerve of the man. Not even a goodbye then, and not even a hello now. Or an “I am sorry about that kiss long ago.” Or perhaps “Hello, I am not sorry about that kiss long ago and I would like another please.”
She sighed loudly as she glared right back at him.
He looked wonderful in a kilt. Even better than he did as a younger man. He wore a dark brown jacket over his cream linen shirt, with his tartan pinned at his shoulder. The coat made his shoulders look impossibly broad. His strong, thick, sun-kissed neck was exposed in the V of his open shirt under his jacket. He wore tall boots that encased and showed off his muscular calves. His dark auburn hair hung to his shoulders in waves and curls that made her fingers curl into her fists to stop them from reaching out to run her fingers through his hair.
She knew he would not welcome it. He was different now. Hard, cold, icy. Angry. He had lost his home, his lands. She could read the frustration and bitter disappointment in his face, in those piercing blue eyes that always unsettled her, made her stomach do little flips.
He was no longer the sweet, joyful boy she remembered. The boy she had fallen in love with. It was a man who stood before her now.
“There are reports that lights have been seen at Brough,” he said out of the blue, in a clipped voice, as he looked off into the distance.
Neely sat up straight, her mouth open in surprise.
“My sister Swan is happy here. McKay is a good husband. I am leaving. I am going to Brough to see what these lights are,” he said gruffly, staring off into the fields around McKay Castle.
Neely stood up quickly. “I am going too,” she said.
Steil whipped his head around to pin his steely blue eyes on her. “Ye will not be tagging along with me. Ye will stay here with Swan, and that traitorous woman that came with ye.”
Neely narrowed her eyes at him. “I willnae have to be tagging along with anyone to go home, least of all ye. And why are ye calling Kaithria a traiter?” she asked indignantly.
Steil looked hard at her, his brows furrowing. “I heard that the king's illegitimate son was hidden away in Brough, brought there by that woman Kaithria. ’Tis why Brough was destroyed,” he answered in a short, furious voice. “The king’s enemies were looking for that boy. I know that he is one of the boys that me sister Swan and the McKay have adopted as their own.” He continued to glare at Neely, daring her to say otherwise.
Neely swallowed hard. “Part of that ’tis true, he was at Brough, and is here now. Safe and protected within the McKay clan so no one can use him against the king,” Neely said. She raised her chin in defiance. “But Kaithria did not know this. And we dinnae know if he is the king’s own or Bonnie Prince Charlie's son. And we dinnae care!” Neely took a breath. “Laird Wolf said as much to the king in his missive to him. The king’s secret is safe with him. And if the boy is the Pretender’s son, the king cannae now admit he was lying when he told Wolf that the boy was his own and he actually wanted him for nefarious reasons,” Neely said firmly.
Steil stared down at her with ice in his blue eyes.
Neely did not like that look he was giving her. “He is just a wee boy!” she fumed, staring back at the big warrior in front of her. “Either way, the little boy will not be used in a game of power between either of them.”
Steil lifted the corner of his lips in a mock grin. “I dinnae believe Kaithria dinnae know,” he said caustically. “And as for the boy possibly being the Pretender’s son, if that is so, there are those that may still come for him.” Steil looked towards the large castle. “I do know the McKay willnae let anything happen to his own, that I am sure, and the king knows this as well, else he would have thrown the McKay into gaol for disobeying his order.” He turned his head and narrowed his eyes on Neely. “’Twas a dangerous choice the Wolf made, choosing me sister Swan and those boys over his duty to the king,” he said slowly and quietly, as he studied Neely from under his lashes.
“He chose love and family,” Neely said crisply.
Steil studied Neely. “A choice that would have got him hanged if he wasn’t one of the most powerful chiefs in the Highlands, and who has his own army.”
“A chief who serves his king loyally, as does his army. The king knows this. And knows he will protect and keep the king’s secret. Love is stronger than might,” Neely said in a firm voice.
“Ridiculous,” Steil said savagely. “Which of the three young boys is the one?” Steil asked sharply.
She stared hard at the cold man before her, her hands in fists at her sides. “I told ye, we dinnae know, and it doesnae matter. All of the orphans are McKays now,” she said curtly. “I am going back to Brough,” she said in a stern voice. “With ye or without ye, I care not, but I am going home.”
“Neilina Eunson! Ye arnae! From what I hear there is no home left,” he said brutally. His eyes were full of ice cold steel as he stared down at her.
“I want to go home,” she insisted through gritted teeth. “I need to know if me da has returned. Those lights could be him!” she said staunchly, holding her ground in front of this man who seethed with furious anger. “I understand yer anger—” she started to say.
Steil threw his hands up. “Ye understand?” he raged at her. “Ye think ye understand why I am angry? All I could think about in those bloody battles was home. When I held me wounded mates in me arms, there on the battlefield, and watched them die, I thought of home. As I watched their blood drain away while they cried for their mithers with their very last breaths, I thought of home. There was nothing I could do for them, nothing.”
He looked down at the ground, then up to the sky with a grimace of pain as if he wanted to rage to the heavens. “In the silence of the night, all the images and sounds of death on the battlefields haunted me. I turned inward to me memory and looked for the beaches of Brough. I saw the great black horses, peacefully grazing out in the green fields. I saw Brough Castle against a blue sky. It was me escape. I fought on. I held on. Because I just wanted to see home again. My mither died long ago, and then me da. Brough was all that I have left. Brough is the heart of me. The heart of the McKinnons.”
Neely watched the emotions flash across his face.
“Ye have yer sister, Lady Swan. She is yer family. Ye have her!” she whispered. He had not mentioned his sister in his memories, but then, she was so much younger than he...and had they ever been close? Of course, to him, perhaps she was just a female. But still, they were family! The horrors of battle had changed the sunny boy she used to know. She had to face that. She was just a simple lass and he the Lord of Brough Castle.
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This book is a work of fiction. Some of the characters are real historical figures, but the others exist only in the imagination of the author. All events in this book are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.