Alec smiled just thinking of her. He wondered if she was still sleeping. He’d peeked into her room before coming to see his parents, and Fiona had been curled up in the massive bed, her hair fanned out like a fiery sea around her. He’d had to use all the self-control he could muster to keep himself from gathering her in his arms.
“Have you told her about Kathryn?”
Alec’s face darkened at his father’s mention of the name.
“Do you always have to bear such unpleasant thoughts, Alexander Macpherson?” Elizabeth asked her husband sharply. Truthfully, it was a question she’d wanted to ask herself. Fiona had a right to know before any formal betrothal.
“Nay, my love. It is just a simple question!”
“I planned to tell her one time during the journey, but, I didn’t get the opportunity. But I will tell her.”
“I’d say in the long run it would be a wise move,” the laird put in. “Based on what we know of your former betrothed now, one never knows how the demise of that relationship would be recounted if the Gray girl’s the one doing the telling.”
“Well, from what I can see, that young woman upstairs will not be believing any word said to her by the likes of Kathryn...be she family or no!” Elizabeth looked at her son and husband straight on. “Fiona is an intelligent woman who will not be fooled by the vixen’s double-edged words; her warped, one-sided stories; nor by her openly slanderous accusations, either.”
“Have you forgotten how conniving Kathryn Gray can be, my love?” Alexander asked. “Have you already forgotten the tears, the heart-wrenching words, the way she pretended to pour her heart out to you after the breakup?”
“Nay, I have not forgotten. But I was able to see past all that. And so will Fiona. I know she will.”
Alec moved across the room to the window behind his mother. He desperately hoped so, too. He would tell Fiona about his past, about Kathryn. But he knew that even a full accounting of what had happened would not be enough. Somehow he had to find a way to make sure Fiona would see Kathryn Gray for who she really is. For sometime soon Fiona would be encountering Kathryn, and when that happened, Alec could not be certain of what would happen. In spite of his mother’s confidence, he just didn’t know what Kathryn would say or do.
Outside, the light had taken on the golden hue of early evening, and Alec thought vaguely about how good the weather had remained. Turning, he seated himself on the wide sill, leaning his broad back against one side of the open window and putting one foot up against the far edge. His thoughts wandered back to Fiona. He had to talk to her before dinner. Alec knew his parents would not stand in his way. His mother clearly liked Fiona already. With some prodding his father would come around.
Alec was determined. He had to get her to agree to announce their engagement tonight to Lord Huntly and the others.
Lord Huntly. How surprising it was that the most powerful man in Scotland had come so far to meet and escort Fiona back to the court. Huntly had always been a friend to Alec’s father, but the purpose of his visit this time was clearly not social. Huntly certainly could have waited for Fiona to arrive at Sterling, but he hadn’t.
Well, that was reason enough why Alec wanted his and Fiona’s engagement announced. Friend or not, if Huntly had come to Benmore Castle to protect Fiona from Alec, there would be trouble. Alec had no intention of letting Huntly separate him from Fiona. He would stay at her side until their marriage. He would remain by her side forever.
He looked past his mother to where Lord Alexander sat at the small trestle table, absently sharpening the blade of the new, lightweight sword he’d received as a gift from Huntly. He was busy at his task, but Alec knew from his father’s long pauses that he was deep in thought.
Alec could not help but smile at these two people, so well suited, so obviously committed to each other. He wondered if their feeling for each other, when their relationship began, was anything like what he and Fiona felt. They had always supported Alec and his brothers in everything they’d done or attempted, but he knew his parents could never really understand Alec’s difficulty with finding one woman to whom he could truly commit himself. For life. Alec supposed that he’d always been looking for a relationship like the one he’d seen in his parents’ marriage. He’d nearly given up. And he’d nearly made a grave mistake.
Then he’d met Fiona. And he knew he’d found the mate he’d always been searching for.
Alec’s eyes wandered about the room. It was so very much like them.
The fine stonework, the ornate oak paneling, the heavy carved furniture that graced the room, all spoke of solid Scots tastes. Of his father, so solidly a northerner, so proudly a Highlander. But the other touches were there in the room as well, the feminine touches—the wreathes of woven flowers, the colorful tapestries that covered the walls. That was Alec’s mother, so staunch in her gentler, broader view of the world. They had come from different worlds and backgrounds. And they had made a home. A happy home. That’s what Alec wanted, as well. For Fiona and for himself.
“Well, I say if you’re so much in love with this lass,” Alexander Macpherson proclaimed, looking up from where he sat, “then marry her. Forget about a public betrothal and all that nonsense. Just marry her. Marry her now! Immediately!”
Elizabeth turned her gaze to her husband in sheer surprise. Alec stood and moved back to the fireplace.
“Would you care to explain that?” Elizabeth asked, voicing the question Alec was about to ask. She knew her husband, and she knew there was something he was not telling them. “What do you know, Alexander?”
“What makes you ask that, love?” he responded casually. “I agree. That’s all.”
“Father,” Alec interjected. “You’ve just spent an hour giving me hell about wanting Fiona and rushing Fiona and thinking first and on and on. Don’t take me wrong, I’ll marry her now if she’s ready—”
“While we were hunting today, Huntly and I talked about Fiona,” the laird broke in. “He gave me some information that I don’t believe you’re aware of.”
“About Fiona?” Alec asked shortly. “What does Huntly know about Fiona?”
“It’s not so much about her as it is about her future. Huntly told me that Fiona’s uncle, Lord Gray, is already making noise about appropriate matches for her.”
“Nay!” Lady Elizabeth erupted. “He’s not even seen the lass yet.”
“Nonetheless, he knows an opportunity to boost his family’s stature when he sees one, and Huntly believes the queen will grant Lord Gray leave to marry Fiona off as he sees fit, once she’s got the assurances she wants from the lass about the Crown and the succession.”
Alec stared at his father. If he let Huntly take Fiona, he could lose her. He was going to lose her.
“And don’t think Gray will marry her off to just anyone,” Alexander continued. “He’ll find a highly suitable match, perhaps even a royal one. But it will be one that will serve his own power-hungry desires quite nicely.”
The old laird looked at his wife and back at Alec.
“And you can wager every sheep on Macpherson land, Lord Gray will never agree to a marriage between Fiona and you, Alec! After all, you publicly rejected his own daughter, and he’s a man who never forgets an injury.”
Alec smashed his fist into his open palm and turned toward the open hearth. This had been his fear from the moment he’d learned her true identity. His mind raced, searching for other possibilities. He could not let this happen. He whirled on his father.
“What would happen if she were to marry before Lord Gray formally recognizes her? Before she reaches the queen at Sterling?”
“Aye, lad. That’s the spirit.” The laird nodded, glancing over at the affirming look on his wife’s face. “Huntly is the most powerful man in Scotland today, and you know he’ll stand behind you. I said before, and I say now: Marry the lass.”
Fiona looked at herself in the silvered glass that stood against the wall.
Never in her l
ife had she worn such a fine gown. The ivory-colored dress laced with threads of gold clung to her slender frame and then flared to a long, full skirt below the curves of her hips. The tight sleeves hugged her arms while the velvet cuffs extended over her fingers. Fiona eyed the neckline. It was way too low for her liking. She took hold of the velvet-collared neckline and tried to pull the burgundy-colored trim higher over the top of her breasts. Oh, God, she thought, everyone will be able to see all this skin. She moved to the side of the bed and removed her mother’s cross from the side-table, hanging the jeweled ornament around her neck. Looking in the mirror again, she gathered her long red hair and pulled it over one shoulder, trying to hide some of her exposed skin. Fiona caught the curious look of the young maid in the mirror. She was getting all worked up over nothing. Nobody will even notice it, she told herself. But would Alec?
She had awakened to the sound of Claire, the young maid, knocking lightly before entering Fiona’s room. Fiona had been amazed, upon opening her eyes, at the bountiful array of beautiful dresses, gowns, and accessories that had somehow—in an incredibly short span of time—been so masterfully created and then delivered to her room.
Fiona looked up at Claire as the lass busily reorganized the room, hanging dresses and quickly putting everything in order. Fiona picked up a fine silk nightgown, marveled at the soft suppleness of the material and the finely stitched handiwork. Running it across her hand, she noticed the thinness of the fabric and how it molded to her outstretched fingers beneath. She wondered with a suppressed sigh if Alec would want to see her in that. She wondered if he would come to her here at Benmore—tonight—and share her bed. Suddenly feeling ashamed of herself for harboring such thoughts, Fiona began to refold the nightgown quickly and put it away.
“Did you make these clothes, Claire?” she asked softly, looking over all the finery which lay about.
“Oh, no, m’lady,” the young woman responded. “Lady Elizabeth’s seamstress and all her helpers have been making up these clothes. I’m not so talented with a needle.”
“I never have been, either.”
“Lady Elizabeth could teach you, m’lady. She has the patience of Job.”
“Job knew needlework?”
The young maid began to giggle. “I don’t think so, m’lady. In the guild play last spring, Job was left in rags on the dunghill.”
This time Fiona was the one to laugh, but the forceful knock on the door cut the moment short. Claire ran quickly, opening the door. From where Fiona stood, she could not see who was at the door. But Claire’s quick curtsy before disappearing told Fiona that the maid had been dismissed.
“May I come in?” At the sound of Alec’s voice, Fiona bounded for the door.
Before he could react, Fiona had him by the hand and was closing the door behind him.
“M’lady, consider my reputa—”
Rising to her toes, Fiona took hold of his neck and stopped Alec’s words with a searing kiss, before pulling back quickly and sliding out of his grasp. Suddenly conscious of her forwardness, she backed to the table, putting a distance between them.
“Does this mean you’ve missed me as much as I’ve missed you?” Alec asked wryly.
She gave him a half smile, feeling the heat rising in her face. All she could do was nod slowly. Looking at Alec, quite dapper in his impeccably fitted clothes and standing so comfortably in the middle of that room, was enough to quicken the breath in her chest. She let her eyes travel the length of him, to quench their thirst. A moment earlier she’d been so excited to see him that she’d cast propriety to the wind. Now Fiona felt embarrassed at her own audacity.
“I had to give my word of honor to my parents that I would...” Alec’s words died in his throat as Fiona unconsciously pushed her fiery mane back over her shoulder. His eyes took in the swells of flesh that beckoned from the framing neckline of burgundy velvet.
“I... I told them I’d behave myself and escort you downstairs.”
“They made you give your word about such a simple task?”
“Somehow I think they knew it wouldn’t be so simple.”
“But why?” she teased, coyly leaning against the table.
In the golden light that was streaming in her window, Fiona was more than alluring—she was bewitching. Alec walked across the room to her and lifted her in his arms. His mouth settled on hers, crushing her lips in a kiss that all but answered her question.
“I’ve told them about us,” he whispered in her ear, his mouth grazing the skin of her earlobe, her neck. As he kissed the hollow of her neck lazily, he could feel her pulse fluttering wildly beneath his lips, and the quiet moan that issued from deep within her stirred in him an already gathering storm of desire. He held her closer, even tighter.
“You mean about the tower,” she murmured. Her hands moved up his chest. She could feel his heart beating hard and fast.
“Aye, I told them everything.” His hand moved to the front of her dress and gently caressed her breast as he leaned down and placed a kiss on the exposed swell of milky white flesh.
“Everything?” she asked, watching as he slowly tugged down the neckline of her dress. Slowly, ever so slowly, exposing more of her skin.
“I explained in detail about the time you tried to seduce me in my own study at Dunvegan Castle.” He leaned down and tasted her freshly bared skin. His hand moved across the smooth material of the garment, pulling it even lower, until finally one breast was completely revealed. She took a sharp breath and ran her fingers into his hair as he cupped her. She gasped as his mouth took possession of the nipple.
“You’re a wild thing, Alec Macpherson,” she said hoarsely, the sweet torment taking over her senses. Her fingers traced the lines of his shoulders and moved again through his hair. “You’re driving me wild...Alec. But it’s best to stop. Before I disgrace myself before your family.”
“’Tis true, my love.” He pulled back smiling, his eyes delving into the incredible depths of her eyes. “I told them what happened in the tower, about how you were finally successful in taking advantage of my unblemished innocence.” Alec’s thumb gently continued its circling motion around the aroused nipple.
Fiona fought to catch her breath, and then, realizing what he’d just said, gently pushed his blond head away from her and punched him in the chest.
He glared playfully at her and gathered her in so tightly that she couldn’t move.
“Unblemished innocence!” she growled, pushing at his chest. She tried to pull her dress back up over her breast, but he pulled it down again. This time she playfully slapped his hands away as she accomplished the task. “Beast! I’m certain, in this castle alone, I could find a few that might speak differently of your wayward character.”
Alec eased himself into the chair at the side of the table and pulled her onto his lap. “Is it that important?”
“Is what important?” Fiona asked, trying to work herself off his lap. She knew what they were talking about, and she was sure he must have been with many women before her. But she didn’t really want to talk about it.
He held on tight. “My innocence.”
“You were not a virgin?” She asked with mock dismay.
“Nay,” he answered matter-of-factly.
“I’m shocked, Alec.” She leaned over, giving him a quick kiss on his lips and jumping off his lap. “But please, love, let’s not talk about it. What’s past is past. I don’t want to know which of the women I might run into have shared your bed.”
Alec looked at her back. She was avoiding his eyes. It seemed to take forever before she, at last, turned and looked steadily at him.
“We don’t need any unnecessary bloodshed, do we?” she asked, picking up the dagger he’d given her and tucking it into the gold-linked chain that encircled her waist. “You never know how one might act when faced with unwanted adversaries.”
Alec looked at her. In spite of her playful words, he could see the welling of tears in her eyes before she turned away
from him again. She was not ready to listen to the things he was no longer willing to tell. About himself. About his past. About Kathryn.
There would be time enough after they were married.
He moved across the room and stood behind her, enfolding her in his arms.
“Fiona,” he began softly. “My love, later on, when you are ready, perhaps after some sunny afternoon of making love, while you sit breast-feeding our sixth or seventh bairn, there are things about me that I would like to tell you.”
Fiona laughed and twisted in his arms to look up into his face.
“They must be incredibly terrible things, Alec,” she teased.
“Aye. Perhaps after the eighth bairn.”
“Do they concern other women? From your dark and distant past?”
“Aye,” he said, his hands gently caressing her arms. “Very dark and very distant.”
“Then I don’t want to know.” She rested her head against his chest. “What happened to your ‘unblemished innocence’?”
Alec buried his face in Fiona’s jasmine-scented tresses and lightly kissed the top of her head. “When I met you, my sweet, life began anew.”
“So we both have demons in our past.”
“Aye, but that past is gone. The present concerns us now. The present and the future. Fiona, I want you to know that everything that I have ever held dear, every path that I have ever walked, every mistake I’ve made, every breath I have ever taken has only prepared me for the life I ask you to share in. You, my angel love, are the God-given and undeserved answer to another lifetime that I’ve lived—a lifetime that at times seems only a dream now. A lifetime that has all too often been no more than a horrible nightmare. But you, my sweet, have brought me back to the world of waking daylight, of sunshine and kindness and goodness and integrity. You have taught me what it is to love and to be loved, Fiona. To care and to be cared for. And now I pledge my life—this new, good, dedicated life—to you, Fiona. I love you. ”
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