“Did all your clansmen support your appointment as chief?”
“There was some argument as to whether or not a woman could do the task of a man, but the protests were few.”
“But those few might cause the greatest trouble,” Aleck countered. “Maybe our king believes—and wisely, I might add—that if The Morgan of Morgan has a strong and loyal man by her side, no one will try to usurp her authority. Hence, your father’s pledge is certain to be kept.”
Chandra’s ire rose. “’Tis male vanity that speaks here. You men are all the same. You fancy a female as being naught but a simpleminded fool, who can do little else but sew her embroidery, tend her garden, and fuss over her hair and clothing. You seek to protect us, believing we are weaklings who swoon at the least little thing. ’Tis a farce, I say.”
“By what I’ve seen at court, I must disagree.” Somewhat, he thought, allowing that many of the intrigues played out there were perpetrated by women. They were not all as frail as the masculine gender would like to believe. “Besides,” he finished, needing to convince her she needed a husband, “it is a given fact: The gentler sex can in no way compete with a man.”
“Perhaps, by raw strength alone, they cannot. But a woman’s intelligence is equal to a man’s, if not well above it.”
“I concede there are many intelligent women, but it is their emotions that make them weak. By their nature alone, they are unable do the job that is meant for a man.”
“Have you so readily forgotten your virgin queen?” Chandra asked, feeling her ire rise. “By means of Elizabeth’s rule, England has become a power unto itself. Never, in the sum of its history, has your country been held in such awe. ’Twas all because of a woman, too. And I wager that England will not see such reverence again—at least, not until another woman rules.”
Aleck considered whether or not he should acquaint his ward with the fact that over the years, Elizabeth had always sought counsel from a man. Not wishing to continue their argument, he withheld the information. He’d allow her to think what she would. However, there was one thing he wanted to know. “Why is it, little one, your anger has suddenly been cast upon me? I have told you that I do not take any pleasure in being your guardian. The role was commanded of me. I was given little choice.”
“Were you given any choice at all?” she asked.
“’Twas this or the Tower.”
“And what is your reward?”
“A dukedom, should I succeed.”
Chandra’s eyes sparked blue fire. “So,” she accused, “despite what you’ve said, you did have a choice after all.”
“I would not call going to the Tower much of an option.”
“But you do get a reward, correct?”
“’Twas stated I would.”
Throwing up her hands, Chandra stomped off toward the horses. Stunned, Aleck looked after her, then quickly strode in her direction.
“What is your point?” he asked, catching her arm.
She spun toward him. “My point is, I have been given no choice at all. No reward awaits me. Regardless of her title, regardless of her circumstance, unless she is queen, a woman is always at the mercy of a man. She is treated as though she were chattel—a possession, a slave. She’s told what to do and when to do it. Her own desires are of no concern. Simply because James thinks I am weak, I’ll be forced to wed. He has not come here himself to see if his fears are well-founded. No, it is because I am a woman that he assumes it is so—that the clan Morgan is in turmoil.”
“Our king’s fears are well-founded,” Aleck insisted, thinking of Cedric and those who followed him. “Else he would not have sent me. All you have to do is look around you to see maliciousness spawning within the midst of the clan. Alone, you will not be able to quell its growth. Whether by cunning or by force, only a man has the power to stop it.”
Incensed that he thought her powerless, that he believed her clansmen would turn on her as would a rabid hound, Chandra attempted to twist free of his hold. “Loose me,” she hissed when his grip remained fast.
“First, you’ll hear me out.” Her sharp nails dug into his flesh; clenching his jaw, Aleck felt his own anger burgeon. He propelled her toward the horses. Stubborn wench! he silently pronounced, for she refused to believe anything he said. More than ever, he did not wish to become embroiled in the clan Morgan’s intrigues. Her husband could expose the treachery and stem the revolt. He was going back to England. “Let me repeat: Our king’s fears are well-founded. But that is of little importance. When James has issued an order, whether it be to a man or to a woman, one had better comply, or risk finding oneself without a head. I am in no way eager to go to the block, and I’d hope neither are you.”
They reached their mounts, and Aleck tossed the mare’s reins to his ward. Anger smoldered inside Chandra, but wisely she kept silent. She’d known this day would end in disaster, and it had. After they were astride the horses, her guardian studied her long and hard.
“By our king’s behest, I have a function to perform,” he said, “and so do you. I have promised to find you a good husband, and that I will. But be assured, Chandra Morgan, by month’s end you shall be wedded. You’ll not escape your fate. Is that understood?”
Her jaw clamped tightly, her gaze raked over his face. Then, with a rebellious toss of her head, she spurred the mare into a gallop, heading toward the base of the hill and the narrow path leading up it. Hooves beat a quick tattoo as the refrain of the old legend whirled through her mind:
Ladybird, ladybird, flee, else the winged hunter transform your destiny. Ladybird, ladybird, fly, sweep to the heavens ever so high ...
Were she simply a bird, she thought, indignant tears blinding her eyes, she’d fly far, far away, where it was safe.
Blinking hard, Chandra guided the mare upward to the top of the brae, then again pushed her mount into a gallop, aiming them toward home. She cared little if the Sassenach was left way behind or got lost altogether. The man understood nothing about her or what she needed—his pity be damned! Her sights set on the distant castle, she heard the powerful tread of her guardian’s stallion coming up behind her. Horse and rider edged ever closer, and she urged her mare to go faster, wanting only to be free of him.
All at once, her gaze shot to the sky. There, high above the Morgan stronghold, soared the hawk. Round and round it circled, searching relentlessly.
You’ll not escape your fate.
Chapter
6
From where Aleck sat at the head table in the great hall, he viewed the multitude of male guests who had begun invading Lochlaigh Castle nearly a week ago. The number had expanded to at least three dozen beyond those on his ward’s list, which, thank goodness, he’d cut by half. As he stared at the group, Aleck wondered if there was even one among them who would satisfy James’s requirements. So far, of the nearly fivescore interviewed, all had failed.
Sighing, he knew he should get on with his task, but after each interrogation it took more and more effort. By the end of the first day, he’d already grown weary of listening to these Highland cocks crow about their alleged merits—none of which could be substantiated, in Aleck’s view. Yet each had insisted he was the best man possible and should be chosen as the Lady Lochlaigh’s lifelong mate. Not one seemed worthy of his ward, being either too weak or too domineering, too closefisted or too much the spendthrift, too gruff in manners or too foppish. To Aleck, in one way or the other, they were all flawed. And not one, it had soon become apparent, was loyal to James. Multiplying the continuous line of applicants by six long, tedious days, Aleck understood why he was in such a sullen mood.
A list of names had been drawn from the new arrivals at Lochlaigh Castle. As Aleck studied it, he saw he had reached number one hundred of the one hundred forty who were bidding for Chandra’s hand in marriage. Another full day of this and he was certain to go insane. “Sir John, please escort the next man forward.”
While he waited, Aleck’s fingers unknowingly drum
med the table. He watched as the knight approached a large man with russet hair. Separating himself from the milling crowd, the man followed Sir John to the fore of the room; Aleck scrutinized him carefully. From beneath his belted plaid protruded thickset legs covered by red fur pelts. On closer inspection, Aleck discerned it was the man’s own hair. The thick, wiry stuff even sprouted from the caps of his knees.
Distantly he envisioned his ward’s shapely limbs entwined with the ones that marched toward him, and the quill in his hand immediately marked an X next to the man’s name. Realizing what he’d done, Aleck scratched it out, reminding himself that he needed to be objective. Then the man was facing him.
“Gavin MacElroy of the Clan Elroy,” the man introduced himself, sitting in the chair opposite Aleck. The newcomer leaned forward, propping his arm on the table. “’Twould be best for both of us were we to get on with it. This waiting has near driven me mad.”
Aleck opened his mouth, intending to present himself and start the questioning, but the man rambled on. His jaw sprang closed, and he stared at MacElroy’s features, specifically the large wart that grew at the corner of his nose. The unsightly growth annoyed Aleck; his hand clamped around the quill, nearly snapping it in two, as he forced it away from the parchment, lest he mark it anew.
“I knew her father,” Aleck heard him say. “He was a good man, but he’d grown weak in the end. The girl needs a strong hand to guide both her and the clan Morgan. This hand”—he thrust his meaty fist before Aleck’s face—“is the one that shall do it. It wields a sword with the force of ten men. No one shall invade this place and live. Aye, with me as her protector, she’ll see her clan’s power again become what it once was.”
“You speak of power and protection, MacElroy,” Aleck said. “Do you plan to use your sword solely in the name of our king?”
MacElroy’s eyebrows shot up. “James? Pah! He coveted the English throne, and to get it, he played a sly game, slavering to those bastards from the south. He deserted his country and his people. He’s a weakling who fancies pretty young men. Peculiar, he is, no man at all. I owe him nothing. No true Highlander does.”
Unlike many of the others, this man did not hedge his words. He cared little if what he said gave insult. The man had failed the test within a few short sentences, but Aleck found himself quite interested in MacElroy’s views. “You are forthright in your opinions, sir. Most candid, indeed. Tell me, have you always felt this way about James?”
“’Tis well known that I have. His laws and the laws of the Crown are useless to us Highlanders. The ways of the clans are as old as time itself. To survive, we must live by our own law. We will fight to the death to keep what is ours.”
A decided insurrectionist, Aleck thought, surveying him for a long moment. “Are there many who believe the same as you?”
“Aye—to one degree or another, nearly everyone in this room. The few who are left bend with the wind, much like a young tree—first this way, then that. They have not the stomach to take a stand.” He leaned back in his chair. “Aye, with me as her husband, the Lady Lochlaigh will keep her lands safe. Maybe even claim more.”
To one degree or another, Aleck silently repeated, his suspicions rising. His attention turned to the woman who had just entered the room. Her long, flame-red hair flowed down her back, swinging gently against the curve of her slender hips. The Morgan plaid was draped over one linen-covered shoulder and belted at her tiny waist, its tails clinging to her soft blue woolen skirt. Doeskin boots covered her small feet. “And the Lady Lochlaigh, what do you have planned for her?” Aleck asked, still staring at Chandra.
“Why, I’d keep her with child, naturally. We shall have many sons—warriors all—to carry on the fight One day, the eldest will be named chief.” MacElroy leaned forward again. “The girl is quite bonny. A tempting little thing. ’Twould be highly enjoyable to lie with her on the long, frosty nights through the winter ahead. Once we’re wedded, I’ll bed her within the hour.” He chuckled. “No sense in delaying my pleasure. Who knows? My seed might meet its mark. A son could result from our first joining.”
Under the pressure of Aleck’s hand, the quill suddenly disintegrated into several pieces. The thing still clutched firmly in his grip, he met MacElroy’s eyes. “You have enlightened me on many things, sir. For that, I thank you. You may take your leave. When I have come to a decision, the whole of you will be informed.”
With a quick nod, the Highlander got up and strode toward the group that now surrounded the Lady Lochlaigh. Greeting her suitors, for it was the first she’d seen of them this day, she smiled brightly, offering each one her hand. Aleck studied her intently.
“It does not go well, does it?” Sir John said near the earl’s ear.
“No, it does not.” Taking hold of what was left of the quill, he plunged the stubby tip into the ink, then struck MacElroy’s name from the parchment altogether. Chandra’s laughter erupted into the air, Aleck’s eyes were drawn to her again. “For one who insists that she’ll not be made to wed, her spirits seem extremely gay. Especially when she’s in the midst of those who have offered for her.” He studied her more closely. “Sir John, tell the Lady Lochlaigh that I wish to speak to her in private. I shall await her in her antechamber.”
With that, Aleck rose from the table. He headed toward the stairs, his hard strides crushing the herbal grasses strewing the stone floor, a sweet fragrance wafted into the air. His nostrils were flared, but the Earl of Montbourne did not notice the normally soothing scent. He was far too busy trying to control his temper.
“What do you think he wants?” Devin asked, trailing Chandra up the stairs.
“Maybe he’s grown weary of his interviews and wishes to inform me that he is leaving for England while it is still daylight.”
“Do you truly believe that?”
“I can only pray it is so.” They had reached the door of her antechamber, and Chandra turned to her cousin. So gentle a spirit, she thought, looking into his doe brown eyes. Without knowing why, she rose on tiptoes and kissed his cheek; then her hand caressed the area where her lips had settled. “Wait for me here,” she whispered. “He has ordered me to come alone.”
Devin captured her hand as it started to fall from his cheek. He lightly kissed her palm. “I hope, Chandra, that your lord of legend will be forever kind to you,” he said, then smiled softly.
A small frown creased her brow. Lord of legend. She had never thought of him as such, but she supposed the term was correct. “Why do you say ‘forever’?”
“As in the old myth, you seem to believe he has the power to change the course of your destiny. If so, your future is in his hands. I hope that whatever happens, all your tomorrows will be happy ones.” Gently he squeezed her hand. “Now, go. Don’t be afraid of this winged hunter. For all his fierceness, he might actually be a dove.”
Chandra smiled up at Devin, then turned and faced the door. Smoothing her hand over the length of Morgan plaid resting against her skirt, she squared her shoulders. With a twist of her wrist, the latch was released; she entered the room.
“Close it,” Aleck said coldly, nodding toward the door. Startled by his tone his ward merely stared at him. “I said close it.”
While the heavy panel swung to, the latch clicking into place, Chandra assessed her guardian. His taut backside leaned against the sturdy oak table. His muscular legs were outstretched, his feet crossed at the ankles. Arms folded over his jerkin-covered chest, he did not move. Knowing his mood was grim, she kept her position by the door. “Y-you asked to see me?”
“Come hither,” he commanded.
His voice was much like the thick frost that covered the Highland moors in winter; Chandra hesitated. Trouble brewed, she was certain. Then, as she eyed him, a determination rose inside her. She’d not show this man any fear. Slowly she walked toward him.
“Closer,” Aleck ordered when she stopped several yards away. “Stand at my feet.”
Defiantly she tilted her ch
in. “I am near enough. Say what it is you have to say.”
“Come closer, I said. Or has the Lady Lochlaigh suddenly become a coward?”
“Safety dictates that I stay here,” she said, noting the small tic pulsating along his clamped jaw.
Hard eyes bored into her. “Safety dictates that you obey me. Do as I’ve commanded.”
Chandra refused to move. “’Twould be better for us both if I do not.”
A cold smile crossed his lips. “I take it that you fear me. Is there a reason you should?”
“N-no,” she lied, suddenly certain he’d discovered the truth about the list.
“Then obey me and come hither.”
A myriad of thoughts raced through Chandra’s mind. She was far closer to him than she was to the door. In two strides he could be upon her. Devin stood outside in the hall. Alerted by her scream, her cousin would most likely rush to her aid. But he was no match for the Sassenach, especially in his weakened condition. Devin knew that, too. Should he sound the alarm, calling out for Cedric, a bloodbath was certain to follow. Neither she nor the Sassenach could risk such an event, their king’s ire falling on them both, were they to survive. Yet, in the end, the clan Morgan was bound to suffer the worst of it. For by James’s own hand, the Sassenach had been appointed her guardian, and she was expected to obey him. There was no way around it. She must comply.
Slowly Chandra moved to the spot that he’d indicated. The spark of defiance flickered in her eyes. “I obey you only to avoid trouble.”
His stare was frigid. “I’m afraid it is too late for that.” He watched for a reaction; her chin tipped higher, nothing more. Stubborn, she was. And foolish, Aleck decided. For despite his calm appearance, his temper was simmering. “You know why I’ve sent for you, don’t you?”
Chandra felt her knees quiver. Why didn’t she just confess the truth and take her punishment, whatever it was? “I have not the ability to know what is in your mind,” she said evenly, evading his question as best she could.
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