And that was a problem she didn’t need.
“Lass, ye’re squeezing the air out of me.”
“Oh.” Maggie loosened her hold on MacLean’s waist. “My apologies.”
“Ye seem to be more and more tense, the closer we get to yer home.”
His comment was couched more like a question, but she didn’t want to answer it because she didn’t know how to explain why she both did and didn’t want to go home.
Evan had raised her. He’d taught her to be the woman she was: a woman who could wield a sword and drink and cuss like a Highland warrior. He’d loved her like a parent and tolerated her like a sibling, and that was why she’d been so hurt and shocked when he’d announced, with no warning whatsoever, that he had found a husband for her. The ensuing row would go into the Sinclair history books, and it had ended with her running off to Culloden to prove to her brother that she didn’t need a man to take care of her.
Their last words to each other had not been kind. She deeply regretted them and wished a thousand times that she could take them back, but she hadn’t seen her brother since then to ask for his forgiveness, and on top of that, she still did not want to wed.
Late in the morning she caught her first glimpse of the Sinclair holding. Her home. It was a strange amalgamation of centuries of Sinclair leaders adding on here and there for defensive purposes and aesthetic reasons. It was surrounded by bailey walls that could be used for defense but appeared more ornamental than functional. It had windows up high but none down low. It sat on a hill, surrounded by a swath of lush grass that gave way to thick trees farther from the castle.
Maggie’s heart gave a little lurch and the homesickness that she’d managed to bury came rushing back. Her eyes filled with stupid sentimental tears and she blinked them away. This was her only home, the place where she’d grown up, where she was accepted for her eccentric ways. It was her comfort and her joy and her sanctuary. That Evan wanted her to leave here and go with a stranger to form another life was frightening. She just hoped that he had forgotten, or at least put aside, the ridiculous idea that she needed to wed.
And that he would forgive her for running away.
MacLean reined their mount to a stop and dismounted.
“What are ye doing?” Maggie demanded. All those times she had to force him to stop, and they were this close, and he wanted to stop now.
He looked up at her. “Come down here.”
“Nae. We’re so close. We can keep going.”
“And ye will in just a moment.”
She sighed and slipped off the horse to stand impatiently in front of him.
“I noticed ye were…edgy, the closer we got to yer home.”
“Edgy?” She made a noise that sounded like pshhh. “I do no’ know what ye’re talking about.”
“Why don’ ye want to go home?”
“I do want to go home.” She tried to keep her gaze on his but it was too much.
“Uh-huh.” His tone suggested he didn’t believe her at all. “I do no’ like being lied to.”
Her shoulders came back in indignation. “I’m no’ lying.”
“Are ye afraid of yer brother?”
“Oh, this is ridiculous. Can we please be on our way now?”
“I need to know that when I leave, ye’ll be safe.”
“Leave?” Why did it feel like all her breath was suddenly gone?
“Aye, lass. This is the end for me. Ye can certainly make yer own way to yer brother’s home from here. It’s time for me to move on.”
“No,” she whispered, hating the idea of parting with him. She’d known that he would leave when he dropped her off at her home, but she’d thought…
She didn’t really know what she’d thought. That he would stay a while? That he would stay forever? That was ridiculous.
“Are ye afraid of yer brother?” he asked again, softly this time.
“No, of course no’.” Evan would never hurt her physically. He’d never beaten her or locked her in her room. He’d never even berated her in front of others. It was his disappointment that she was more concerned about.
Colin gazed into her eyes as if seeking the truth. She tried to hold his gaze, truly she did, but she couldn’t.
“Speak the truth, lass.”
Her shoulders drooped. “I am speaking the truth. Evan will no’ hurt me.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Do ye have to leave now? Can ye no’ come down to the house and meet my brother?” Maybe if she brought Colin in with her, Evan’s anger would be diffused. Yes, she was aware that she was being a coward.
But Colin was shaking his head before she’d finished speaking, and her heart was sinking and breaking at the same time.
“I have things I must do,” he said softly as if he didn’t really want to do those things. Was he regretting leaving her as much as she was regretting him leaving? Or was that foolish hopefulness? He wasn’t the answer to her prayers. He wasn’t going to keep Evan from marrying her off to a stranger. She was a fool to think such a thing. Colin spending a few days in her brother’s home was going to change Evan’s mind.
“So this is it, then?” she asked. “We say our farewells here?”
She thought of all those nights they’d lain together in their cell, he on one end, she on the other. She remembered the beatings he’d taken and the hope in her chest when he’d opened that cell door and said that he would take her with him.
“This is the end.” He touched the tip of her nose and hastily drew his hand away. “Ye’re a fine warrior and I was glad to have ye at my back, Sinclair. I thank ye for staying with me during my fever.”
She scoffed to hide the tears pushing against the back of her eyes. “Ye were a terrible patient. Never wanting to drink the water I gave ye.”
He smiled and Maggie had to hold her breath because his smile made her feel funny inside. In a way she’d never experienced before.
“Goodbye, lass.”
Her chin trembled and there was aught she could do about it.
“Ach. The hell with it,” he said savagely as he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her toward him until she hit his chest with an oomph. And then he was kissing her. Hard. His lips covered hers and she was shocked into paralysis.
His tongue pushed at the seam of her lips. She opened them and his tongue swept in, invading. It was astonishing and intoxicating. Her body wanted to draw back in surprise, but his strong arms held her against his chest.
She should have been alerted to the noise behind her. In any other circumstance she would have been, but at the moment she was wholly occupied by Colin’s tongue inside her mouth, so she didn’t hear the four men crashing out of the trees.
Colin had just enough time to push her away but not enough time to unsheathe his broadsword before the three men jumped on him and he fell under the pile.
Maggie recognized the plaid of the Sinclairs and launched herself on the back of Gilroy, one of her brother’s best warriors. “Get off him,” she said between clenched teeth as she pulled on Gilroy’s hair so hard that she bent his head backward.
He growled and tossed her off. She landed on her arse and had to shake her head at the impact. She scrambled to her feet to wrap her arms around Gilroy’s waist and pull him backward. He stumbled a few paces before planting his feet. “Lass,” he ground out. “Leave me.”
“Nae,” she gasped. It was like moving a tree that had been planted in the ground. She’d fought against Gilroy for years. He was so much bigger than she was that the only way she could beat him was by being quick on her feet and fast with her reflexes. That wasn’t going to help her here.
She peered around his wide back to find MacLean on the ground, being pummeled by the other two. She let go of Gilroy to help MacLean, yanking on an arm here, a leg there. She grabbed someone’s hair and ended up with a fistful of it. But no matter what she did, she wasn’t moving them off MacLean.
“Stop,” she kept yelling, but no one paid her any mind. She beat on their backs.
She tried pulling their legs out from under them, but she’d fought with these men for years and knew she was a pesky fly to their brute strength.
The fight seemed to take forever, and all she heard was MacLean’s grunts every time a fist landed on him. Then MacLean was trussed up like a boar they’d hunted for dinner.
Maggie was pleased to see that Gilroy had an eye that was starting to swell shut, and Hubert was limping a little. Fitzroy had blood running down his cheek. MacLean had fought hard, but he was no match for three Sinclair men.
“Ye let him go, Gilroy Sinclair.” She spun around to face Gilroy with her hands on her hips. She only came to his elbows but he didn’t intimidate her. He moved her aside as he draped an unconscious MacLean on the back of his horse. “He did nothing to harm ye. Ye have no business beating him like that,” she said.
Gilroy hopped into the saddle in front of MacLean.
“Don’ ye go ignoring me, Gilroy.”
“Get up on yer mount, girl. Yer brother’s waiting for ye.”
That shut her up. Evan was waiting for her? Evan was alive? Silently, she mounted MacLean’s horse and Gilroy led the way. The two others fell in behind her.
The knot in her stomach that was the size of Pentland Firth grew bigger the closer they got to the Sinclair holding. She felt so many emotions that they were getting tangled up until she didn’t know what to think. Her brother was alive. Her relief at hearing that was enormous, but she was frightened by the welcome she would get from him. When she’d allowed herself to think about her homecoming, this was not what she’d imagined.
The five of them were a solemn lot. MacLean was unconscious and upside down on Gilroy’s horse. The expressions of Gilroy, Fitzroy, and Hubert spelled doom and gloom. They approached the gatehouse, and despite the knot in her stomach, her heart leaped at seeing the familiar yet formidable gate that protected her home.
Gilroy held up his hand in greeting to the constable, who allowed them through the entrance. They rode in silence with only the hollow sound of the horses’ hooves ringing through the dim tunnel. And then they were on the other side of the portcullis and through the double set of timber doors.
Entering the courtyard on so many waves of guilt and fear of the unknown was disconcerting. She wished she could turn around and start all over again, but that was impossible, so she entered with her back straight, one eye on the door to the castle and the other on MacLean, who was lying still, although she suspected he was coming back to life.
They stopped in the middle of the courtyard. Maggie slid off her horse while Gilroy manhandled MacLean to the ground and stood him on his feet. MacLean listed to the side but remained upright and looking around. One eye was badly bruised and almost swollen shut. His cheek was scraped. His hair was standing on end. His knee was bloody.
And he was mad as hell.
He glared at her with his one good eye as if it were her fault they were in this predicament. Maggie held her hands out to the sides to say that she had nothing to do with this, but she doubted he believed her.
The large double doors of the gatehouse tunnel slammed shut behind them and Maggie jumped. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d closed the doors during the day. This wasn’t good.
People milling around the courtyard stopped to stare at her, and suddenly, the doors to the castle crashed open and Evan came striding out with the fiercest scowl she’d ever seen. And yet her blood raced to finally see him again, because for so long she’d feared she would die with their last hate-filled words ringing in her head.
Evan. Her brother. The man who had raised her after their parents died. The man who’d taught her to fight and curse and who’d bandaged her when she fell. She’d been so mad at him when she left to fight at Culloden, but seeing him now reminded her of just how much she loved him.
Maggie ran to him and jumped into his arms, just like she’d done hundreds of times when she was but a wee thing. He wrapped those strong, familiar arms around her, staggering back a few steps under her weight, and crushed her to him. Before she knew what she was about, tears were streaming down her cheeks and she was both laughing and crying, and she could have sworn he was crying, too.
“My God, Maggie. Where the hell have ye been these last weeks? We’ve been worried sick.” Evan pulled away to look her up and down. She wiped her eyes and shook her head, too overcome to speak.
Gilroy marched up and pulled Evan aside, and Maggie remembered MacLean. She spun around to find him watching her, his hands tied behind his back and a scowl twisting his lips. His eyes were cool and she couldn’t help but think of how hot they’d been right before he’d kissed her.
She’d kissed Colin MacLean. And she’d liked it.
Her first kiss ever, and she was powerfully glad that it had been him.
The longer Gilroy talked, the more Evan frowned, until his look was thunderous and it appeared he wanted to pull MacLean’s limbs from him.
“Evan,” Maggie said, taking a step toward her brother but with a backward glance at MacLean, who was standing tall and proud despite the bruises and cuts and his hands being tied.
“No’ now, lass.” Evan whispered something to Gilroy, who motioned to Fitzroy, who nodded and marched MacLean toward the prison cells attached to the gatehouse. MacLean was limping, and Maggie knew that he was still weak from the fever.
“Evan, ye have to let MacLean go. He’s—”
“We’ll speak about it in a moment,” Evan said as he walked away.
Maggie ran around him and stopped in front of him, bringing Evan to halt. “Ye have to listen to me, Evan. MacLean—”
Evan’s look went cold, his expression hardened, and his eyes flashed a warning that she couldn’t ignore.
Maggie took a step back and looked around. People in the courtyard were watching, and she realized her mistake. She’d questioned the chief’s decision in front of everyone. As much as she wanted to argue with him, now was not the time or place.
“I’ll meet with ye in the solar,” Evan said a little more softly but with steel in his voice. “Do no’ think to no’ be there.”
He marched away, leaving Maggie in the middle of the courtyard, frustrated and helpless. She glared at Gilroy. “What did ye tell him?” she demanded.
“Just the honest truth, lass.” And Gilroy walked away, following Evan.
Maggie entered the castle and walked through the great hall. They were between meals, so there weren’t many servants about, just a few girls carrying linens up to the bedchambers and one sweeping by the hearth. Maggie felt their stares. She kept her eyes on her shoes and put one foot in front of the other. Slinking into her home after being chastised by Evan and fearing for MacLean’s life after the fury she’d witnessed in Evan was not how she’d wanted to return home. What the hell had Gilroy said?
She entered the solar before her brother, collapsed into a chair, and scooted down until her butt was almost falling off and her legs were spread wide. She stared at her trousers, caked with all kinds of disgusting things she didn’t want to think about, while her eyes filled with useless tears. Evan was furious with her and MacLean was sitting in the dungeon and she had no idea how to fix any of it.
She heard a noise behind her and quickly swiped her wet eyes with the back of her dirty hand before twisting around. Then she returned to her slumped position. “Oh, it’s ye.”
For many years Maggie had led a good life. She’d liked who she was. She didn’t like wearing gowns and sitting before the fire to mend and sew and do all that nonsense. She’d rather be out in the lists, fighting with the men, or mucking out stalls, and Evan hadn’t minded any of that. He’d encouraged her wild ways and had been proud of the little warrior he’d helped create.
Until one day, that wasn’t the way of it; he’d started talking about how she needed to act like a lady. She’d been hurt and confused by this sudden change of heart.
Weeks later, she’d discovered why.
Innis.
Innis with t
he perfect blond hair and perfect blue eyes and perfect figure. She never cursed. She barely raised her voice. She could command the servants with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.
And Evan had fallen in love.
Maggie despised Innis.
Because from that moment on, all Maggie heard was “Innis this” and “Innis that.”
Suddenly, it wasn’t good to fight like a man or curse like a man.
Innis glided across the room to stand before Maggie. That was how Innis moved. She didn’t walk; she glided. It was a mystery how she did it.
“I’m glad to see ye,” Innis said in her infuriatingly soft way.
Maggie tucked her chin into her chest, knowing she was acting like a child but unable to stop herself. In her opinion, her idyllic life had ended when Innis had appeared.
“Are ye well?” Innis asked.
“Well enough,” Maggie said.
“Evan was worried.”
Maggie straightened until she was sitting a little more appropriately. “I suppose ye and my brother are married by now.”
Innis folded her hands in front of her. There was no condemnation in her eyes, nothing except concern, and that made Maggie feel like a horrible person. Innis was so damn…perfect.
“We thought about waiting, but when weeks passed and ye did no’ turn up…Well, we thought the worst. Evan was devastated.”
“No’ devastated enough, apparently.” So her brother had thought her dead and decided to marry. That hurt.
“He was beside himself,” Innis said, again with no condemnation. Did the woman even have a hateful thought in her head? “I’m glad ye’re here,” she said quietly. “Evan is relieved as well.”
“He did no’ sound like it.” Maggie chose to ignore the backbreaking hug Evan had given her and instead thought of the anger in his eyes.
“He’ll be angry for a bit, but trust me, he’s happy to see ye.”
Silence passed between them. Maggie had no idea what to say to this person who was now part of her family and so different that she couldn’t even begin to relate.
MacLean's Passion: A Highland Pride Novel Page 6