An Outcast's Wish (Highland Heartbeats Book 3)

by Aileen Adams

  “Patrick, enough!”

  And behind that man, much to the surprise of everyone in the room, appeared Clyde McGregor.

  Jake immediately lunged toward Clyde, ready to do bodily damage.

  “Jake!” Phillip spoke sharply, speared a glance at Maccay and gestured with his chin.

  Maccay quickly stepped in front of Jake, only diverting him for a second, but it was enough. Hands balled into fists, he glared his hatred at the McGregor while the heavyset man roared with anger.

  “You kidnapped my daughters! I’ll have your neck for this!”

  Maccay, trying to keep one eye on Jake, the other warily on the blustering newcomer and the McGregor, quickly glanced at Phillip as he stepped forward, hands raised, his features calm. For the moment at least, there would be no bloodshed. Not in the manor house.

  Maccay turned once again toward their unwelcome visitors but then noticed the startled look on Clyde McGregors face.

  Clyde stared beyond Jake.

  Maccay glanced over his shoulder to find Alis frozen in the doorway leading to the kitchen area, watching the goings-on with wide eyes.

  The sound of Clyde McGregors shout filled the room and reverberated against the walls.

  “Mairi, what in the bloody blazes are you doin’ ‘ere?”

  To a man, every person in the room froze, all eyes turned to Alis.

  Confused, Maccay could only stare.

  Alis stood in the doorway, eyes wide as that of a frightened doe. And then he realized.

  “Och, this can’t be happening,” Jake muttered.

  Phillip shifted his gaze between Alis and Clyde McGregor, eyebrows lowered.

  Maccay swallowed, his heart thumping hard in his chest.

  “Who is she to you?” Phillip asked, his voice deceptively soft.

  Clyde tugged his gaze from Alis and turned to Phillip. Straightening his shoulders and lifting his chin, he answered. “Surely you know her. That’s Mairi McGregor, cousin of mine and niece to the laird of the McGregor clan!”

  16

  After a moment of stunned silence, gasps of surprise, swearing and the resumption of the belligerent accusations erupted.

  The ruddy-cheeked man shouted at Phillip, so angry that spittle flew from his lips.

  His companion reached for his arm, trying to calm him, but he shook it off.

  Alis stood frozen to the spot, heart pounding, her mouth so dry she couldn’t work up enough spit to swallow if she wanted to. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the man staring at her as if they were the only two in the room.

  Long, reddish brown hair fell to his shoulders, cheeks stubbed with several days’ growth of beard, a little redder than his hair. A raised, pinkish-looking scar on one side of this forehead, extending from his hairline down to his eyebrow, cutting it in half. And those eyes—cold, hard, cruel.

  No mistaking his emotions when he saw her. Chin lifted, he maintained eye contact, frowning with disdain.

  At that moment, she realized. That man recognized her.

  The McGregor they called him. Enemy clan?

  She glanced at Maccay and noted his tight jaw, his hands balled into fists at the clansman, but she also thought she saw his head cock to the side, his gaze darting between the two of them.

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  Whatever affection she had seen in Maccay’s eyes moments earlier wasn’t there anymore. Now, he just looked confused, likely as stunned as she.

  Patrick was blocked from any further advance on the Duncan laird by Jake’s stiff arm, his glower frightening to behold. Sarah and Heather’s stepfather stared down at Jake’s arm and stopped moving.

  The law man, perhaps a sheriff from their home county, stood close by, trying to calm Patrick while Phillip stood, feet spread, arms now crossed over his chest staring at him. His face displayed no emotion, but Alis saw the stiff neck, the throbbing of a vein there.

  Maccay stood slightly hunched, arms to his sides, massive hands balled into fists, ready to defend or strike. The glare he gave the McGregor sent a shiver through her.

  Behind the McGregor stood another man, a companion for sure, watching all of it with a grin of amusement.

  Maccay moved close to Jake, one hand on his shoulder, back turned toward her now, carefully watching the interlopers.

  Phillip said something to Maccay. The moment he turned his attention from the McGregor, his eyes turned toward her again. He took a step toward her.

  Her heart caught in her chest and she blinked, not sure what to do. Run or stay?

  He knew her. He had called her Mairi. He couldn’t be mistaken, could he? No, he had said her name the moment he laid eyes on her. Was she… was she a McGregor? An enemy to the Duncans? If so, why did no one come looking for her? Had no one even noticed she was gone?

  By the time those thoughts ran through her brain, the man had taken several steps forward and grabbed her arm.

  The snake-like move startled her and she squeaked a mewl of startled fear.

  She tried to tug her arm from his grasp, her heart pounding now. She didn’t want to go anywhere with this mean-looking brute of a man. She clutched the side of the doorway with one hand, planted her feet, and pulled against him just as Maccay turned toward her in response to her cry of fear.

  The McGregor ignored him, his eyes wide with surprise at her refusal to come with him, but only for an instant. The snarl returned. Nothing about him triggered any memory.

  His grip tightened and slid down to her wrist, his hand easily encompassing it in an iron grip.

  “You’re coming with me, lass!”

  “No! I don’t want to go anywhere with you. I don’t know you!”

  “Don’t be playing games with me, Mairi. You’re coming—”

  “Let her go.”

  Maccay approached, one hand resting on the hilt of the knife tucked into his waistband, the other reaching for Alis.

  She glanced between the two, saw their angry expressions as they glared at one another.

  Maccay was a full head shorter than the McGregor and she feared for his safety, even in the midst of the other clan members in the great hall. He didn’t flinch.

  “I said let her go.”

  Maccay stepped in front of her and wrapped his arm around her waist. “She’ll not be going anywhere just yet.”

  “She’s a McGregor!” Clyde fumed. “What is she doing here?”

  Before Phillip could respond, Patrick MacDonald shouted for Sarah and Heather.

  Jake took a threatening step toward Patrick, hands held at his sides, but ready to strike at a moment’s notice. The sheriff desperately tried to calm the increasingly belligerent Patrick as Hugh took his stand at the bottom of the stairs, just in case.

  No unwelcome visitor would get past Hugh.

  In seconds, the great hall was filled with the sound of shouting as two separate groups argued with one another.

  To Alis’ surprise, the laird stood calmly, arms still crossed over his chest, watching MacDonald and the sheriff, for the moment ignoring the McGregor and his companion, knowing that Maccay had his eye on both of them.

  Until the very moment that Patrick took a step toward the stairs. In a flash of movement, Phillip reached for him, grabbing a handful of his shirt.

  “You have been given safety here, in this room, but this room only. Do not take another step.”

  “You kidnapped my daughters!”

  “Nae, he did not!” Jake argued.

  Patrick glared at the two of them, paying the others no mind. “You highland scavengers, you’re nothing but wild animals. I’ve come for what’s rightfully mine!”

  “You will do no such thing!”

  Silence fell over the room at the sound of the female voice.

  Even Clyde and Maccay broke their glares long enough to glance upward.

  Sarah stood midway down the stairs, arms crossed over her chest.

  Alis couldn’t help but feel an intense surge of admiration for the woman’s bravery.
Did nothing intimidate her? She quickly glanced at her stepfather, noticed his eyes widen with surprise as his gaze swept over her lovely visage, and then focused on her swollen belly.

  His mouth turned down in disgust.

  Alis thought he might spit.

  “Don’t even think it,” Phillip growled, taking a step toward him.

  “Enough of this,” the sheriff said. “Let us settle this like gentlemen.”

  “There are no gentleman here,” Patrick snapped. “I want what’s mine.” He pointed at the stairs. “You kidnapped her! You forced her up here, and you forced her to… to bear your bastard child!”

  “He did no such thing, Patrick MacDonald,” Sarah retorted. “He is my husband and I will not be going with you.”

  Patrick sputtered and then turned to glare once more at Phillip.

  A different female voice interrupted his curses. “Nor will I.”

  Another gasp of surprise from Patrick MacDonald as Heather came down the stairs to stand next to her sister.

  Patrick stared at his two stepdaughters in dismay before he once again glared at Phillip and then Jake. “I’ll have your heads for this.”

  “Heather is my wife now,” Jake said, barely choking back his fury. “You no longer have any rights to her.”

  “You kidnapped them—”

  “No, they did not,” Sarah interrupted again, her voice raised and firm. “My sister and I have married into the Duncan clan of our own free will.”

  Patrick turned toward the sheriff, who seemingly flustered and uncomfortable.

  Because everyone seemed distracted by the drama playing out before them, Alis took the opportunity to forcefully jerk her hand from Clyde’s grasp.

  Surprised, he turned toward her, but she had already dashed through the doorway, heart pounding, terrified, eyes wide with panic as she stared at Cook, staring back at her.

  She clapped her hands over her mouth to prevent the scream that threatened to erupt from her throat.

  Cook gestured for her to leave through the door.

  Alis offered a jerky nod of thanks and brushed past her as the cook picked up a cleaver before turning back to the doorway leading to the great hall.

  Blinking back tears, she raced from the manor house.

  She didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what was happening in the great hall, but she ran behind the house and past the armory to Maccay’s home.

  As she ran, she noticed the Duncan clansmen arming themselves and heading toward the manor house, prepared for any orders that might come.

  She reached Maccay’s door, opened it, and then slammed it shut behind her, leaning against it as tears streamed from her eyes. Her legs shook with fear, her heart pounded, and she tightly clasped her hands around her waist, trying to still her trembling. Despair wracked her shoulders, her heart racing so fast she thought it might explode.

  She tried to stop her crying and held her breath, gulping down her choking sobs, resisting the urge to flee into the depths of the woods once again.

  Things had gone from bad to worse. She—

  A heavy thud on the door prompted her to scream.

  She leapt away from it, then quickly spun around and braced her hands against it, pushing it shut as someone from the other side tried to push it open.

  No! She wasn’t going anywhere with that man—

  “Alis! Alis, it’s me, Maccay. Let me in!”

  Trembling with relief, Alis stepped back from the door and stood in the middle of the room, her emotions awash with pain, her sense of betrayal by Maccay, the arrival of the McGregor, and terror, so many emotions at once, threatening to buckle her knees.

  “Alis—”

  Anger surged. “I’m not Alis!” she choked out. “My name is Mairi, and… and apparently, I belong to an enemy clan—” she took a step back, shaking her head. “I won’t be going with him. I won’t!”

  “It’s all right, Alis… Mairi…” Maccay said, standing in front of the closed door, one hand extended in an attempt to calm her. “You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to.”

  Warm tears filled her eyes again. “Where am I supposed to go? You think I’m a spy! You think—”

  Maccay closed the distance between them in two steps and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

  She nestled herself against his warm body and for a second, a brief second, she leaned into him, welcoming his strength, his comfort, and that warmth. But then everything came flooding back, ruining it.

  She pushed herself away and backed toward the table, hand extended and finger pointed. “You stay right there, Maccay. I… I’m not ready for this. For any of it!” She began to tremble again, and a wave of abject loneliness surged through her. “You… you think I’m a spy, a—” She choked back a pained cry from the stab of pain that originated from her heart.

  She couldn’t help the angry bitterness that swept through her. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to fear this abject fear, this sense of isolation, let alone experience this sudden lack of confidence.

  “Alis, it’s going to be all right—”

  “No, it’s not!” she cried. “You heard him. I’m the niece of the McGregor laird! You’ve already told me that the McGregor and Duncan clans are enemies.” She lifted her hands, then dropped him down to her sides. “What am I supposed to do?” She shook her head, angrily swiping at the tears staining her cheeks. “I don’t know them. I don’t know that man, I don’t know anything about—”

  Maccay stepped toward her, but she was too tired, emotionally at least, to fight him off. Once again, he wrapped his arms around her, one hand gently pressing her head against his shoulder. She heard the thudding of his heart as he awkwardly patted her shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, Alis,” he said, now stroking her hair. “I won’t let them take you. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I know you’re very angry with me at the moment, and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

  She lifted her head and saw him gazing down at her.

  “The past is the past, Alis—”

  “It’s Mairi.”

  He offered a small smile. “You might be Mairi McGregor but to me you’ll always be Alis.”

  He brushed the hair from her face and with the pad of his thumb, wiped away her tears.

  When his thumb lingered on the bottom of her cheek, so close to her lips, she felt her heart crumple.

  She wanted to forgive him, but she didn’t know… could she trust him? Could she trust anybody?

  Then his lips were pressed against hers, as if attempting to prove to her that he meant what he said. Warm, soft, filled with tenderness.

  She hesitated only a brief moment and then wrapped her arms around his neck as she returned the kiss.

  For these precious moments at least, she didn’t have to be afraid. She could revel in this momentary world of peace, comfort, and security. What would happen in the next hour, or tomorrow was pushed to the back of her mind. She would take this moment and treasure it.

  The pressure of his lips increased and she responded in kind, her arms tightening around his waist while his pulled her even closer. In this moment, she realized how deep her affection for him had grown. Yes, he had hurt her, but she didn’t believe he had done so deliberately. She believed that his feelings for her were real.

  At that moment, she wished that she could stay here forever, with Maccay and—

  A loud pounding on the door jolted her back to awareness.

  With a startled gasp, she pulled out of Maccay’s grasp, shaking her head in denial.

  She flinched, her muscles tense, fighting back the scream of denial that built deep in her chest. At that moment, her legs almost buckled. She saw black spots—

  “Maccay. It’s Phillip. I need you and Alis… Mairi to come out here.”

  Alis felt the blood drain from her face as she stared up at Maccay, eyes wide. “Don’t let them take me,” sh
e choked. “Please, Maccay, don’t let them take me.”

  Maccay heaved a heavy sigh, then bade Alis wait while he stepped to the door and opened it only a little bit, blocking the door with his body.

  Alis waited, heart pounding as the laird spoke.

  “Where’s Alis?”

  “She’s here,” Maccay said, opening the door little wider.

  The laird stepped through, alone, and Maccay closed the door, standing with his back to it.

  Alis stared at Phillip, unable to tell what he was thinking. His expression emotionless, he eyed her, then glanced at Maccay, then turned back to her.

  “Are you all right?”

  She hadn’t expected that question, but offered a jerky nod. “You’re not going to make me go with him, are you?” She cringed at the sound of her trembling voice.

  Phillip said nothing for a moment, then sighed. “Clyde McGregor claims that you are the niece of Angus McGregor, laird of the McGregor clan. If these claims are true, I will have no right to keep you here.”

  “Even if I don’t want to go with them?”

  Phillip offered a small shrug. “Unfortunately, Alis… Mairi, you don’t have any choice in the matter. If you belong to the McGregors—”

  “I don’t belong to anyone!” she protested. “This isn’t right! I don’t want to go with them! I don’t know them, I don’t remember anything about them, I don’t—”

  “Alis. The McGregors and the Duncans have been enemies for generations. Even if you chose to stay with us here of your own free will, the McGregors don’t have to honor your request. You’re just a woman.”

  Tears filled her eyes again. This wasn’t fair!

  “I think some questions need to be answered,” Maccay said.

  Phillip nodded.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, a hint of hope in her voice.

  Phillip didn’t answer the question. He nodded at Maccay. “It might give us some time.”

  Alis didn’t understand what they were talking about, but anything that would give her a chance to stay here with the Duncans was better than having to be forcefully taken by that other clan, back to a place she didn’t remember, know, or want to know.

  “Clyde and his companion have ridden a short distance to the west to make camp for the night. Tomorrow, they will return for Alis. When they do, I will have questions for them. If I don’t like their answers, we will decide then what is to be done with you.”