“Our laird sent me to fetch you to the bailey. A mounted party approaches the gates. We assume it is your father. Alexander thought you would want to be there to greet him upon his arrival.”
At last!
Peter pushed past the warrior sent to escort him. Him and the filthy beast that was always at his side. A creature such as that would never be allowed inside the halls of the Gordon keep. Another clue as to the low character of the MacKillican louts. No wonder they were so easy to fool.
All such thought fled his mind as he hurried out of the keep and toward the gates. This was the moment he’d waited for, his moment of triumph. The moment he’d be able to finally show his father that he was the son with the intellect and bravery to lead their clan in the old man’s stead. He was the son who should be chosen to succeed his father as leader of their clan.
He held his ground, forcing himself not to twitch with excitement as the grinding of metal on stone signaled the portcullis slowly sliding open. A moment later, when the horsemen came into view, the excitement he’d felt died a quiet death.
Instead of his father, his older brother John rode at the head of the Gordon contingent.
The young laird of the MacKillicans, Alexander, greeted John and the others as they dismounted, giving Peter a much-needed moment to collect his wits. He wasn’t sure what fresh torment his father had decided upon for him, but whatever it was, he was ready for it. He strode forward and took his brother’s arm, urging him away from the others.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice sounding much more petulant than he’d intended.
“Interesting question, little brother,” John responded, his eyes hard and emotionless. “That’s exactly the same question Father sent me to ask of you after yer man arrived with that ridiculous story about a betrothal of some sort. What’s going on here?”
A moment of panic clutched at Peter’s throat, but only a moment. He had no need to fear his brother’s disapproval. The plan he followed was perhaps the best he’d ever hit upon in the whole of his life.
“Just you wait, John. You’ll see. You and Father both. I’ve come up with an idea that canna fail this time.”
Thanks to his having intercepted the rider the MacKillican had sent before he’d reached the Gordon laird.
“What’s all this about Father having arranged a betrothal to a Shaw? He knows of no such arrangement.”
“But that’s the beauty of all of this,” Peter said, unable to keep the sheer excitement out of his voice. “We know there’s no such arrangement. But the angels themselves dropped this situation into my lap. Before this is over, we’ll add half the MacKillican lands to our own. I’ll wed the Shaw woman and the MacKillican will be forced to provide her dowry or face the wrath of the Gordon might—”
“We’ve no desire for a war between the clans,” John interrupted. “Father has made that absolutely clear. We’ve neither the men nor the silver to spare, no’ with a larger battle looming large in our future.”
How could his father ever have chosen John over him? John, whose shortsightedness could well cost them all that he had worked so hard to achieve.
“But we’ll no’ actually have to go to war with the MacKillican, you fool. We need only to suggest the possibility. Their laird is young and untested. He’ll give us what we want without the need for a single battle. All you have to do is to keep yer teeth together and no’ go about unraveling the story I’ve worked to build here. Can you manage that one little thing for me, do you think?”
The next few moments passed in heavy silence as John simply stared at him, that all-too-familiar expression of doubt and disappointment clouding his brother’s eyes.
“Aye, I can manage that, little brother. I’ll no’ interfere with what yer doing here.” John turned from him to join his men who waited with the MacKillican laird, but stopped after only a few steps to face him again. “But be warned, Peter. I’ll no’ allow our clan to be dragged into any conflict. That’s word straight from our father. If you attempt to go there, I’ll cut you off at the knee as if we shared not a single drop of blood. You’ve no’ the authority to speak on behalf of the clan, and I willna hesitate to say as much if you go too far. Do you understand?”
Peter returned his brother’s glare, furious at such demeaning treatment.
“Answer me,” John demanded. “I’d hear the words from yer own lips. Do you understand?”
“I do,” Peter answered through clenched teeth, bile building in the back of his throat.
Always they treated him like some useless burden upon the family. Well, not after this they wouldn’t. He’d show them. He’d show them all. And after he returned to the Gordon stronghold with ownership of half the MacKillican lands to present to his father, he’d see to it that John was the one on the cowering end of the stick.
Schooling all emotion from his face, Peter made his way to the small knot of men waiting around the MacKillican laird.
“Now that my brother has arrived, representing our father,” he said, pausing to bite back the irritation at once again having to play servant to his brother before he could continue. “Now, perhaps, we can finalize the arrangements and my bride and I can be on our way home.”
Home, to the Gordon stronghold, where he could, at last, claim all the glory he was rightfully due.
* * *
Annie brushed a hair from the old laird’s cheek as he slept, noting with satisfaction how pink and healthy the skin looked. She straightened the blankets around him, perhaps a bit more forcefully than absolutely necessary, wondering if he truly slept, or if he only pretended to as he had that night when Alex had come to visit.
“Paranoia now, on top of everything else,” she muttered as she stepped away from his bedside to take a seat by the fireplace.
She really needed to get a grip on her emotions, now more than ever before. But with this Peter Gordon person roaming the castle grounds, waiting to claim her as his bride, and her inability to escape back to her own time, emotional stability wasn’t the easiest thing to come by. Add on top of that this newfound rash of feelings she’d developed for Alex and, well, paranoia just might be the least of her problems.
The bedchamber door opened and Lissa hurried inside, her face damp with perspiration and bright pink.
“Have you been up on the parapets again?” Annie asked, smiling in spite of herself.
Though it was beyond Annie to understand how her friend could find solace and joy in hanging out on the very top of the keep, she accepted it. But in the heat of the day? How many times had she told Lissa that redheads and hot summer sun didn’t mix? Sunscreen wouldn’t be invented for centuries, but that didn’t mean that skin cancer wouldn’t still be a problem, even if no one in this time knew what it was.
“Where I’ve been is of no matter.” Lissa had obviously hurried down the stairs, still trying to catch her breath as she grabbed Annie’s hand to pull her to her feet. “For now, we need to hurry. The Gordons have just entered the courtyard. Alex went out to meet them and they’re all headed into the keep–to the great hall, is my guess.”
The Gordons had arrived. This was it. Her fate was on the line.
Annie resisted Lissa’s attempt to get her up off her seat. How could she stand right now with her stomach dropping to her feet?
“I don’t know if I can…” Her breath caught in her throat as she met Lissa’s gaze. “You know as well as I do what they’re here for.”
“What they’re here for is of no matter,” Lissa said, dropping to her knees at Annie’s side. “You’ve got nothing to fear, Annie. Alex told you himself he’d no’ let that nasty Peter Gordon take you away, aye?”
Annie could only nod. When she’d returned from her failed attempt at finding a way home in the arbor two days ago, she’d told Lissa everything that had happened.
Well, not quite everything. Almost everything. She might have left out a few bits, like the part about the soul-searing kisses she’d shared with Alex. Kisse
s that could easily have turned into so much more.
“Then yer safe enough from these people. Alex cares for you, Annie, and you care for him. He willna allow them to take you away. No’ now that he’s given you his word upon it.”
“I never said I had any special feelings for your brother.”
Why she felt the need to take exception to those feelings was beyond her. Maybe because those feelings were ones she’d done her best to deny to herself for the past two days. Maybe because admitting special feelings for Alex would mean admitting more than that.
“Pfft,” Lissa dismissed, rising to her feet. “As if you’ve a need to say the words aloud. Any fool with two working eyes can tell that you care for him, aye? And him for you. Now come on with you. You’ve no call to cower up here. And doona even think to use Da as an excuse to remain where you are. He’ll be fine until we return.”
Annie allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, and followed along behind her friend out of the room and down the hallway. Lissa was probably right. It would be better to see with her own eyes what was happening rather than hide in the old laird’s chamber and imagine the worst taking place in the big room beneath her feet.
When she turned toward the main staircase, Lissa pulled her away, leading her instead down the back way so that they passed through the kitchens to reach a small door on the back side of the great hall. With a cautionary finger to her lips, Lissa led the way through the door and into an area the kitchen staff used to stage the food before passing through the next opening to serve tables at mealtime. It was easy enough from this vantage to see and hear all that occurred without being seen.
From Lissa’s ease in reaching the spot, Annie suspected the young woman had used it often.
Out in the great hall, Alex had taken the laird’s seat. Finn and Jamesy stood on one side, while Alex’s brothers stood on his other side. There was little doubt that this meeting was viewed as a formal procedure.
That alone was enough to tighten the knot in Annie’s stomach. In spite of Lissa’s reassurances and Alex having given his word, if it came down to a matter of choosing between her and the safety of his people, Alex would have no choice. His responsibility to his clan would have to come first.
“Well?” Peter’s voice rang out. “You’ve delayed as long as you can, MacKillican. You insisted on our laird’s confirmation of the agreement between Gordon and Shaw, and now, with my brother’s arrival, you have it. I’d have my bride and title to the land that you must provide as her dowry to maintain the peace between our clans.”
This was the moment Annie had feared. Alex would have no choice but to hand her over to Peter Gordon. She reached out and locked her fingers around Lissa’s, whose squeeze of reassurance went almost unnoticed.
“I’ve still a question or two for yer laird,” Alex said. “Or for the one who represents him. I’d know who were the parties to the original negotiation of this union?”
“The lairds themselves, of course,” Peter replied. “My father and the father of the Shaw woman.”
Alex nodded, seeming to consider how to reply to the words before he spoke. “And the MacKillican laird? Would it no’ have been necessary for our laird to have been a party to such a negotiation? After all, you claim that we’re obligated to make good on the dowry. I’d think our laird would have been included in any such negotiation and I can assure you, I was never a party to such talks.”
“Of course you were no’ included. These men met years in the past,” Peter said, clearly dismissing Alex’s objection. “I can only assume that yer father agreed to it, since the bond was indeed struck. According to the terms set, we are here now to claim what is rightfully our due.”
“Impostor!” a voice boomed from the entrance of the great hall. “You have no rightful claim upon anything.”
Lissa gasped as Annie tried in vain to see past the crowd of people to the entrance. With all the people who had entered the great hall, she could not tell who her temporary savior might be.
“And who are you?” Peter demanded. “That you think to upset these fragile negotiations between myself and the MacKillican laird. Negotiations, I remind everyone present, that determine whether or not our clans will meet upon the field of battle.”
It was Annie’s turn to gasp when the unknown speaker pushed through the crowd to make his way to Alex’s side.
“I am Alexander, true laird of the MacKillican. Though my son has done a worthy job of standing in my stead, I am now returned.”
“It matters not to the House of Gordon who sits as laird of the MacKillican,” Peter blustered. “Our claim remains. A betrothal was arranged and a dowry must be provided.”
Alex had risen to his feet as his father approached. He stepped to one side of the chair, allowing his father to claim his seat. The elder MacKillican, however, remained on his feet.
“There will be no negotiations, young Gordon, and definitely no dowry.” Alexander held up a hand to silence the babbled bluster from Peter. “By what right do I deny you, you want to know? By the right of a man who knows the truth. And the truth of the matter is that I am the one who carried out negotiations with the father of Analise Shaw. I have an agreement to join our peoples through the marriage of his eldest daughter to my eldest son. Analise Shaw was sent here to wed my son and heir, Alexander, and for no other reason. Anyone who claims otherwise does no’ speak the truth.”
“This is preposterous!” Peter all but screamed, the veins in his neck straining like taut cords.
“Indeed it is,” Alexander agreed. “Preposterous that the Gordons would sink to an illegitimate attempt at a land grab such as this. In all the years I’ve known Malcolm, he’s ever been difficult, but never deceitful. Be warned, young Gordon, if it’s a war yer father wants, it’s a war he’ll have.”
“No!” The man at Peter’s side stepped forward, elbowing Peter back. “I’ve had quite enough of this travesty. I am John, eldest son of Malcolm of the House of Gordon. My brother has no’ the authority to speak for our father or for our clan. I do. The Gordons have no wish to meet the MacKillican in battle. I’ve been sent here in my father’s stead to give you his assurance of this. I also extend his apologies for any offense my brother might have caused during his stay.”
“No apologies required, John, son of Malcolm. And no offense taken.” Alexander at last lowered himself into the seat Alex had vacated. “I’d invite you and yer brother to stay with us to celebrate the wedding of my son and Analise. The celebration had to be postponed because I was taken to my bed with illness. But now, thanks to the loving care provided by my new daughter, I am well and back to myself, so the wedding will proceed as originally intended.”
“Our thanks for yer understanding and for yer kind invitation,” John said. “Please allow me to offer congratulations on behalf of my entire clan. Under the circumstances, and with yer permission, of course, we’ll be taking our leave now. I am sure, however, that our father will be happy to attend the celebration.”
“Wonderful,” Alexander said, acknowledging John’s bow with a dip of his head. “Carry my regards to yer father, aye? And tell him we await his arrival with pleasure.”
“Ow,” Lissa hissed, prying her hand from Annie’s grip. “Yer crushing me. Come on. We should go before we’re found out. I’d suppose they’ll be sending someone to look for you soon.”
“Okay,” Annie whispered, following Lissa back through the kitchen and to the stairs, her head abuzz with an entirely new set of worries that had nothing to do with their being caught eavesdropping.
She’d seen Alex’s face when his father had announced that they were to wed. She’d seen the stricken look of surprise before he’d recovered himself and fixed his emotionless mask back in place.
There was no question that he’d been as taken aback as she was, both by his father’s appearance in the great hall and by the announcement of his own betrothal to her. Now she was left only to wonder whether he greeted the news with pleasure or dismay.
* * *
Shock held Alex upright, though his knees felt as weak as those of a newborn lamb. Beside him, his father sat in his traditional seat, hale and hearty, commanding the room as he always had. Alex couldn’t be sure which had stunned him more, his father’s arrival in hall, sounding strong and back to his old self, or the announcement that he was to wed Annie.
Not that there was anything wrong with marrying Annie. Or that he could think of anyone he’d rather marry. It was only that Alex’s plans for his future hadn’t included marriage to anyone right now.
Surely there was some mistake. His father had never made mention of any betrothal for him. A more likely explanation was that his father’s announcement was only a trick to set aside the Gordon claim upon MacKillican lands.
Yes, that had to be it. For the first time since his father’s declaration, Alex’s heartbeat slowed to normal and he was able to take a deep breath.
How his father had learned of any of this from his sickbed was a complete mystery, but one he would have resolved as soon as their Gordon guests had taken their leave.
Alex hadn’t long to wait.
As the Gordon contingent filed out of the great hall, Alexander rose to his feet to accept the happy embraces of each of his sons. After a moment with each of them, his gaze shifted to Alex.
“I’d have the hall cleared,” he said. “All but you, Alex. We’ve much to discuss.”
Alex couldn’t agree more.
“It’s good to have you back to yerself, Da,” Alex said as the last man closed the door behind him. “Good to have the rightful laird back in charge again. You arrived just in time with a perfect solution to the dilemma we faced with the Gordons, even though, obviously, yer solution was all invented for their benefit.”
“Invented, you say?” his father said, a look of confusion wrinkling his brow. “I think no’.”
Alex’s chest tightened as he stared into his father’s eyes. “You canna seriously expect me to wed Annie. We both know the story you gave to the Gordons of yer agreement with her father is only that. A story. You know nothing of this woman.”
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