He’d wondered much the same. Given Graham always wanted to best him in all things and then became angry when he failed to do so, Lachlan suspected he would not have. “I kinnae say for certain what Graham would have done if the circumstances were reversed. I only did what I felt was right. I made a vow to keep my brother safe long ago, and I have tried my best to uphold it.”
Marion nodded. “I know of the vows your mother required each of you to make. Iain told me. I suspect, though, that your mother never intended for you to lose something precious in order to preserve Graham’s pride. And think upon this—Iain asked you to put your life at risk to help rescue me when I was being held captive in England. Did you hate him? Do you think he broke his vow to defend you?”
“Nay, but that’s different. Ye dunnae have my heart.” Marion gave him a mock frown, and he chuckled. “Ye ken what I mean. Ye have my heart as Iain’s wife and now as part of our family, but that’s different.”
She looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment. “I agree it is. But I’m not convinced Graham loves Bridgette. I think he wants her, for certain, but I think what drives that desire has to do with besting you.”
Lachlan frowned. “Ye’re wrong. I’ve nae made a single mention of any interest in Bridgette.”
She shrugged. “I did not say I had it perfectly solved. It’s a feeling in my gut.”
“Yer gut is wrong,” he growled, rejecting the thought that his brother would set out to win Bridgette because he suspected Lachlan was drawn to her.
Marion sighed. “Perchance.”
Certain he did not want to stand here for any more questions of the heart, Lachlan quickly said farewell and left Marion to her work. He decided to go to the stables to see about the new shoes he’d asked be put on his horse, and when he entered the courtyard, he spotted Bridgette teaching some young boys how to shoot.
Lachlan leaned against the stone wall and watched her. Her unbound red hair swung at the side of her face, hiding her expression, but she finally reached up and tucked it behind her ear. She wore the kindest smile, and it stole his breath. He ached to go to her, talk to her, touch her, simply be near her.
“What are ye doing?” Helena demanded, suddenly by his side.
He blinked, shocked that he had been so consumed with staring at Bridgette that he had not noticed Helena’s approach. “Preparing to train,” he lied.
She pressed her lips together in hard line. “And does that training involve staring at yer brother’s woman?”
“I was watching her training technique,” he ground out. His protective instinct flared within him. He had no doubt that Helena, who was likely used to men falling at her feet, had become jealous of Bridgette and was placing the blame on her for his lack of enthusiasm for joining with Helena herself. He had to do something to mollify Helena’s tender feelings before she did something to hurt Bridgette.
“Ye’re lying,” she accused, her lip curling. “I’ve tried to puzzle out why ye have nae taken what I have offered ye, and now I ken the problem is nae me but her.” Helena’s lower lip quivered, whether from anger or hurt he was not sure. He felt a terrible guilt, though. Perchance Helena had been given no choice in regard to pledging herself to him and what she had been ordered to do.
“Helena,” he started in a soothing tone. “It is nae that ye’re lacking in any way.”
Her chin tilted up in a defiant gesture. “It’s that ye’re pining for yer brother’s lass.”
“Nay,” he managed, though Helena was partially correct. He did want Bridgette, but she was not Graham’s lass.
“Yer denying it does nae make it false,” she snapped. “And I think ye ken Bridgette MacLean is lusting after ye. What is it about her that tempts ye, Lachlan? Is it her body? Her hair? Her eyes?”
All those things tempted him, but it was beyond anything physical. Her heart made her irresistible. “Ye dunnae ken of what ye speak,” he replied.
She gave a choked, desperate laugh, but then she shook her head as if remembering something, and a cold look swept over her face. “I wonder what Graham would say if I told him what I ken.”
Lachlan clutched her by the arms and drew her to him, barely resisting the urge to shake her. “There is nae a thing to tell him. Dunnae be jealous of Bridgette. It’s simply that ye and I, well…” He stumbled searching for the words to convince her. “We barely know each other.”
“Then change that,” she said, her eyes challenging, and before he could respond, she pressed her lips to his.
Disgust hit him hard, but he could not shove her away. He detached himself from emotion and returned the kiss quickly before setting her away. “Nae out here, lass. I prefer privacy.”
“Aye,” she agreed sweetly and held out her hand. “I see we have an audience.”
Lachlan swiftly turned his head toward where Bridgette and the children had been training, and his gut clenched as he looked into Bridgette’s agonized face. Every muscle in him twitched to go to her, reassure her, and explain. Instead, he stood still and watched as she turned and left the courtyard.
Helena took his hand. “Shall we make haste to yer bedchamber?”
“I kinnae,” he replied, reeling from the hurt he knew he had inadvertently caused Bridgette. “Iain has ordered me to train.”
Shooting him a disbelieving, exasperated look, Helena stomped off in such a fury that she collided with Barclay, Tormod’s youngest son. Lachlan watched as Barclay reached out to steady Helena. She smiled up at him, said something, and then continued on her way.
Lachlan waved Barclay over. When the lad, who was, as far as Lachlan could recall, just seventeen summers, making him more man than lad, stood in front of Lachlan, he spoke. “What did the woman Helena just say to ye?”
Barclay gave him a surprised look, which Lachlan understood. It was an odd question and likely the first one Lachlan had ever directed at Barclay. “She said thank ye,” Barclay replied.
“Stay away from Helena,” Lachlan ordered, realizing Barclay would likely think Lachlan was jealous, but so be it. He didn’t care how he appeared if it ensured Barclay had no more interaction with Helena. Lachlan could not imagine how Helena and Barclay would ever come to discuss the Fairy Flag, or the fact that Barclay’s family was the keeper of the flag, but it was not worth the risk.
“As ye wish,” Barclay replied in a voice underlaid with anger.
As Barclay departed, Lachlan bypassed the children and went down to the loch to train with the men. He needed a real fight to burn off the frustration that was mounting with every breath.
Twelve
Precisely one day before the potion was to be ready, the horn announcing the return of Graham and Cameron with the king rang throughout Dunvegan Castle. Bridgette inhaled a sharp, anxious breath as the blast of the horn sounded in her ears and, in her mind, likely heralded trouble. She lowered the bow and arrow she’d been about to release to show the boys once more the best way to ensure their shots flew true.
Across the courtyard, she searched the men to find Lachlan staring at her. Sweat glistened on his chest from the hours he’d spent training. Their gazes locked, and her blood soared as it always did with memories of his lips on her, hands on her, and hope that one day they would be together. They’d not been near each other in weeks, yet she always felt as if he were beside her.
Dark fear surged through her body like ice and chased away the warmth of what she felt for Lachlan. Graham was home. The time was upon her to tell him she could never be his. The seer’s prediction hammered at her. Would this choice make the prophecy come true or change it? She prayed it was the latter.
Bridgette put away her bow and arrow as the men and women around her surged excitedly toward the seagate stairs to welcome Graham and Cameron home—and no doubt to see King David, whose long absence and imprisonment made him the object of much curiosity. Interest stirred within her own breast. Was David kind and wise? Surely neither Iain nor her brother would follow the king—or have worked so tirele
ssly to gain his freedom—if he was not a just ruler.
Lachlan walked toward her with Marion and Iain. Lachlan’s eyes met hers, and she could feel his hunger burn her. Marion gave her a sympathetic look as she passed.
Bridgette’s gut tightened when she noticed that Helena was some steps behind Lachlan. As Helena walked by Bridgette, the woman glared at her but then smiled sweetly when Barclay fell into step beside her. Barclay nodded to Bridgette, which Bridgette returned with a lift of her hand while noting that Helena spoke with Barclay as if they knew each other. Suspicion nagged Bridgette, and she determined to mention what she’d seen to Iain, as speaking alone with Lachlan was impossible.
Angus paused in front of her and held out his arm. “Care to walk down with me, lass?” She nodded and linked her arm with his. The crowd of people around them was thick, so the progress down the seagate stairs was slow. They fell into line and moved along in companionable silence.
As they neared the last steps and made their way to the birlinn with the rest of the clan, Bridgette saw her brother Alex standing at the head of the vessel. A terrible feeling of foreboding swept over her and made her shiver. Had her brother come to Dunvegan merely to escort the king, or had he come for her? Graham stood beside her brother, along with a man who had to be King David.
For a moment, the king captured her attention. He had brown hair that barely touched his shoulders and a long, brown beard. He wore a rich red cloak, and he held himself with an air of absolute authority. He turned his head to speak to the man to his left, and Bridgette almost stumbled as her gaze fastened on Colin Campbell. She’d not seen him since he’d asked her to marry him. She’d hoped never to see the Scot again. Something about Colin had always left her feeling wary. Perchance it was how hard he was with his men or the disregard he showed to the servants at her brother’s castle whenever he had visited.
Or perchance it was how he had talked about his younger sister, Marsaili who Bridgette had never met. All Bridgette knew of the woman was that Colin said she had not been blessed with the looks Helena or their other sister Isobel had been blessed with and that Marsaili was a simpleton. When Bridgette had inquired if it had been an accident that made her so, Colin had told her no, that she had been born that way, a terrible stuttering fool. Bridgette still felt fierce anger and pity for the woman. Her affliction had made her the object of scorn with her own family, who should have been her protectors and not her persecutors.
Bridgette bit down on her lip with worry as apprehension made her heart race. Was Colin also one of the king’s escorts? And if Helena was here to secure the Fairy Flag, then Colin was surely here for evil purposes, as well. Why would the king bring him here? To keep him close? To watch him?
From where Bridgette stood with Angus, she could see Lachlan’s back. He was at the front of the line with Helena at his side. Jealousy gripped Bridgette, even though she knew he did not care for Helena. Iain and Marion stood by them, and as the king descended the birlinn, he paused in front of Lachlan and Iain. He spoke to both men briefly, then pulled Iain aside and spoke with him for a long moment. Was he asking what Lachlan had learned? Was he angry at the lack of progress? Would he soon demand Lachlan try to seduce Helena to get the information the king required? Bridgette gulped.
The king’s hands flew rapidly through the air as he talked, and at one point, he turned and pointed to Colin, who offered a quick, curt nod. Finally, with an intense expression that Bridgette could not read, Iain turned to the crowd and raised his hands for quiet. Once a hush fell, he spoke. “Welcome yer king back amongst us!”
A deafening roar erupted from the crowd, and Bridgette found herself cheering along with everyone else.
Iain motioned for silence once more. “We will have a special feast in honor of King David’s return and in honor of the guest he has brought to our castle.”
Bridgette studied the line of people who had now descended off the boat and had moved near the king. She knew his mistress, Katherine Mortimer, was traveling with him. Bridgette had never met her, but the tiny blond woman now huddled by David’s side had to be Lady Mortimer. Bridgette scanned the other men quickly. She had met the steward, Robert—King David’s nephew—as the lord had come to her home when David was imprisoned under the guise, as her brother had put it, of ensuring Alex’s continued allegiance to the true King of the Scots. Alex had vowed in private, even then, that the steward wished to be king. Alex had also vowed in private that the steward would never sit on the throne as more than a temporary regent in David’s absence.
The steward had not changed overly much since she had met him. He still had russet hair, but now he also had a full beard to match. His eyes still appeared shrewd and watchful as ever as his gaze met hers. She forced herself not to look away but held his stare until it was he who turned his attention elsewhere.
She did not personally know the other three men who stood along by King David, but from Iain’s accounting of who was accompanying the king here, she knew it had to be Archibald Douglas—cousin to the newly appointed Earl of Douglas and illegitimate son of Sir James Douglas—Robert Erskine, and John Danielson. The latter of whom held the important position of being keeper of Dumbarton Castle, which was a key royal strongpoint and presence in western Scotland.
King David stepped forward, capturing her full attention. “Tonight we celebrate the victory over our enemies, and tomorrow we will forge a stronger future for Scotland!” His face turned intense and hard. “We will drink to the demise of any who are nae true and any who dare to oppose me.”
Bridgette cheered along with the crowd until her throat ached.
As King David made his way through the crowd toward the seagate stairs, the people parted to let him pass. Directly behind the king was the steward, Katherine Mortimer, and the other men in the king’s party. Behind the king strode Iain with Marion at his side, and behind them were Lachlan and Graham, followed by Alex, and Colin and Helena, who had their heads together, no doubt plotting. As they drew nearer, Bridgette frowned at the confusion on Lachlan’s face. As she studied the rest of the party, her breath caught at the tense expressions. Something had happened!
Bridgette searched Marion out, thinking to somehow get near her and discern what had occurred, but her search stalled when she met Colin Campbell’s stare. The triumphant smile he offered her made the disquiet inside of her turn to stark fear.
Knots filled her stomach, and her palms grew damp. The king passed her without a parting glance, but as Iain and Marion drew closer, Bridgette did not miss the horrified look Marion gave her. The knots in Bridgette’s stomach fairly pulsed, and when her brother stopped in front of her, settled a serious gaze on her, and asked, “Are ye well?” she didn’t bother to answer that question but asked one of her own.
“What has occurred? Why are ye here?”
Alex scowled, glanced around him, and took her by the arm. “Come with me,” he ordered in a gruff voice and pulled her into the line behind some of the MacLeod warriors. She doubled her steps to keep up with her brother’s clipped pace.
“What has occurred?” Bridgette demanded again. “What’s vexing ye?”
“Ye are, as always,” he growled.
“I kinnae see how I could possibly be vexing ye when I’ve nae seen ye for so long,” she snapped, irritated that he had not truly answered her question.
“Yer ability to vex is apparently far-reaching,” he grumbled but then squeezed her arm gently.
Bridgette scowled. “Ye can release me. Ye behave as if I may run off.”
“Ye verra well may when ye hear what’s amiss,” Alex replied in a grave tone that made apprehension claw at Bridgette.
“What is amiss?” she hissed, pulling away from him and refusing to take one more step up the seagate stairs until her brother gave her a proper answer.
He paused above her, twisted around, and snarled, “Colin Campbell.”
“I dunnae ken,” she whispered, the apprehension now roiling like waves in a viole
nt storm.
As they reached the top of the stairs, Alex moved toward the castle, not breaking his stride. “The man is wily as a fox. He saved the king’s life on the road, and the king means to reward him.”
“Why does that vex ye?” she asked as they entered the castle.
Iain stood outside of the great hall, an urgent look upon his face, and when he spotted them, he motioned to Alex. As they walked toward Iain, Bridgette’s concern grew.
Iain’s gaze fell on her, and the gravity she saw there made her shiver. “The king wishes to discuss this now,” he said, focusing on Alex. His low voice had an ominous quality to it.
Alex muttered a curse under his breath. “I suspected he would.”
Iain’s attention came to her once more. “Have ye told her?”
“Told me what?” Bridgette demanded, trying to yank her arm free, but her brother’s grip increased.
“It’s simple,” Alex said, his strained expression belying his declaration. “The reward Colin wants for saving the king’s life? Colin has picked ye.”
Bridgette could not order her thoughts. They seemed to stumble over one another in her head. “I dunnae ken what ye mean.”
Alex gave her a sympathetic look. “Colin asked the king to order ye to marry him, and the king agreed to grant his wish.”
Bridgette jerked out of Alex’s grip and stumbled backward. Alex reached for her, but she flinched away. “You gave a death vow to our mother to let me pick my husband,” she accused, her heart hammering in her chest.
Alex glared at her. “Do ye believe I forgot it?” Alex thundered, making her flinch. He jerked his hand through his hair. “I told the king about the vow, and he’s reluctantly agreed to hear my plea today, as well as hear Colin’s argument, but the king is nae one to give a pledge and then rescind it, and he courts the Campbell’s support.”
“He’ll hear Graham’s plea, as well,” Iain added, eyeing her warily.
Wicked Highland Wishes (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 2) Page 16