When a Highlander Loses His Heart (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 4)

by Julie Johnstone

  The king waved a hand. “Dunnae be bitter, Isobel. Yer castle has kept ye alive.”

  Graham gritted his teeth at the king’s blunt but true words. He had seen the way Isobel tensed and knew the king had wounded her with his statement.

  “Relay the letter,” the king commanded the messenger.

  The man scurried forward. “King David, the Campbell wishes to meet with ye personally to work through the grievances between the two of ye.”

  “Grievances!” the king roared. “Yer laird conspired with Jamie MacLeod to try to take Dunvegan Castle from a clan he kens well is my ally!” The king stood, his face red. “Yer laird is conspiring to topple me from my throne!”

  “Sire, nay,” the messenger cried out, but he stepped back a bit as if he feared the protest would earn him a hit across the face.

  “Aye,” the king rebutted. “The Campbell dunnae like that I dunnae seek his counsel to run Scotland. He wished to place my nephew, who would be a puppet king, on the throne,” King David growled.

  Robert Erskine stood and whispered something in the king’s ear. King David nodded and took a deep breath. “Why should I meet with the Campbell? I believe I will simply wage war on him.”

  Graham tensed. It was a bold and surprising threat. The king had a great many men to call upon who would battle for him—the MacLeod clan included—but so did the Campbell. And to openly declare war on the laird who had requested a discussion toward peace—true or not—without knowing what other men were conspiring with the Campbell seemed a dangerous risk to the lands and people of Scotland. As much as Graham would love to destroy the Campbells, war for the throne would bring havoc to the land that the king had been trying to restore order to ever since he’d been released from imprisonment in England. War against enemies unknown could quite possibly cost the king his throne. It seemed wiser to stay with the plan they had concocted to have the king openly denying any knowledge of Graham and his men destroying Innis Chonnell, and then hopefully lure the Campbell into telling King David what other nobles were conspiring against him. Then King David could strike with an advantage while his enemies were unaware, thus ensuring short battles that caused the least destruction to the land and innocent people.

  The messenger cleared his throat, and Graham could see that the man was trembling. “Sire, the Campbell bid me to tell you that he will be glad to show ye he has good intentions by naming a list of nobles he believes wish ye ill, and once ye have those names, the two of ye can meet.”

  “What does the Campbell desire in return for this list?” King David demanded, his words spiked with anger.

  “Three small things, Sire.” The messenger looked to Isobel, and Graham clenched his fists, knowing what the man would say. “The Campbell is certain ye are as angry as he is that the MacLeods took his beloved daughters by force.”

  “Marsaili Campbell was nae taken by force,” the king replied, motioning to a table in the far back of the room where Graham had failed to notice Marsaili sitting alone. “Come forth and speak the truth, Marsaili.”

  Graham watched Marsaili walk slowly to the dais, and he could feel Isobel’s tension as she stared at Marsaili. After a moment of silence, Marsaili cleared her throat. “I willingly left Innis Chonnell to come to Dunvegan as I am half-MacLeod on my mother’s side, as my father well knows. I wish to make my home with the MacLeods and willingly submit to the will of my laird—and half brother—Iain MacLeod, and to the will of my king.”

  King David smiled at Marsaili. “Go now. I will speak with yer brother about the best course for yer future.”

  Marsaili nodded and turned quickly away, but as she came to Isobel and Graham she reached out and squeezed Isobel’s hand, then speared Graham with a look. “Dunnae ye forget,” she said in a low voice, “ye vowed to champion Isobel.”

  He nodded, not wishing to speak of his vow with so many listening.

  Once Marsaili departed and the door to the great hall closed once more, the king spoke again. “Ye may relate to the Campbell that his daughter Marsaili will stay with the MacLeods as is her right. Now,” the king boomed. “Ye may also tell the Campbell I was angry indeed that Graham MacLeod took Isobel Campbell from her loving home,” the king said, managing to sound outraged.

  Graham clenched his teeth, though he knew this was the best path.

  “I was also verra angry that the MacLeods chose to attack the Campbell’s castle without my consent or knowledge.”

  Isobel inhaled sharply beside Graham. Did she think him a liar or the king? It should not matter to him what she thought, but it did. “Ye will tell the Campbell I said so, but ye will also remind him that it was his conspiring to steal the MacLeod castle with Jamie MacLeod, along with his son and daughter trying to steal the Fairy Flag, that started his problems with the MacLeods.”

  “Aye, Sire. I will relay yer message. But begging yer pardon, will ye send his beloved daughter Isobel with me to return to the Campbell?”

  Graham wanted to refute the request but knew best to save his arguments, if needed, for when the messenger was gone. Though he could not imagine King David would do something like send the heiress of Brigid Castle back to her father to be married to one of the king’s enemies.

  A smirk came to the king’s lips. “Tell him it is far too dangerous to send Isobel back to him and risk that she is captured by one of his enemies or one of mine. It is much wiser to marry her quickly, so that the risk of her being married by force to an enemy dunnae come to pass.”

  “But, Sire—” the messenger started.

  “Go now,” the king ordered in a voice edged with menace. “There is nae any more left to say.”

  “Yes, Sire.” The messenger bowed, but when he came up, he took a deep breath and said, “Begging yer forgiveness, but the Campbell wished me to tell ye once more that his son Findlay wishes his beloved wife, Lena, returned to him.”

  Graham scoffed, as did Iain, Lachlan, and Cameron.

  “I’ve nae forgotten his request,” the king replied. “Now leave.”

  As Graham watched the messenger depart, he could feel Isobel trembling beside him.

  The king swept a dark look around the room. “Did ye notice the messenger did nae offer the names of my enemies? The Campbell is biding his time, as I am mine. He’s not desperate enough yet to actually give up the names of his coconspirators, but by the saints, he will be! I am nae a fool!” King David seethed.

  David paced back and forth for a long minute before speaking again. “The Campbell must think me a fool to have sent that messenger with his request!” The king pounded his fist upon the table. “He is the fool to imagine he could openly try to take the castle of one of my allies.” The king smacked his chest with his palm. The sound reverberated around the tensely quiet room. “Why does he believe me weak?” The king roared, his burning gaze moving over all in the room.

  Graham had seen King David like this months before when talking of the conspiracy he believed his nephew, the Steward, had instigated with other nobles to take David’s throne. It was best to stay silent in this situation and let the king speak his frustration.

  The king dismounted the dais in several pounding steps, and as he did, Isobel drew so close to Graham that the length of their arms and legs touched. Her trembling had grown worse. Discreetly, he took her hand and squeezed, then quickly released it before someone noticed. But as he did, Iain’s hard stare caught his attention. His brother raised a questioning eyebrow at him, and Graham had the sense that Iain somehow knew he was battling feelings of some sort for Isobel.

  The king stopped in front of Isobel, and Graham had to muster great restraint not to move in front of her.

  “Isobel Campbell,” the king said, “do ye ken who yer father hoped ye to marry?”

  Isobel glanced immediately at Graham, biting on her lip, and he realized with a start that she did know something. He nodded at her to tell the king, and when she spoke, he exhaled a rough breath, only then realizing how important it had been to hi
m that she willingly share what she knew. It showed she trusted him and truly was not loyal to her father.

  Isobel licked her lips. “I was to marry the Earl of March’s son, James.”

  Graham blanched at the news. It would be an utter atrocity to marry Isobel to a man such as James of Dunbar. Not only was he a sadistic man but he had no love of women. If rumors were to be believed, he actually held an extreme dislike of them.

  “Ah,” the king said, interrupting Graham’s thoughts. David’s lips twisted with scorn. “We add another supposedly faithful subject to the conspiracy against me. Of course yer father wishes to wed ye to gain Brigid, and the man ye marry must be of a powerful family to help yer father in his quest for my throne. This is nae a surprise,” he continued. “Yer father and the Earl of March make dangerous allies, and I kinnae allow that. Do ye ken why, Isobel?”

  “Nay, Sire,” she replied in a firm voice that made Graham oddly proud. “I dunnae hardly ken my father. I believed I did, but I recently came to learn what I thought I kenned was a lie.”

  The king nodded, his expression softening. “We often convince ourselves of lies when the truth is clear to see, if we would just look.”

  Graham studied David. The lines around his eyes and mouth had deepened since last he had seen the king. He seemed more withdrawn and more guarded now, as if he himself was uncertain whom he could trust. Unease entered Graham’s mind like a dark cloud. Was the king questioning trusting the MacLeods or others?

  The king took a deep breath. “Did ye ken I was imprisoned for a great many years?”

  “Aye, Sire,” Isobel answered. “Sister Mary bid us pray daily for yer safe return.”

  “She sounds like a verra good nun,” David replied, and Graham watched Isobel, wondering if she would take the easy yet deceitful route and simply agree with the king, or if she would tell the truth and risk the king’s anger for her daring to disagree with him.

  Isobel shifted from foot to foot before speaking. “I dunnae mean to be contrary,” she said slowly, “but she is a cruel woman, though clearly praying for ye was wise.”

  The king chuckled. “A verra good answer, Isobel.”

  Graham could not have agreed more. Isobel was beautiful, smart, and had proven just now that she had a silver tongue for speech—an important quality in a woman who would be wed to a man who commanded many warriors.

  “In my absence,” the king said, “men like yer father—great men—joined together to rule Scotland and keep it safe. They guarded it while I was imprisoned by putting a puppet king on my throne.” The king’s voice dropped low and intense. “One of the great nobles they rallied behind was none other than my nephew, Robert Stewart, Earl of Strathearne.”

  “I have heard talk of the Steward,” Isobel dutifully answered.

  “My nephew, yer father, and the Earl of March together ruled Scotland. And I am grateful. Dunnae mistake that.”

  “Nay, Your Grace. I would nae ever mistake yer obvious thankfulness.”

  Her large blue eyes looked so earnest that Graham could not tell if she was being genuine or not.

  “My nephew controls much of western and northern Scotland,” the king went on, “while March controls the eastern marshes and a bit of territory in northern Scotland. Oh, but I have forgotten William Douglas, the Earl of Douglas. He controls the central border and some of the western borders as well, and also some lands in the central lowlands of Lothian. These men made decisions a king makes when I was absent. It’s difficult, I ken, when one has felt like a king, to become a mere man once again.”

  Graham expected Isobel to simply agree. Instead, she narrowed her eyes. “Possibly, but they are mere men. Ye are their king, ordained so by God. They must bow to yer commands and wishes.”

  King David smiled. “I like ye, Isobel. Ye are a woman, but ye see things as a man who is faithful to me should. They supported me, and they claim they still do. I have needed their support as I regain my power and draw my allies near. I’ve found,” he said, leaning very close to Isobel, “that I prefer those close to me not to be nobles because the common people dunnae want to be me. They only want to support me.” His voice was so low that Graham would not have heard it if he had not been standing so close to Isobel. “I do believe yer father, and it seems March and possibly the others I mentioned, wish I preferred them close. They want a puppet king again, nae a fierce one with his own mind.” The king’s face twisted viciously. “I’m no man’s puppet, Isobel.”

  She nodded, looking serene, but Graham could see her pulse beating rapidly at her neck.

  “I am a warrior,” the king added. “Do ye ken what warriors usually do to their enemies?”

  She shook her head.

  “They destroy them. But I must be careful,” David said in an eerily calm voice. Graham found himself leaning forward to listen, wondering what the king would say. “I am a warrior, but I am king. My natural inclination is to destroy my enemies, yet I find myself in the frustrating position of nae kenning for certain who all my enemies are.” His breathing had sped up and high color had risen in his face. “I must play a game,” he hissed, and Isobel flinched. “I will relent to certain things to obtain what I need. And I detest, above all, relenting to that I wish nae to, but nae even I, the king, can always escape the chains of duty.”

  Graham’s chest tightened with worry. The king was clearly preparing Isobel for news she would not care for, and Graham suspected neither would he.

  “What I need,” the king continued, “is the names of all my enemies. I believe yer father can give me those names.”

  Graham’s body tensed at the look of fear that crossed Isobel’s face.

  “Yer father wants ye in exchange for the names, but I’ll nae give him that.”

  Graham’s blood pulsed with thickening unease.

  “What will ye give him, Sire?” Isobel asked, her eyes knowing and her voice resigned.

  The king let out a long sigh. “Ye are perceptive, Isobel Campbell. I must have an ally to supplant yer father in the event that his anger leads him to do something more foolish than he has already done. And this ally must be more powerful than yer father.”

  Graham did not like the sound of that. To whom was the king planning to marry Isobel? Graham sought out Iain’s gaze, but his brother looked just as baffled as Graham felt.

  The king rocked back on his heels. “I have been in contact with yer grandmother, Isobel,” he threw out casually. Too casually. Graham’s disquiet grew tenfold.

  “The moment ye arrived here, I sent a special messenger to her,” David continued, glancing toward the window as if he feared what they might see in his face. He inhaled deeply before turning back. His stony face made Graham curl his hands into fists “And we have struck a bargain.”

  Graham looked to his brother once more. Unease had replaced confusion—Iain had not known that the king had done this.

  “What sort of bargain have ye struck with the Lady of Brigid?” Iain demanded, anger barely controlled in his tone.

  The king narrowed his eyes on Iain. “She has offered me three hundred of her husband’s fighting men to command at will, along with three hundred of her brother’s men, in exchange for seeing her granddaughter safely to Brigid to become mistress of the castle. Yer grandmother is wise,” David said, his mollifying tone telling Graham the king was now making his case to Iain, for Graham knew well that David would not be swayed by Isobel. “She kens as I do that in order for ye to be safe ye must be wed as she is. Aye, she holds the castle, but only with the aid of her husband and her brother, who are both powerful men. Hence, ye must be wed to a powerful man who can protect Brigid, and the man must be faithful to the Scottish throne. Yer grandmother is cunning. She insisted, as part of our bargain, I must allow ye to choose yer husband from three men that ye and I deem worthy.”

  Isobel’s eyes widened. “She did?”

  “Aye,” the king replied with barely concealed irritation. “It seems the whole reason she made the provision
that ye could nae inherit Brigid until ye reached eighteen summers was that at that age ye would be in a better position than yer mother had been to choose yer husband wisely.”

  Isobel’s lips parted. “I did nae ken this.”

  “Now ye do,” the king said impatiently.

  “And if we kinnae come to an agreement?” Isobel asked.

  The king’s cold smile became baleful. “Ye can always go back to yer father and marry James of Dunbar.”

  Graham knew good and well the king would not allow her to return to her father and be used for the Campbell to strengthen his position, but Isobel did not know the king well enough to surmise this. He was playing a game, as he had said, but he was now playing it with Isobel. It enraged Graham and cold fear for her swept through him. The king knew precisely who he wished Isobel to marry, and suddenly Graham found the idea of her being used by anyone intolerable. The king motioned behind him to the dais. “Archibald Douglas is my first name for ye.”

  Archibald was a decent man, but he was the king’s man through and through. Isobel’s welfare would never be as important to Archibald as his duty to the king. Graham rocked back on his heels, his gut clenching tighter.

  “The second name is Rory Danielson,” the king declared.

  Graham immediately knew exactly what the David was doing. He was presenting Isobel with three men who would do his bidding unfailingly. Rory Danielson was the son of John Danielson, who was the keeper of Dunbarton Castle. It was a royal stronghold and presence in western Scotland that would have to be under the king’s absolute control for him to crush any rebellion that might rise there. By offering John’s son an important castle such as Brigid, the king ensured John’s continued loyalty.

  Who would be the king’s third choice? Another man who would willingly put Isobel in danger should the king command it? It felt as if a hand were pressing down hard upon Graham’s chest. He was responsible for her. He had brought her here and promised he would ensure her safety.

  “For the third man, who I firmly believe to be the best choice, I put forth Gowan MacDonald.”