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

by Julie Johnstone

  “Nay!” Graham denied out loud. The man was the ruthless Lord of the Isles and also the laird of the MacDonald clan. He detested the Campbells as much as Graham’s family did, and Graham feared Isobel’s treatment as his wife.

  “Nay?” the king barked. “What voice do ye have in this?”

  The question reverberated in Graham’s mind. What was he doing? Isobel was hated by his sister, who he owed his loyalty to, but he also owed Isobel protection. She had saved his life, as well as Cameron’s. Graham knew Isobel could very well divide him from his family if they failed to accept her, yet he could not simply let this happen.

  “I wish to be considered as the third choice,” he stated, the calmness in his voice pleasing him, because as he met Isobel’s wide gaze he felt anything but calm.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cold air hit Isobel’s teeth and tongue as her mouth opened in shock. From the way King David’s eyes widened, then narrowed with displeasure, she realized he did not care for the turn of events. The MacLeods were already his allies, and he clearly had said he wanted to bind new allies to him to attain more men. Besides, it seemed as if the king had already made his choice with Gowan MacDonald, and this was just a ruse so that she would tell her grandmother he had held to his part of the bargain.

  She stole a quick sideways look at Graham. His jaw was set, and his eyes narrowed. His hands were clenched into fists by his sides—he was angry and fearful for her. This man who had brought her to the king to be married at David’s will—for she did not doubt the king would assert it and circumvent even his bargain with her grandmother—was now upset for her. Her heart squeezed. Graham had truly earned her trust, her admiration, and yes, a bit of her heart. He was the only one of the men she knew at all. He would treat her with respect and kindness, and she knew not if she could say the same for the other three men.

  As she swept her gaze over his determined profile, broad shoulders, and thick arms, hope rose like an unstoppable mist within her that maybe, just maybe, he wanted her for her and that she would find the love that she had feared would never be hers. Maybe even belong to a family that cherished her.

  “I accept Graham’s offer,” she blurted, wanting to assert her desire before the king spoke.

  The king’s eyes glittered dangerously as they came to her, and under the heat of his angry scrutiny, the hairs on the back of her neck rose and her breath caught deep within her throat. She feared she had just made an enemy of the king, but before she could worry about the consequences of that, Graham took her hand in his, and she eased somewhat. His fingers curled around her hand, and he squeezed. His silent support and palpable strength filled her with calm.

  “David,” Iain said, “what say ye of a marriage between Graham and Isobel? I’m certain ye see it as a good match, as do I.” His tone was as unyielding as a rock. Iain MacLeod, Isobel decided, was the king’s man, but no puppet, just as sure as the king was no puppet.

  Tension blanketed the room as the king and the laird stared at each other, unblinking. The king’s nostrils flared. “It would be an excellent match,” he said, making Isobel’s gut clench at the hesitancy in his voice, “but I fear I did nae foresee such a match, and in my eagerness, I must admit that I already sent word to Gowan offering Isobel as his wife, and he has accepted.”

  Isobel barely managed to stifle a moan of desperation. The king had never intended to let her choose her husband as he had promised her grandmother. He intended to force her just as everyone else had.

  Iain’s jaw twitched. “Ye can undo that which ye have done, can ye nae, David? Ye are king.”

  “I could,” the king said with words that felt very purposeful, “for a price,” he finished in a mild tone, even as his eyes grew cold as deep winter.

  Fear slammed into Isobel’s chest. She did not know of what the king spoke, but it was clear the price would be steep. Graham may have come not to hate her, but his family still held a strong dislike for her, with the exception of Cameron.

  Iain’s face clouded with anger. He looked to the dais where the king’s men sat. “Get out,” he said in a deep, hard voice.

  Both men rose, descending the dais in silence. Graham’s hands suddenly came to Isobel’s shoulders as the king’s men walked past her. Graham turned her abruptly toward him. His gaze bore into hers, intense and insistent. “Follow Cameron out. He will take ye to find Marion, and she will ready ye to be married.”

  Isobel started. She knew she had agreed to be married, but she’d not expected it to be today. Yet, she sensed an urgency in Graham, so she nodded as Cameron took her by the arm and led her toward the door. The moment they exited the great hall, an angry voice resounded from within. She expected Cameron to haul her immediately away, but he stopped, pressed a finger to his lips as his eyes beseeched her to heed his warning, and leaned close to the door. She moved to do the same, and he flicked his gaze to her but did not motion her away.

  She recognized Iain’s voice at once. “What is the price ye speak of?” he demanded.

  “I will consent to the marriage of Isobel and Graham, which will bring yer family their revenge and also place Brigid in yer control, but ye must return Lena to them.”

  Isobel shrank away from the door, aghast, and backed straight into Cameron. His jaw was rigid, and his face flushed. He set a finger to his mouth to warn her to stay silent. When Graham barked, “Nay!” Isobel and Cameron moved as one back to the door.

  “Graham!” Iain growled. “Remember yer oath.”

  Isobel’s head swam. Graham’s oath to whom? The king? Or her? Had he made an oath to Lena to avenge her? Suddenly, doubt about his intent filled her. Had he offered for her in order to protect her or to ensure his ultimate revenge? She pressed a hand to her roiling stomach.

  “Ye kinnae ask us to give our sister back to the Campbells,” Lachlan said.

  “I do,” the king replied simply. “But only temporarily. Once I have the names of those plotting against me, ye may take back yer sister, kill Findlay, and keep Brigid. I trust yer family to rule the castle in my favor. The Campbell will be able to keep his pride, or believe he is doing so, by gaining Lena, and I will declare that yer two clans must be allies.”

  Isobel’s heart pounded so hard it was like a drum in her ears.

  “We will never be allies,” Iain ground out.

  “Of course nae. ’Tis but a deceit,” the king said in a soothing voice that made Isobel dislike him. “If ye wish,” King David continued, “I can marry the Campbell lass to Gowan as I had intended, but I find the more we talk, the more appeal this suggestion holds. I trust no one as I do yer clan. I would have asked the marriage of Graham or even Cameron before now, but to be frank, I did nae believe either would willingly wed Isobel Campbell, Brigid or nae. I should have kenned the sacrifices ye would make to defeat yer enemy, though, Graham.”

  Isobel held her breath waiting to hear what Graham would say, but he did not reply.

  “What say ye, Iain?” King David demanded. “Will ye send Lena back to Findlay for now and gain Brigid forever?”

  “Graham?” Iain said. “Ye offered this. Are ye willing to do this for revenge?”

  For a long, tense moment, Isobel did not think Graham would answer, but then in a voice devoid of emotion, he said, “Aye. I accept what my revenge has brought to me.”

  Isobel’s heart thundered against her ribs, and she had lost the ability to draw a proper breath. She gulped shallow, painful gasps of air. She was being married for revenge. She had been a fool to even hope that it would be more than that. For one brief moment in time she had thought perchance Graham would be her sanctuary and maybe she would be his, but the moment was gone.

  “Spoken like a man with a king’s mind,” King David said. “Then the marriage will take place. I need to send word to Gowan. I’ll give him land to appease him. I’ll return shortly once the messenger has departed, and we can make further intentions regarding Brigid.”

  Cameron jerked on Isobel’s hand at the s
ound of movement from within, and before she could react, she was being dragged into a shadowy alcove under the stairs. Cameron shoved her deep inside the small space and then pressed into the darkness with her. Cobwebs brushed her face and dust filled her nose when she inhaled, but she did her best not to move as the great hall door creaked open and then footsteps tapped up the stairs, first loud and then fading into nothingness.

  The great hall door slammed, and Cameron tugged her out, but when he started toward the stairs, she pulled back.

  “Come,” he hissed. “Ye must ready yerself for the wedding.”

  “I am,” she snapped, looking at the closed door. She would know her future husband, her enemy. She started toward the door only to be abruptly pulled back.

  “Ye kinnae go in there,” Cameron said in a low growl.

  She faced him. “I’ve nae any intention of entering the great hall. I wish to listen more.” Once again she started away, but Cameron gripped her arm.

  “Isobel,” he said quietly. “We must away. They will be coming for ye to marry ye soon.”

  She nodded. “I ken. Release me,” she demanded, trying to make her voice sound as unbending as the ones she had heard Graham and Iain use. When Cameron simply narrowed his eyes at her, she added, “Release me or I will scream, and then yer brother will ken that ye did nae follow his command.” She felt bad about the threat, truly she did, but being obedient had not done much for her in the past.

  Cameron glowered at her. “Be quick, aye? If Graham discovers us here, I’ll nae be the only one who receives discipline.”

  She didn’t doubt Cameron’s words. With a nod, she moved near the door once more. She looked over her shoulder at Cameron. He stood near the stairs watching, she was sure, for the king’s return. Murmured voices came from within the great hall, and Isobel’s frustration mounted as she could not quite discern what they were saying, but then she caught a sentence.

  “We are agreed,” Iain stated.

  She clenched her teeth. Were they referring to coldheartedly sending their sister back to Findlay or something else?

  “Aye,” Graham replied. “We will send word immediately to Alex MacLean to see if he will aid us in making it appear that Lena was taken by renegades on the road back to Innis Chonnell.”

  Isobel sagged with relief. She did not want Lena returned to Findlay, though Isobel knew well this meant they were purposely defying the king.

  “Findlay will suspect and come for her,” Iain said.

  “Aye,” came Graham’s and Lachlan’s replies.

  “And then,” Lachlan said, “when Findlay tries to kill us—as we all ken he will—we will end his life for his past crimes against our sister and the many more we ken in our hearts he has plotted for her.” He paused. “Should we be concerned about the king, Iain?”

  “Nay. What David dunnae ken for certain, he will nay take umbrage to. With Findlay gone, it will be one less Campbell the king has to fash about conspiring against him, and that will please David. In truth, I do believe David fully expected us nae to comply with sending Lena.”

  “Then why did he demand it?” Graham growled.

  “He must,” Iain replied simply. “Just as he must feign he did nae ken we were taking Isobel Campbell in the first place. He plays a game, my brothers; he always has. He kens he can trust us to rule Brigid, even as he kens the best thing for Scotland is to try to avoid a war for the throne. He attempted to do that by using the Campbell to learn who else conspires against him and by giving us Brigid. He could not appear as if he was nae trying to appease the Campbell, though, so he demands what he kens we will nae ever give. He will look the other way when Lena disappears.”

  “Ye could nae have plotted our revenge better, Graham,” Lachlan said, making Isobel blanch at the cold truth. “I am sorry I ever doubted ye. Dunnae delay taking the lass and making the marriage true.”

  Isobel shrank away from the door, horrified. She whirled around toward Cameron. “I’ve heard enough,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper of hurt. “Please see me to Marion.”

  Concern filled Cameron’s face. “Isobel, what did ye hear?”

  “The truth,” she muttered. “In a loch of thick lies, I finally have the truth.” Before Cameron could question her more, she brushed past him and started up the stairs, uncaring if she was actually headed in the direction of Marion or not.

  Graham clenched his teeth as he stared at Lachlan. He understood why his brother would think Graham intended only revenge with his offer of marriage. He had originally gone after Isobel with only retribution as his desire, but his feelings had changed.

  “Isobel will be a MacLeod, Graham said. “I expect ye and everyone else to treat her with respect and nae as our enemy. Her heart is pure.”

  Lachlan’s face took on a startled look. “Ye truly care for the lass? I thought yer fever talk was simply lust.”

  Graham frowned. “I dunnae care for Isobel. I owe her protection. I took her, and she is nae as I thought.”

  “Ye bind yerself willingly to a woman for life simply out of guilt?” Iain asked, giving Graham a skeptical look.

  “It is neither aye nor nay,” Graham replied, refusing to explain himself. He cared for Isobel but not simply because he felt guilt. She was brave, honorable, and innocent.

  “Lust has turned yer head to muck,” Lachlan bit out. “Do ye forget what her family has done?”

  Graham shook his head. “Nay, but she did nae do those deeds. She risked her life to save me from drowning, and she risked her life to save Cameron from Jamie. She is selfless.”

  Lachlan scoffed, but Iain held up a hand for silence. “Yer offer to marry her had nothing to do with Brigid, did it?”

  “Nay,” Graham admitted. “I could nae stand the thought of her being used at the king’s whim. I did nae know the king would demand Lena’s return to Findlay.”

  “But he did,” Lachlan growled. “And ye did nae rescind yer offer of marriage when he made his conditions known.”

  Graham blew out a frustrated breath. “I could nae. But I vow I did nae have any intention of allowing Lena to be sent to Findlay.”

  “I ken ye would nae allow that,” Lachlan said, “But ’tis a dangerous plot ye have drawn us into, even if we will gain control of Brigid.”

  As Graham clenched his teeth to keep from arguing, Iain clamped Lachlan on the shoulder. “Enough. We are all angry and tense. Let us avoid words we will later regret.”

  Both Graham and Lachlan nodded.

  “The marriage is good for the clan since we will attain Brigid,” Iain said simply, then gave Graham a long, assessing look. “It does nae matter why ye volunteered yerself.”

  Graham had a definite sense that Iain, who had always been very perceptive, suspected Graham had left much unsaid, and he had. Yes, he had felt guilt and had not wanted to see her used, but it was more than that. Christ help him, the idea of another man’s mouth on the sweet one he had claimed made fierce possessiveness stir in him. Maybe his nearly uncontrollable desire was what had truly driven him.

  “Desire is a good reason for a marriage,” he snapped at his silent brothers, who now both studied him. He refused to consider it might be more. He could not allow it to be more.

  “It’s a good start,” Iain agreed to Lachlan’s accompanying nod.

  “I must admit,” Lachlan grumbled, “she’s surprised me thus far.”

  “How so?” Graham asked.

  “Well, when ye were ill she somehow managed to convince both Rory Mac and Cameron to disobey Iain’s orders to nae leave her door unguarded so that they could carry information on healing ye to Marion. I could nae figure how saving ye fit into any ill-conceived Campbell plot, but after hearing she risked herself to save yer life and Cameron’s, I suppose I must admit, she may well be different from her father, brothers, and Helena.”

  Graham swallowed, turning the information Lachlan had just given him over in his head. She had risked her safety for him again. There was a part of hi
m that was proud and another part that was angry for her foolishly risking herself once more, and there was yet another part of him that was impressed and astounded that she had been able to convince Rory Mac and Cameron to disobey orders. He would have to speak to them both. It was unacceptable for them to be so soft, but he could see how it might happen if Isobel beseechingly turned her large, luminous blue eyes on them.

  “What shall we tell Lena?” Lachlan asked, drawing Graham’s focus back to his brothers.

  “We kinnae tell her the truth,” Iain immediately replied. Graham had thought as much, but to hear it voiced settled dread in his stomach.

  “I agree, but she’ll likely become even more distant and angry when she learns she is to go back to Findlay,” Graham said.

  “Aye, but with her outbursts, she kinnae be trusted to keep the secret, and if our true intentions become known, the king may well feel forced to oppose us, even though he dunnae wish to,” Iain said. His expression grew taut as his gaze locked on Graham. “Take a care with yer future wife, Brother. Lena hates her, as so many others.”

  “And what of the both of you?” Graham demanded.

  Iain and Lachlan exchanged a swift look. “’Tis nae such a simple thing to dismiss that she is a Campbell,” Lachlan said. “I’m sorry, Brother.”

  Graham nodded. He understood his brothers’ feelings, as he’d had them himself.

  Iain sighed. “I will judge her for herself, but I kinnae say truthfully that I’m nae wary of her. I’m even wary of Marsaili, and she came willingly to us as half-MacLeod.”

  “I ken it well,” Graham replied, wondering once more what he had just set in motion with this marriage.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Somberness hung in the room as Marion and Marsaili, who had come to Isobel’s chamber with Iain’s permission, silently dressed Isobel’s hair. A small twinge of guilt tugged at Isobel that the vibrant, welcoming laird’s wife, who had greeted her, had clearly taken her cue from Isobel’s dark, unfriendly mood and kept a careful distance between them. Isobel stared down at her hands and reminded herself that Marion had likely been ordered to come aid Isobel. Undoubtedly the MacLeod’s wife—with her surprising English accent—did not wish to be here helping the daughter of the Campbell. At least Marsaili truly cared for her.