by Aileen Adams
“There is no such thing as renewed animosity,” Maccay said softly. “Our clans have been fighting for longer than any of us can remember. It takes little to trigger bloodshed. Not that long ago, Clyde and Jake clashed. I would assume that’s why he’s here—he’s planning something, but we haven’t figured that out yet.”
“But why would he come here if there’s such open animosity between your clans? What could he hope to gain? If he’s already tried to kill Jake once and he’s after revenge, why would he come here? Why not ambush him in the woods?”
“I don’t know,” Maccay replied. “And that’s probably something the laird also wants to know.”
Alis hadn’t realized how secure and comfortable she’d grown living here with the Duncans, and in Maccay’s house, until it soon to be ripped away from her. Wasn’t it always that way? To become so comfortable with something and taking it for granted, only to realize what you had only when one risked losing it?
How did she know that… and why did everything have to be so complicated?
As she stood, securely wrapped in Maccay’s embrace, a myriad of thoughts raced through her mind. While she appreciated the fact that Phillip was trying to stall, and that for now at least, the McGregor was camped in the woods with his companion, how long could she possibly hope for a reprieve?
Who was to say that the man riding with Clyde wasn’t racing back at this very moment to McGregor lands to gather reinforcements? And when it came right down to it, why would she, a lone female, be so important to the McGregor clan that they would risk open warfare with the Duncan clan?
She was just a woman. Women weren’t a particularly important component in clan hierarchy. Again, she wondered how she knew that. But she did. Especially not a niece, potentially one of many to the McGregor laird. What was she? A convenient excuse to wage war?
“Who am I, Maccay?” she asked, not really expecting an answer. “They say that I’m the niece of the McGregor laird, but if so, why was I left in the middle of the woods by myself?”
“Now that’s a question that we all would like an answer to.”
They continued to stand as they were, arms wrapped around one another, not saying anything, both of them absorbed with their own thoughts, fears, and anxieties.
After a while, she forced her thoughts from our own problems and focused on Sarah and Heather. “What do you think is happening with Patrick MacDonald?”
“I don’t know.”
She felt the vibration of his voice rumbling from his chest and tilted her head, resting her chin against his breast bone. “I’m worried about Sarah and Heather. What kind of trouble can this bring to them?”
“We’re worried,” Maccay admitted. “And the simple answer is that we don’t know. Phillip and Jake married them legally, but gossip travels far and fast. It could lead to bigger problems in the future.”
“Why don’t you go see if you can find anything out? If nothing else, it might distract us, and me especially, from worrying about the McGregors. Anything is better than standing here, dreading what’s going to happen to me, or to us.”
Maccay leaned back and frowned down at her. “I cannot interfere with that issue. That is between Phillip, Jake, and Patrick MacDonald.”
“Not necessarily,” she said. “You think of Sarah and Heather as sisters, don’t you?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “I know that all of you are close, and Sarah told me that you, Hugh, Phillip, and Jake grew up together.” He said nothing. “Aren’t you curious?”
Maccay shrugged. “Of course, I’m curious, but I was told to stay here with you.”
She frowned. “I’d like to go sit with Sarah and Heather, if it’s at all possible. They’ve got to be worried sick. Maybe we could provide comfort to one another.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
“Why not?”
“For one, because the laird told me to stay here with you. And for two, as I said before, that particular situation doesn’t involve me. Or you.”
She stepped away from him, shaking her head. “Please, Maccay. It should be safe enough, don’t you think? The McGregors are camped in the woods. I really would like to at least see if there’s anything I can do for them, especially after everything they’ve done for me, and the support they’ve shown me.”
She felt guilty about it, but truth be told, if she had to stay cooped up in this small house much longer, she would simply collapse with worry. She needed to be doing something, anything to distract herself from her own problems, even if it was sitting with Sarah and Heather in an attempt to provide them some comfort. There had to be something that she could do other than sit here and wait for the axe to fall.
She said as much to Maccay. Finally, he seemed to relent and offered a deep sigh.
“Fine. But Phillip isn’t going to like it.”
“He doesn’t have to know,” she said. “Please.”
He gestured toward one of the hooks on the wall where a rough blanket cloak hung. “Cover yourself with that. We’ll go to the manor house, but if I get any indication that there’s trouble afoot, or if Phillip or Jake are there, we’re turning right back around and coming back here. Understood?”
She barely hesitated. “Understood.”
Alis looked forward to getting out of the house and doing something but the thought of Clyde McGregor lurking nearby had her nerves on edge. She and Maccay left the house, he in front, searching the grounds before gesturing for her to come outside. He grabbed her hand and held tightly. Afraid she would run? Or was it out of protection? She wanted to believe it was the latter.
“Maccay, what if—”
“Shhh,” he lifted a finger to his lips. “Let’s just get to the house as quickly and quietly as possible.”
His nervousness startled her.
It was at that moment that she realized what she was asking him to do. She tugged on his arm, prompting him to stop. “Never mind, Maccay,” she whispered. “I don’t want to go anymore. I’ll go back to the house.”
He paused and turned to glance at her over his shoulder, obviously confused.
She didn’t want to argue with him here and tugged again on his arm, heading back toward the house.
With a sigh, he followed. As soon as they were inside, he shut the door.
“What’s the matter? A minute ago, you were insisting that we go. What happened?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “After we were outside, I didn’t… I didn’t realize that I was putting you into such a difficult situation.” He said nothing as guilt washed over her. “I was thinking only of myself. I don’t want you to get into trouble with the laird. I can wait. I’ll try harder to be patient.”
His expression softened as he let go of her hand and placed it on her shoulder. “I know this must be incredibly difficult for you,” he said. “I’ll go check on Sarah and Heather. If I see Phillip or Jake, I’ll ask if it’s all right if you stay with them at the manor house.”
“Thank you,” she said.
To convince him that she meant what she said, she moved to the table and sat down, folding her hands in her lap.
While it went against the grain for her to do so, she would wait.
It was difficult, but if he could do it, so could she.
19
Maccay left Alis sitting at the table and walked outside, inwardly relieved that she had changed her mind about going to the manor house.
The only reason he had even acquiesced was because he was trying to assuage his own sense of guilt and sympathy for her situation.
And his own growing misery.
He wanted to please her, to make her happy, but in doing so, he knew he was potentially opening a door he didn’t want to open. He had never been conflicted in regard to what the laird needed or wanted from him.
Now, with Alis, things could grow more complicated. He had to abide by the laird’s orders, but at the same time, he wanted to assure Alis that he was supporting
her in any way he could. He knew he should have refused outright, but he also understood a little of what she must be feeling. Fearful, her destiny to be determined by everyone but herself, sequestered in his house as if she were a prisoner.
He sighed as he walked toward the corner of the armory and around to the manor house. To his surprise, he found the door open.
Approaching, he glanced inside. There, at the end of the great hall, Sarah and Heather sat at the table near the fireplace. Across from them sat Patrick MacDonald, his face flushed red, that sheriff standing slightly behind him.
Both Jake and Phillip stood at the head of the table, close to their wives, both wearing scowls, arms crossed over their chests.
He paused at the door, not wanting to intrude, prepared to turn around and return home. He felt a tap on his shoulder and quickly spun around, his surprise fading when he recognized Hugh in the darkness.
“What’s going on?” he whispered, stepping away from the doorway into the shadows beside the house.
“Sarah and Heather are giving their statements to that law man. Their stepfather isn’t any too happy,” Hugh replied. “I think he believes that he was going to come here, tell them to go back with him, and they were going to agree.”
“What made him think he had any legal grounds—”
“You kidnapped my daughter!”
That from Patrick MacDonald, and even from outside, Maccay could hear the slurring of his words. Sarah had not exaggerated. Her stepfather was a drunk. Even in dangerous lands like the highlands, and far from the comforts of his own home, he obviously had no qualms about imbibing in his usual habits.
Fool.
“He did not kidnap me!” Sarah retorted, her voice firm and angry. “His brother was severely wounded. He heard of my healing skills—”
“You’re a liar, just as you always were!” Patrick snarled.
Voice raised, Sarah snapped back a sharp retort. “And you’re still a drunkard, same as you always were!”
The cacophony of raised voices soon had the sheriff trying to calm Patrick while Sarah and Heather both berated their stepfather. The laird tried to calm everyone, to no avail. Maccay glanced at Hugh and shook his head.
“Do you see any resolution to this?”
“Aye, I do,” Hugh nodded.
“And that is?”
“Kick his arse all the way back to Kirkcaldy!”
Maccay sighed and shook his head. It didn’t look like Alis would be visiting the manor house anytime soon.
“What are you doing here?” Hugh asked. “I thought you were supposed to be guarding Alis… or Mairi.”
He frowned at his friend. “Not guarding her, Hugh. Just watching over her.”
“Have it your way,” he shrugged. “So why are you here?”
“She wanted to see if she could sit with Sarah and Heather to keep them company, but I see that that’s definitely not going to be an option anytime soon.” He turned to his friend. “Where’s the McGregor?”
Hugh gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “Camping about a mile to the west. Don’t worry, I’ve got half-dozen men located in the woods around their camp.”
Maccay turned to walk back to his house, but Hugh stopped him.
“Is it true then?”
Maccay frowned. “Is what true?”
“You proclaimed your love for Alis… or Mairi…?”
Maccay hesitated, but only briefly before he offered a short nod. “Aye, I did.”
“And if she has to go?”
Maccay didn’t answer. He had no answer to that possibility. He would just have to deal with—
“I heard them talking.”
Hugh tugged on his shirt and Maccay turned to him as his friend pulled him further away from the door and deeper into the shadows of the trees near the armory.
He allowed his best friend to do so, although he didn’t understand why.
“Heard who talking?”
“The McGregor.”
Maccay’s interest was piqued. “And?”
“Maccay, from what I gather, Alis… Mairi rather, was betrothed to one of the Orkney clan—”
“What?” Maccay interrupted. “An Orkney?” Was it possible?
“Apparently, old Angus McGregor betrothed Alis… Mairi, to Keith, the grandson of the Orkney clan leader.”
Maccay frowned, confused. The McGregors and the Orkneys didn’t get along much better than the McGregors and the Duncans. “Why ever for?”
“Apparently, to join their clans, or build a bridge between them. Join forces to provide greater opposition to our clan.”
Maccay thought about that.
Such practices were certainly not unusual, but he’d never known anyone, man nor woman, who had been forced into such a relationship.
Knowing Alis like he did, he couldn’t imagine that she would’ve liked the arrangement at all.
“She ran away?”
Hugh hesitated.
“Is that why she was out in those woods all by herself?” Maccay prodded.
Hugh shook his head and lowered his voice, his words slow and measured. “No, Maccay, she didn’t run away. When she refused the arrangement, she brought shame to her uncle. He ordered her banished…”
“And?”
“And she was beaten near to death and left in the woods for the wolves.”
Maccay’s growl of anger broke the stillness under the tree. His hands balled into fists, his heart pounded while bloodlust ran through his veins. He stared at Hugh. “Are you sure?”
He couldn’t fathom someone treating Alis this way. Though it was not unusual for men to beat their wives, nor for women to become an easy target for men’s desires, he hated to think that Alis had taken the brunt of something like that. He would never lay a hand on a woman—
“Maccay, calm yourself. You—”
“Does the laird know about this?”
Hugh shook his head. “I had come to tell him, but as you can see, he’s otherwise occupied.”
“He can’t allow the McGregor to take her back,” Maccay muttered. “She refused to bow to the betrothal before. Now, without her memory, you know how she’s likely to react.”
“Aye,” Hugh agreed. “And they’re likely to do more than beat her and abandon her in the woods if they get their hands on her. She’s brought shame to both clans.”
They would kill her. Maccay knew it.
The McGregors were not known for their kindness.
He sighed, trying to gain hold of his anger. He dipped his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. That was all there was to it then.
He wouldn’t let Alis go with them. He couldn’t.
“Are you going to tell her?” Hugh asked, his voice tinged with hesitance.
He lifted his head, thinking about it. He didn’t want to, but perhaps she should know. “Don’t you think I should? Don’t you think she has a right to know?”
Hugh shook his head. “I don’t know, Maccay. What good will it do? Is she better off knowing or not knowing?”
“I think—”
“Keep in mind, Maccay, that this is a delicate situation. It must be handled carefully. I know the laird wants to avoid renewed bloodshed with the McGregor clan, and that’s especially important if they’re joining forces with the Orkneys.” He paused, then asked quietly. “Is she worth the risk?”
“Aye,” Maccay said, his voice firm, looking his friend in the eyes. He wasn’t surprised when Hugh offered a short nod.
“As soon as the laird is available, I’ll let him know what’s happening. In the meantime, I think it’s best that you go back to your house. Wait and see what the laird wants to do about it.”
Despite his desire for Hugh to let Phillip know what was happening immediately, for Alis’ sake, he knew that the laird also had another other serious situation to deal with. And when it came right down to it, Maccay didn’t doubt for a moment that Sarah’s safety and well-being would, and always would, take precedence o
ver a member of an enemy clan, no matter how said member came to be in their midst.
He turned to walk away from Hugh, his heart heavy, his thoughts somber as he realized that Phillip would never risk the safety of his clan for the sake of one woman.
At least not a McGregor.
20
The moment Maccay left the house, Alis felt a heavy shroud of dread settle over her shoulders. She began to pace again. Her stomach felt like it was tied in a knot. She felt… afraid and helpless.
She hadn’t felt afraid in a long time, but now that deep, unsettling feeling that burned into her stomach caused for more than a bit of trepidation. It wasn’t just the fear of having to leave Maccay and the Duncans. No, that fear was almost instinctive, likely learned.
Which brought her right back to why she had been living in the woods by herself in the first place. Coupled with her intense and instant dislike and wariness of Clyde McGregor, she could only wonder.
Think… think!
She paused in the middle of the floor, closed her eyes and concentrated. Tried to force herself to remember, anything past the moment when she woke up in the bedroom inside the Duncan house.
After several intense moments, hoping that something, anything would happen, she mumbled with disappointment and resignation. It was all a blank. Everything about her past was a blank.
She was Mairi McGregor. What did that mean? What could it mean? What if she—
A soft knock on the door. Once again, she froze and sent a startled gaze toward it, her heart pounding.
“Alis, it’s Maccay. Open the door.”
With a sigh of relief, she lifted the latch to allow Maccay entrance. She closed the door, turning to reach for the cloak she had hung on the peg, prepared to visit with Sarah and Heather.
What a welcome distraction that would be!
When she turned, she noted Maccay’s troubled expression, his frown and the tightening of his jaw.