by Mary Wine
Which meant it was Moira’s duty to greet them. She untied her apron and tried to smooth her hair back into place. It was hopeless, and she sighed on the way to the doors of the keep. Achaius was already standing there, leaning on his cane as a dark-haired man rode through the gates.
For a moment, her heart leapt.
She longed so much for Gahan, she saw only what she wanted to see. When the man rode closer, however, there was no way she could continue deluding herself. He was well muscled and dark-haired, but his chin was smooth.
“That’s Laird Grant’s son,” Achaius informed her. “Tell the cook to impress me at supper.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand as Kael dismounted and made his way up the stairs to clasp Achaius’s hand.
“Kael Grant!” Achaius declared. “It is fine to see ye.”
“And ye as well. This must be yer new bride,” Kael said.
Moira stopped and turned back to face the man. Kael had a devil-may-care grin on his lips, and his dark eyes looked like they were sparkling with mischief. He was every inch a hardened Highlander, but there was something about him that suggested he enjoyed toying with others. She might label him an arrogant rogue, but there was a hint of something in his expression that made her realize he did not bluff. Ever.
“Aye, indeed,” Achaius answered. “A fine bride, and I don’t care if I’m bragging!”
Kael Grant moved closer to her, and he held out his hand. It was a common enough gesture, but she hesitated before placing her hand in his. It felt like the man was testing her. He raised her hand to his lips and gave her the briefest of grazes before releasing her.
“She’s worth bragging about and, if I do say so, I believe ye have married the right Fraser sister.” Kael tilted his head toward Achaius. “I think Saer MacLeod is mad to be wedding Sandra. I hear she tried to poison the Earl of Sutherland. But I suppose the man has his eyes on the heir to the Fraser land. I do nae think it is worth suffering a venomous bitch for a wife.”
“Ye must have heard wrong.” Achaius’s tone was chilling. For the first time, all joviality was gone, and his expression was deadly. “Sandra Fraser is dead.”
Kael looked surprised. “Nay, she is no. It seems none of the Sutherlands wanted to risk offending the young king by dispensing their own justice after Sandra tried to poison the earl, so they kept her at Dunrobin all this time. But now with the earl’s grandson born, they want her gone, and Saer MacLeod agreed to take her. I’m on me way to witness the wedding but thought to stop and enjoy the evening with ye.”
“I’m right glad ye did, me boy.” The look in Achaius’s eyes didn’t match his tone. There was a cold, calculating glitter, one that made suspicion prickle up her nape. He caught her staring at him and waved her inside. She lowered herself and turned to go and find the cook.
She swore she felt Kael Grant watching her go.
***
“When is this wedding?” Achaius said when he had recovered his cheerful mood. He was partaking of the supper the cook had somehow produced on short notice. Plates of cheeses added some lavishness to the common meal, and there were sugared orange peels Moira hadn’t known were in the stores. Clearly the cook didn’t consider it his duty to tell her where the costly items were.
“Soon,” Kael replied. “Saer is so newly arrived from the isles, he’s making sure there are plenty of witnesses to his union. It’s a smart move, and me father wants to know more about Sandra Fraser. He hears rumors she was falsely accused.”
“I know she is guilty,” Achaius insisted.
Kael raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
Achaius nodded. “The bitch needs to be hanged.”
“Well, that is nae what is happening to her, and there was no trial. At least nae one the king would respect. Now that Saer has the lass, there is reason to doubt the entire tale.”
Achaius took a swig from his mug and then another before returning it to the table. For a moment, his eyes became calculating and hard. But he masked it quickly and grinned.
“In that case, I’ll be riding with ye in the morning, for I would like to know the truth.”
Moira’s belly knotted with unease. Her suspicions were finding more facts to support them.
“Ye’ve never been the type to ride all over the Highlands on errands of fancy.” Kael spoke softly but with a tone that was solid steel. “Is yer reason for attending the wedding because Saer MacLeod is godfather to the Sutherland heir?”
Achaius could have argued, but it would have raised more questions. Kael Grant was no fool to be brushed off with a chuckle and a grin.
“Well, I was just talking before I finished thinking. Of course me idea was to take the lass to see her sister. Ye’ll understand one day when ye are me age. Sometimes ye do nae make a lot of sense. But I knew what I meant. We’ll be riding with ye.”
Moira backed away and turned into the passageway that ran off from the side of the hall.
Sandra was alive?
She wanted to retch until Kael’s words sank in. Half the news making its way through the Highlands was rumor and tall tales. But if Sandra was alive, it was possible she was not guilty of trying to kill the Earl of Sutherland. Which meant Gahan had lied to her. That hurt. Just the thought that Gahan had no honor caused her distress.
He kissed ye, when ye were set to wed another…
She swallowed the lump in her throat, but there was still bitterness in her mouth. It was true. She was seeing only what she wanted to see in Gahan. Their encounters had all been motivated by his need to keep her from doing something he didn’t want to happen.
The knowledge stung. Tears filled her eyes, and she ventured into the darker passageways to hide them. Gahan was still all the things she loved, and yet she could not blind herself to the true nature of a Highland laird. He would protect his family’s interests first. That was what she was to him—a means to an end.
It was better to know. So why did it hurt so much?
***
“Lady Matheson,” Kael Grant greeted her at dawn. Moira lowered herself in respect, then reached under her mare to make sure the saddle strap was secure.
“Used to seeing to yer own needs, I see.”
Once again, suspicion prickled along her nape. “Did ye nae do the same before mounting?”
“Aye, I did. ’Tis a foolish man who climbs into the saddle without checking.”
Moira said nothing as she used a small box in the yard to help with mounting her horse.
“I hear ye are godmother to the Sutherland heir,” Kael continued.
“She is indeed,” Achaius answered for her as he appeared on the steps. He had on a doublet and a thick gold chain. For once his shirt wasn’t stained with food, and his beard looked like it had been cleaned. “Me wife is a credit to the Mathesons.”
The Matheson retainers brought his horse around and helped him into the saddle. He nudged his horse up to stand near Kael. Moira wasn’t pressed to the back of the column this time. Two retainers flanked her as they rode through the gates and remained near her as they crossed the countryside.
It was very strange how their presence brought her no comfort at all.
***
MacLeod land
“At least ye are pleased,” Saer MacLeod told Gahan.
“Ye grumble like an old woman,” Gahan said.
Saer’s eyes narrowed. Gahan got a glance of the hardened nature that had helped him survive as an outcast on the isles. “And ye are mooning like a lovesick calf,” Saer said.
“I’m trying to regain the woman I want. Ye’re helping me because ye’d do the same.”
“I’ve nae met a woman I’d risk so much for, but I admit I do nae like being told an old man can have what is mine,” Saer confirmed. “Yet we are brothers, ye and I. Both bastard-born and scorned by the wives of our sires. A tower is naught but stones if there is no family inside it.”
“How is yer bride today?” Gahan asked sarcastically.
“Very disappointed to b
e locked in another chamber,” Saer admitted. “She’s going to be trouble.”
“Agreed. But she is the only thing that would draw Achaius out with Moira.”
“And Bari Fraser to MacLeod land. Since Daphne is wed to yer brother, Bari knows he has no friends here. My loyalties are clear to one and all.”
Gahan looked down at the Matheson and Grant retainers filling the yard of MacLeod Tower. He gripped the windowsill until his knuckles turned white as Moira appeared and dismounted. Running to her would be foolish…but he still struggled to control the impulse.
“It seems things have changed for Lady Matheson,” Saer noted.
Instead of surrounding Achaius and leaving Moira to fend for herself, the Matheson retainers flanked her and made sure she followed Achaius inside the keep.
“Aye. That old man plays the jovial fool well, but he is truly a calculating knave,” Gahan said.
“And he has every reason to wish ye dead,” Saer remarked. “It’s a dangerous game we’ve set into motion.”
“Aye, but those tend to have the greatest rewards,” Gahan said.
“Or costs.”
Gahan couldn’t argue with Saer. The man was right, but he was also standing firm in his position in the ruse they were playing. “I will nae forget yer service, Saer.”
“I admit I am enjoying this charade, because men like Bari and Achaius are the ones who use women like our mothers without any regard for their feelings. Moira is but a thing to them. I am going to enjoy watching their schemes crumble.”
“It’s a good thing ye have inherited a title in the Highlands, Saer.” Gahan turned to leave the chamber. “With that sort of thinking, ye’ll never make a good Englishman.”
“Or an earl’s son.”
Gahan shrugged. “Do nae judge me father. I think he is allowing me to do this.”
“Because yer brother has nae shown up?” Saer asked.
“He’ll still arrive. Me sire cannae fail to take action or risk having it said Sandra was nae guilty.”
“In that case, I hope Bari Fraser does nae keep us waiting.”
***
“Ye are nae sick,” Norris observed.
Lytge chuckled and looked up from the desk in his sleeping chambers. “And ye must have suspected that yesterday.”
Norris offered no answer but came into his father’s private room, closing the distance so the retainers at the doors would not overhear them.
“I’m bored unto death,” Lytge groused. “Only English lords are meant to take to their beds. I’m a Highlander and will die with the sun on me face.”
“Then why are ye hiding up here?”
“Because I have to send ye after Gahan, but I need to give yer brother the chance to play his hand.”
Norris nodded. “I thought so.”
He sat down and began to shuffle a deck of playing cards. His father picked up the ones Norris dealt him and frowned over their edges at him.
“Ye will remind yer brother just how much I suffer for his cause.”
Norris sorted through his hand. “Is that the only thing ye want me to discuss with him?”
“Are ye talking about Sandra Fraser?”
Norris nodded and put a card down then picked up a new one.
“We both gave Gahan the duty of dealing with her. That means we must abide by his actions.” Lytge sighed. “I try to give both of ye the space to be men. It is nae always easy, but he has nae disobeyed me.”
“Aye. He’s on MacLeod land, and ye’re right about Sandra Fraser. I told him I had no stomach for it, but I confess I am wondering just how he managed to get her compliance. Sandra is a cold-hearted female.”
The wind blew in through the open shutters, bringing a warm touch of spring. The land was turning green as the new crops began to sprout. Norris played the hand, waiting for his father to make a move.
“Ye’ll go tomorrow. After I show meself. Let those who are fool enough to think me feeble believe I was in bed and ye were unable to make a decision without me.”
It was the sort of thing that kept the Sutherlands strong. No one really knew what any of them were thinking. Norris discovered himself quite pleased with it. True, he would have liked to be in the action, but maybe, just maybe, Gahan might be able to accomplish what all three of them really craved.
An end to the threat Bari Fraser represented.
***
MacLeod land
“Ye made no mention of locking me up again.”
Sandra paced back and forth when Gahan and Saer went to fetch her.
“Ye cannae expect freedom,” Gahan said.
Sandra tossed her auburn hair and fluttered her eyelashes. “That’s what ye promised me,” she said in a soft, delicate voice. The woman appeared fragile and forlorn, but Gahan knew she was no victim. He had seen his father at death’s door by her doing. The woman was a menace.
“Ye were promised freedom from Dunrobin in exchange for playing a happy bride-to-be,” he said.
“Oh, aye.” Sandra shifted her attention to Saer. She pouted. “It is going to be a bit of a chore. Ye are a savage.”
Saer didn’t take offense. He grinned at her. “One who will take delight in choking the life out of ye if ye try yer hand at betraying us. Among the savages on the isles, gender does nae protect the guilty from justice.”
Sandra looked uncertain for a moment, but she controlled her expression quickly. She reached up to finger her unbound hair. It was brushed out and shimmering down her back. Fresh spring greens crowned her head in a delicate wreath. Her robes were of green and yellow, befitting a bride.
“I have dressed to please,” she said.
“Aye, ye look the part,” Gahan agreed. “Now make sure ye play it. One false word, and I’ll do what me kin wanted me to do.”
Sandra didn’t look frightened or even worried. She brushed by him, fluttering her eyelashes and trailing her fingertips across his chest. “I told ye I would be of use to ye, Gahan Sutherland.”
She treated Saer to the same then exited the chamber with a rustle of her skirts.
“That’s an evil female,” Saer said. “She’ll nae do anything for us without trying to get what she wishes. It’s clear she is guilty of trying to kill yer father.”
“She is, and she’s unrepentant. But something kept me from ordering her to be hanged.”
“Now ye know what that was,” Saer said. “Fate works her will on us all.”
Saer followed Sandra down the stairs, leaving Gahan to ponder what he’d said. Was Sandra alive because fate was intervening? That seemed rather far-fetched. He’d always lived his life by the understanding that he made his way in the world through his actions and will.
Tonight would be no different. He descended to the chamber below where Cam was waiting. Steam rose from a basin, and Cam was making sure a blade was sharp. Gahan sat down and let his half brother shave him clean. Next, Cam worked on his hair. Once he was satisfied, Gahan stood up and stripped out of his Sutherland plaid. For the first time in his life, he put on a kilt from a clan other than his father’s.
There were men who would call him a dishonorable wretch for doing it. He didn’t care. Determination was blazing in his gut. The means didn’t concern him, only the victory.
***
“My sweet little sister.”
Moira stood stunned in the Great Hall of MacLeod Tower. Sandra swept toward her with a bright smile on her lips. Gooseflesh rose on Moira’s arms; it was like a ghost had materialized. Even knowing she was going to see Sandra hadn’t really driven home the fact that she was alive.
Sandra hugged her while Moira remained caught in her shock.
“Ye clean up decently after all. Bari was wise to see the possibility,” Sandra whispered in her ear before backing away to bestow a bright smile on Achaius. “Ye must be me brother-by-marriage.” She lowered herself prettily.
Saer MacLeod held out his hand, and Sandra went toward him. The head table was soon full, and the meal began. There
was music, and Sandra made a charming picture as she smiled sweetly and praised the musicians. She reached for Saer’s hand from time to time, stroking one fingertip along the top of his hand. The intimate gesture wasn’t lost on anyone.
But the bells on the tower walls began to ring. Saer held up his hand for silence, and two retainers ran down the center aisle.
“Frasers are at the gate, demanding entrance, Laird.”
“Me brother!” Sandra exclaimed. “How lovely. Ye would nae make him spend the night outside the gate.”
Saer MacLeod looked like he was contemplating just that, but he relented. “Allow Laird Fraser in with his men. No swords.”
“What Highlander worth his plaid gives up his sword?” Sandra demanded.
Saer shot her a hard look. “Anyone who wants to enter me tower.”
They heard the groaning of the gate as it was lifted. It took only a few moments before Bari was striding into the hall. He was covered in dirt, and his chin sported a two-day’s growth of beard. He froze at the entrance of the hall, staring at Sandra for a long moment. She pushed her chair back and ran to meet him. Bari hugged her close, but Saer followed his bride and offered Bari his hand.
Bari clearly wasn’t pleased having his reunion with Sandra interrupted. But he clasped the wrist offered to him.
“I’m happy to see ye will be able to attend our wedding tomorrow, Laird Fraser.”
“Thank Christ ye are nae wed yet.”
Saer stepped back. “Did ye come here to object?”
“Of course I did!” Bari shouted. “How long have ye known me sister was alive?”
“I never knew she was dead,” Saer replied.
Bari was taken aback. He looked like he wanted to argue, but held his tongue. “I suppose that’s true.”
“Ye suppose?” Saer asked. “Ye can take yerself out the gate I raised for ye if ye plan to insult me by questioning me word.”
Bari hurried to smooth over his host’s ruffled feathers. “I do nae doubt yer word. I meant I had forgotten how newly arrived ye are here.”
“It’s been a year, man.”
“An entire year,” Sandra confirmed. Her gaze locked with Bari’s, and his eyes narrowed.
“Mind yer outbursts, and we’ll get on well enough.” Saer turned to move back to the head table.