The Highlander’s Destiny

by Wine, Mary

  “I’ll be certain to send ye a staff,” Orla raised her voice in warning. “Hand select them, I will.”

  The women immediately looked at whatever they were working on. The kitchen was suddenly silent except for the popping of the fire and the sound of a knife chopping root vegetables.

  “Cora, dear.” Noreen arrived with a rustle of her silk skirts. “Ye are truly a fine young woman to be attempting to see to yer duties so soon after yer wedding.”

  Cora snapped her head around to look at Noreen. The lady of the McKay clan had a sweet tone, but there was a warning flicker in her eyes, and the four burly Retainers flanking her backed it up.

  Cora felt a noose tightening around her neck once more.

  “Orla is very busy just now,” Noreen said. “Come away with me, dear. There is business to discuss.”

  “Aye, there is,” Faolan said ominously.

  Noreen jumped. Cora moved toward the doorway to see that the mistress of the manor had lost a great deal of her color. The McKay Retainers knew their job well, though. They guided Cora and Faolan out of the kitchen as their mistress collected her composure.

  They went deeper into the fortress. Walking through a wide passageway and under one of the towers and still onward until they reached another tower. Of course, it made sense that the laird of the McKay didn’t have his private apartments too close to the gate. They climbed up a wide stairway, all the way to the third floor before reaching a landing where two more Retainers stood watch at a set of wide doors. The men reached up to tug on the caps for their mistress before they opened the doors.

  Apprehension was prickling on the back of her neck, but Cora strode into the receiving chamber with her head level. Malcolm McKay sat there in a huge chair with ornately carved armrests. Tapestries hung on the walls, and there was a shelf off to one side with bottles of fine whiskey. Huge window shutters were opened to allow the fresh morning air in from an overly large window. Most windows were small to conserve firewood; this one would allow a person to stand and enjoy a magnificent view of the stronghold and village beyond its outer wall. The chamber was well away from the smoke of the kitchens or even the scent of the milk cows. It was truly the finest chamber, and no king had better.

  “Welcome,” Malcolm muttered after allowing Cora time to look around his private chambers. There was a smirk on his lips when she looked back at him.

  Faolan stepped up beside her. It was unexpected, and yet, Cora realized she found it completely what she would have hoped from Faolan if she’d been so bold as to consider herself anything other than alone against her circumstances.

  He wanted an annulment after all.

  The doors were shut soundly behind them.

  A moment later, Noreen turned and slapped Cora hard. Faolan reached out and caught Noreen’s hands as Cora gasped and stepped aside. But Faolan stuck his other arm out so that Cora was forced to remain behind him.

  “So quick to defend her, are ye, Faolan?” Noreen growled all pretense of the mild lady evaporating.

  Jealousy twisted Noreen’s face, and Malcolm didn’t miss it. He rose from the chair with a growl. “Get yer hands off me, wife, Faolan.”

  “With pleasure,” Faolan muttered softly. He looked directly at Noreen as he spoke, and no one in the room missed the personal message he was sending Noreen.

  Malcolm chuckled. It wasn’t a happy sound either, but one full of malice. “Noreen is a fickle jade, isn’t she, brother?” The McKay laird walked closer to Faolan. Malcolm’s lips parted to show a flash of his teeth. He looked at Noreen. “A true bitch.”

  Noreen snarled before moving away from the men.

  “However,” Malcolm raised a finger into the air, “Noreen is very good at making the most profit out of every situation. She is a blue-blooded mare. Bred from the finest stock and raised to run an estate. Those are the reasons why I stole her from ye, brother.”

  “And the reasons I thank ye for exposing just how callous her nature is before I made the mistake of wedding her,” Faolan replied.

  Cora bit her lip as the sting of jealousy went through her. He’d actually wanted Noreen and couldn’t wait to send Cora on her way?

  Malcolm shook his head. “Ye lack ambition, Faolan.”

  “I disagree, brother,” Faolan said. “What I lack is the will to darken me soul with underhanded dealings.”

  Malcolm opened his arms up wide. “Business is always about strategy. Life has winners and losers.”

  The McKay laird turned his attention toward Cora. Green glistened in his eyes, and he actually licked his lips before Faolan shifted so that he was between them. Malcolm’s expression tightened.

  “Ye are a damned fool, Faolan, for no’ consummating the union last night. Not only is her dowry likely to be sizable, but the lass herself is a prize indeed. The very fact that she is Laird Mackenzie’s only sister is worth the effort of bedding her. But the package she comes in would make it a pleasure to spread her thighs even in the bright light of day.”

  “She is not yer prize,” Faolan growled.

  Malcolm opened his arms wide and backed away from his brother. “It would seem the clean sheet on yer bed this morning claims she is not yers either.” Malcolm reached up and rubbed his chin. “Not that I plan to quibble with ye over that matter. I can see to filling her belly meself.”

  “Ye’ll keep yer hands off her.”

  There was venom in his tone. Cora reached for his arm to hold him back. Faolan turned to shoot her a hard look. Their gazes met, but there was a blur of motion that made them both turn back toward Malcolm.

  “Ye unfaithful dog!” Noreen screamed as she charged at her husband with a dagger held high above her head.

  Malcolm’s attention had been on Faolan. He’d never anticipated the need to keep watch over his wife. The error in judgment was fatal. Noreen crashed into Malcolm as he stumbled sideways. The long blade plunged into his neck. Blood spurted out as Malcolm screamed in pain. The force that Noreen had attacked with sent them both toward the open window. Malcolm cried out again as he tumbled right out. At the last moment, he grabbed a handful of Noreen’s hair and pulled her with him.

  Faolan lunged at them, his hands grasping for a hold. He caught a handful of Noreen’s silk skirt but still skidded the last step to the window. Cora was knocked aside as the Retainers, who had been outside the door, came to their laird’s defense. Faolan was leaning out of the window, trying to pull Noreen back up.

  One of the McKay Retainers didn’t stop to take in any details. The man pulled a dagger and slashed at Faolan. Cora lunged forward, shoving the man to the side with every bit of strength she had. He snarled, but they landed in a heap on the floor.

  “Help me pull them back up!” Faolan growled.

  The second Retainer took in the scene a bit faster. He went toward the window, recognizing the bright splash of color that was twisted in Faolan’s hands was, in fact, Noreen’s skirt. He was straining to hold her weight.

  “It’s murder if ye drop me, brother!”

  Malcolm’s voice came through the open window. From below in the yard, someone screamed. Cora took it all in as she scrambled to get up. The Retainer she’d knocked aside shoved her off of him so he could go to his laird’s rescue.

  But the delicate silk wasn’t up to the challenge of supporting two people’s weight. There was a sound of cloth ripping. The McKay Retainer tried to reach for his lady, but Fate wasn’t going to aid them. A collective scream came before the sound of bodies hitting the ground followed. Cora felt her insides heave in response, horror gripping her.

  Faolan turned, his face slick with perspiration, but he didn’t mop it away. Instead, he stared at the length of torn material in his hand. Self-loathing twisted his features.

  Footsteps came pounding up the stairs. McKay Retainers flooded into the room, their teeth bared.

  “Ye killed the laird!”

  “Do nae think yer relationship will save ye!”

  “Hang him!”


  “Faolan tried to save them,” Cora cried in Faolan’s defense.

  “There was a dagger wound on the laird’s neck!” one of the McKay declared. On the side of his knitted bonnet, there were three feathers. One of them stood upright, declaring him to be a captain. The rest of the McKay men were silent, confirming that they recognized his authority.

  “Lady McKay stabbed her husband after he coveted his brother’s wife.”

  The new voice was low and controlled. The men crowded around Faolan were confused for a moment before they realized the person speaking was behind them.

  Back near the door, standing quietly, was the priest. His face was frozen in disapproval as he raised a shaking finger and pointed at the window. “This was God’s judgment. His judgment comes and right soon…’”

  Silence stretched across the chamber. The captain looked toward Faolan. Cora watched the man struggle to accept the change which had just occurred. But a priest’s word was absolute. Even so, the man looked around, making eye contact with every Retainer in the room. One by one, they all nodded.

  “Laird.”

  The captain was the first to reach up and tug on the corner of his cap. The rest of the men followed suit.

  Their voices were low, but the weight they carried was extreme. Faolan’s expression tightened. He nodded once before he locked gazes with the priest. “Ye followed us?”

  The priest frowned. “Ye might have been intent on intimidating the women of this clan to bear witness for ye. I thought to hear their truest words when ye approached them.” He looked toward the window. “Indeed, I received what I set out to find.”

  The priest drew in a deep breath. He tucked his hands into his robe and faced the men of the McKay clan.

  “I will offer a pardon for both their souls. But they should be buried immediately and not mourned. Neither is worthy.” The priest turned and left.

  The McKays followed him, their loyalty still clinging to Malcolm and his wife. Faolan and Cora went along, and the priest began the blessing over the two people who had just been so intent on seeing Faolan broken to their will.

  Malcolm and Noreen were lying in the yard. Someone had straightened them, but there was no dismissing the fact that both were dead. Cora found herself venturing closer, unable to grasp just how suddenly circumstances had changed. Faolan caught her wrist, preventing her from advancing further.

  It was a wise move. Even with the priest to witness the matter, she and Faolan were deep inside the McKay stronghold. If the clan turned hostile, there would be no way to prevent them from doing whatever they would.

  Faolan stepped in front of her. Cora drew in a breath. It was a little reaction that simply happened in response to the way he sheltered her. She might have expected that her pride would rebel, but she couldn’t lie to herself.

  She liked the way he shielded her.

  “This was a crime of lust and wrath,” the priest declared. “Pray for mercy for their souls and take heed of the lesson the Lord has shown ye. To covet is to listen willingly to the devil.”

  The McKays were hushed. They muttered their prayers through their shock as the priest gave his testimony. When it was over, there was only the sound of the wind in the yard. Over two hundred clansmen stood still, uncertain of what to do next. The laird’s shame was theirs. The name of the McKay stained just as surely as the yard was splashed with the blood of their laird and lady.

  Faolan muttered a prayer, and Gainor suddenly appeared at his side.

  “Complete the burial as the priest instructed,” Faolan commanded.

  Cora held her breath, waiting to see if the Retainers would obey. A gust of wind tore through the yard, almost as if Malcolm was attempting to intercede from beyond the grave. If he was, the Retainers decided to choose the living over a ghost. They nodded and moved forward to hoist the bodies up. Cora felt her body tightening. Every muscle was rigid as those men turned to carry the bodies through the open gates toward the graveyard.

  So very quickly, life had changed. It was sobering and frightening. But Cora felt something else stirring inside her. A sense of justice. She watched the way the women in the yard turned to Faolan. There was fear in their eyes, and Cora didn’t pity any of them. Instead, she took note of the ones who shuffled their feet and ducked their chins.

  They were about to reap what they had sowed.

  Gainor stroked his beard. He eyed Faolan up and down before inclining his head. “Laird McKay.”

  Faolan tilted his head to one side. He pointed at Gainor. “My head captain.”

  Gainor sputtered.

  Cora enjoyed the moment until she looked past Faolan to where Malcolm’s captains stood. They wore hard expressions, but somehow, Cora didn’t think their dark visages were because of their laird’s recent demise.

  No, they were glaring at Faolan. In their eyes, Cora saw the discontent which might turn to blood on the floor. Their positions were at stake, and ambition was a vicious thing. It would strip civility from a clan. Faolan would need eyes in the back of his head if he planned to survive.

  Cora squared her shoulders and stepped up beside Faolan. He caught her movement, turning his head to look her way. She continued to look at the captains, and none of those men missed the warning she was sending them. The McKay looked between their new laird and the men who had so very recently held authority over them. Beside her, Faolan was sending her a hard look. But one side of his mouth twitched into an arrogant little grin. Cora turned her head, locking gazes with him.

  For a moment, she watched enjoyment glitter in his dark eyes. Something twisted in her belly in response. A sensation that raced along her spine and down her limbs. It left goosebumps on her skin and made her nipples tighten. Whatever it was, she craved more of it.

  So, she’d be staying right there beside him. Faolan McKay could just get used to her being his wife.

  *

  Burying his brother didn’t take much time. The McKays weren’t willing to cross the Church. Besides, there were plenty of men who saw Malcolm’s death as an opportunity to rise in position.

  It should have pleased him. Malcolm had never shown any affection for him, and the men who had voted for Malcolm had made Faolan’s life difficult at best. Faolan grinned in spite of the dire circumstances of the day. There were likely more than a few men sweating as they waited to see if Faolan had a sharp memory or not.

  His memory was sharp.

  Malcolm had stopped just short of murdering him. Now there was a solid truth. Faolan looked at the McKay stronghold. The place was suddenly more welcoming. As for retribution, well, he had no time for it. But he’d never forget the names of the men who had taken their ire out on his mother.

  “Laird.”

  One of Malcolm’s captains had spoken the word. The man was one of the younger captains. He reached up to tug on his cap, while Faolan recalled his face and the way he’d backed Malcolm when Faolan was being exiled to the clifftop tower.

  “I’ll get straight to the point,” the man began. “Ye need me at yer back.”

  “All of the McKay should be pleased to support Faolan as laird,” Cora spoke. “It’s fortunate there is a clear heir. It would be a shame to see the McKay weakened by internal strife.”

  The captain narrowed his eyes. “This is men’s business. And me aunt saw the sheet this morning, it was clean. So ye have no business in the affairs of the McKay.”

  Faolan stuck his arm out in front of Cora. It was an impulse. One that felt a little too good, and if he had time to contemplate his feelings, he might have questioned just why protecting Cora was so important to him. For the moment, all that appeared to matter was the fact that someone had dared to threaten his woman.

  “Gilmor,” Faolan recalled the captain’s name. “I’ll decide if Cora has business with the McKay or not.”

  Gilmor reached for the corner of his cap once again. Another captain had joined him. “As ye say, Laird.”

  “He’s no’ laird of the McKay just yet.” T
he argument came from Yestin. His beard was gray, and his eyebrows were, too. But the way many of the McKay Retainers turned to watch him spoke volumes about his standing within their ranks.

  “I did no’ say I was,” Faolan declared.

  The public agreement earned a sharp nod from Yestin. The bulk of the McKay Retainers had clustered around them, squeezing in tight to hear.

  “Cora Mackenzie is wed to Buchanan,” the priest spoke up clearly. “If there are three witnesses who will swear the union is not consummated, I can perform an annulment.”

  “This is not the place,” Faolan answered quickly. It was another of those instant reactions he seemed to have for matters concerning Cora. He caught a quick glimpse of her eyes widening.

  “Agreed,” Yestin said. “Let us leave the dead before debating the future of the living.”

  The McKays turned toward the stronghold. Faolan leaned close to Brawley. “Get the others and keep a watch on Cora.”

  “I need to be at yer back, Chief,” Brawley argued in a low tone.

  “Gainor will suffice.”

  Brawley didn’t agree. Faolan shot the man a deadly look. “See to my woman, Brawley.”

  Cora overheard him. She gasped. He reached out and hooked his arm around her body. One tug, and she tumbled against him. He pressed her words back into her mouth with his lips. Kissing her firmly while holding her in place against him.

  It was wrong.

  Or at least less than proper.

  Faolan discovered that he simply didn’t give a damn.

  *

  Brawley and Clement were outside her chamber door. Cora paced as she tried to decide what to do.

  Are ye hiding then?

  She stopped and pondered the question.

  More like are ye a scared little girl?

  That thought stung her pride. Yet there was no escaping the fact that she was in her chamber in the middle of the day.

  Cora turned toward the doors. If she’d been sent to the Grants to fulfill her contract, she’d have had to face up to the women of the household or suffer being nothing more than a mare.

  So, she wouldn’t be hiding anymore.