Amanda Scott (14 page)

Her hands rested lightly at his waist now. Her tongue began to dance with his, and he knew her attention was engaged. He began searching for her laces.

Hearing a sound from the direction of the hall, and aware that guardsmen were about, although none stood in plain sight, he broke away, inwardly cursing the complexities of female dress as much as the interruption.

“Someone has come out,” she said quietly. “I think it is Niall.”

“Fiend seize that man!”

She chuckled but said, “We must go back in. It would never do for him to find us like this. Come this way, through this passage to the terrace. Then it will appear as though we merely strolled to the chapel and back.”

“You seem mighty experienced in the ways of deception, my lass,” he said as he followed her. “Have you slipped away to kiss many men like this?”

With laughter in her voice, she said, “I shall keep my own counsel on that.”

Quickening his step, he caught her arm and pulled her to face him.

“Will you indeed?”

It was too dark in the passageway to read her expression, but she said calmly, “Art angry, sir? You have no right to question me so.”

“Not yet,” he said, “but Alasdair Stewart does not deserve you, lass, and I swear to you by all I keep holy that he shall not have you.”

The fierce words sent a thrill through Mairi’s body, but she said, “We must go now, sir, and quickly. Those voices are nearer.”

“Very well,” Lachlan replied, “but I shall not change my mind.”

She was glad she had not admitted that except for relatives and friends, in greeting or farewell, he was the only man she had kissed. She hoped he would kiss her again, but he did not, and they hurried through the passage to the terrace.

His words had been wonderful to hear, and his purposeful tone delightful, but she set no store by any of it. However wily he might be, he was no match for the Lord of the Isles, who was far too powerful and utterly set on marrying her to Alasdair. Even if by some miracle of God, the Fates, or the wee folk, MacDonald should change his mind, her grandfather Robert the Steward would not.

He and her father had frequently discussed the need to unify and centralize power in Scotland, and to do that Robert needed support from the Isles. Her marriage to Alasdair would do much to solidify that support. Her marriage to a member of Clan Gillean, learned or not, would accomplish nothing useful.

As they emerged onto the green, two figures approached them.

“Who goes there?” a voice called.

Recognizing it, Mairi said clearly, “’Tis I, Niall. Did you fear an enemy had somehow managed to invade Finlaggan?”

“You should not be out here alone,” Niall Mackinnon said sternly.

“I’m not alone,” she said, stifling a jolt of the guilty, childish fear he could so easily rouse in her. “The hall grew too warm and smoky, and I craved fresh air.”

“His grace will not be pleased when I tell him that you came out here with only that fellow as escort,” Niall said.

“You need not tell him, for I mean to do so myself,” Mairi said, “and he will not thank you, sir, for interfering in what can be only our concern.”

To his credit, Niall did not debate the point, and she was glad, because he retained a strong tendency to treat her as if she were still a child and he a second father or favored uncle. He had often said that he cared as much for her as for any of his own family, and had been part of her life for as long as she could remember. Nonetheless, she resented his habit of telling her what to do and how to behave. The fact was that he was not a family member, and he had become a distinct annoyance.

“You may leave us now, lad,” he said tersely to Lachlan. “I will escort her ladyship back to the great hall.”

“Don’t be a fool, Mackinnon,” Lachlan said lazily. “If your purpose is to protect her ladyship’s reputation, you will hardly do so by making such a point of rescuing her from my clutches. That will serve only to suggest that she is not to be trusted in any man’s company, including your own.”

“How dare you!” Niall snapped.

“Peace, Niall,” Mairi said, managing a light laugh despite the fact that her heart had leaped into her mouth at the sudden tension between the two men. “You know he is right, sir. If you interfere every time I stop to speak to a man, what will people think, if not exactly what he says? I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, I promise you. Or do you honestly believe Lachlan Lubanach is such a villain that he would try to abduct me from Finlaggan, or worse?”

“Nay, lass, and I beg pardon if I have offended you. But in truth, I do believe that you should not trust this man. He has come here only to wheedle his way into your father’s good opinion and benefit from his generous nature.”

“So you think my father is a fool, too, do you?” Mairi inquired gently but with a distinct edge to her voice.

“Never!”

“Then take care what you say, Niall. Lachlan Lubanach and his brother are here as official councilors and ambassadors from the chief of Clan Gillean. See that you treat them with the same respect that we accord to all of his grace’s guests.”

Niall’s lips tightened, but he said only, “Yes, my lady. Good night, my lady.”

He and his slim, dark-haired companion, whom Mairi had barely noted but saw now was Gil Dowell, turned back toward the hall, and strode briskly away.

She and Lachlan strolled after them in silence for a time before she said ruefully, “I should not have spoken so sharply to him.”

“No,” he said. “It was unwise.”

A sudden ache in her throat stunned her with the realization that she had wanted to impress him.

“I’ll admit,” he went on easily, “that it delighted me to hear you take the wind out of that puffed-up rooster, but I should advise you in future to issue your rebukes in a more private manner.”

“He made me angry.”

“Aye, and that was another mistake.”

She managed a smile as she said, “Aye, it was, for I’ve a fearsome temper when it’s roused.”

“Thank you for warning me of it, but that is not what I meant.”

“No?”

“Nay, lass. The mistake was not his but yours, in allowing your temper to govern your actions. One rarely gains ground by letting emotions point the way.”

“Do you never give way to yours?”

“Never,” he said firmly. “At least, never since I grew old enough to understand the consequences, which are rarely what one hopes they will be.”

“Oh.”

“If you’ll agree not to snap my head off, I’ll offer another bit of advice.”

“What?”

“You should apologize to him.”

“I don’t want to, but I suppose you are right,” she agreed with a sigh. “It was unkind of me to take him to task in front of Gil Dowell—or you—particularly when he was only trying to protect me.”

“Nonsense, that man is an interfering nuisance who cares about nothing that does not increase his own power or position. You should apologize to him only because it will disarm him and give you the advantage of having behaved well.”

“He did not behave well, did he?”

“No, for he can scarcely fear that you are at any risk here amidst your own people and your father’s guardsmen. He meant only to insult me, which he has attempted to do at every turn since my brother and I arrived.”

“But why?”

“I am not entirely sure. He and my father clash some, because both want to control more land on the Isle of Mull, but Mackinnon has taken it to extremes here.”

“He told me that you have a reputation for knowing everything that goes on in Scotland,” Mairi said thoughtfully. “Mayhap he fears you are here to spy on us.”

“Then he is twice the fool I’ve thought him. If I acquire information easily, it is because, over the years, my father has fostered many sons of noble families at Seil and I maintain contact with them all. But his grace is welcome to share in any knowledge that I possess. We of Clan Gillean are loyal to our liege lord.”

“But surely Niall does not dislike you for no reason at all.”

“Hector believes he is jealous because the other men here for the Council of the Isles have taken kindly to us. Our popularity makes him envious, Hector says. ’Tis true that Mackinnon seemed to take us in dislike from the first, but you may have hit upon the reason for that,” he added thoughtfully. “Although he’d be wrong to think we’d do aught to harm his grace or the Lordship, he may still suspect such things. ’Twould be unwise of me, at least, to discount that possibility.”

That he had heeded and accepted her comments gave her a warm feeling, and she would have liked to pursue the conversation, but as they approached the steps to the hall, MacDonald and Lady Margaret appeared in the doorway.

“There you are, daughter,” MacDonald said cheerfully. “We wondered where you had gone. ’Twas kind of you, lad, to look after her.”

“It was my pleasure, your grace,” Lachlan said lightly. “I trust that my brother has ceased sullying everyone’s ears with his bawdy songs by now.”

“Hector Reaganach is a most entertaining minstrel,” Lady Margaret said, smiling. “His music gives us all great pleasure.”

“I shall relay your compliments to him, my lady,” Lachlan said with a graceful bow. “They will gratify him immensely.”

“Good night, sir,” Mairi said.

“Sleep well, my lady,” he said with a look that warmed her to her toes.

“Well, lass, did you tell that young man what I said?” MacDonald demanded as they walked back to the laird’s tower.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. He seems to have taken it well enough, which is just as I’d expected, since he seems both sensible and loyal.”

“He is certainly loyal to you, sir,” Mairi agreed. She was not certain that she could say as much for Lachlan’s being sensible. In fact, she decided, her lips still burning from his kisses, she rather hoped he would not be.

Chapter 8

L
achlan entered the great hall to find most folks departing and Hector flirting with a maidservant. The lass was attempting to gather up dirty mugs and goblets but seemed entirely willing to endure his blandishments.

Suppressing a smile at the familiar sight, Lachlan gestured to him to join him near the fire. It had grown chilly outside, but he had not realized he was cold until he had come in. He hoped that the lass had been warm enough, although he doubted that she would complain of the cold. She did not seem to be one to coddle herself.

“You found your way back,” Hector said, clapping him on the back hard enough to make him brace himself, then adding in an undertone, “I’ve been seeking information, but most folk claim cloudy memories with regard to the dead lass. One of the few things they agree on is that she left after Godfrey’s party did and wasn’t seen again until Ewan Beton came upon her body at Loch Gruinart whilst fishing.”

“Lady Mairi is certain someone killed her, and I agree,” Lachlan said, explaining what she had said at Loch Gruinart about the cliffs.

“But Elma’s husband was with Godfrey both going and coming,” Hector said. “That much is also agreed to by all, so I don’t see what opportunity he had to kill her, unless he persuaded someone to do it for him.”

“Unlikely that he’d trust anyone else with such a plan,” Lachlan said.

“I agree. I do have some other notions I want to discuss, but I’d given up looking for you. Thought you’d got lost.”

“You thought nothing of the sort,” Lachlan retorted. “I was but taking a stroll in the moonlight, a perfectly harmless thing to do.”

“Aye, because with your great wits, you’d do nowt to make it otherwise, such as seducing the beauty or abducting her.”

“I am not in the habit of abducting innocent wenches,” Lachlan said.

Sobering, Hector gave him a direct look. “You were away long enough.”

“We had things to discuss. Lady Mairi asked her father if he might consider favoring a marriage between us.”

“Nay then, she did no such thing.”

“She did.”

Hector gave a low whistle. “That’d be a stroke of luck for us, right enough.”

“It would,” Lachlan agreed.

“But stay, is the lass not promised to Alasdair Stewart?”

“His grace and Alasdair’s esteemed, almost royal father have discussed such a connection, but they have not yet signed any papers.”

“Sakes, do you expect to change their minds? What did MacDonald say?”

“That he expects her to marry Alasdair and not to cause any scandal.”

Hector grinned. “He did not say no, then.”

“You are learning the ways of our political world. Blessed be the intelligent mind,” Lachlan said with a smile.

“Do you think you can bring the thing off?”

“I know I mean to try. I’ve made progress, but the next step is the riskiest.”

“What do you mean to do?”

Hesitating, knowing that Hector was unlikely to approve, he said at last, casually, “I’m thinking I’ll give her father good reason to approve our marriage.”

“Marriage to a son of Gillean instead of marrying her into the royal family? What could possibly induce the man to want that?”

When Lachlan rubbed the gold ring on his little finger and did not respond immediately, Hector frowned. Then, quietly, he said, “I noted before that although you denied a habit of abduction, you did not address the possibility of seduction.”

“She likes me well enough, and if I can get her with child—”

“You are daft. If you get her with child . . . Faith, if you even succeed in seducing her, you’ll more likely end on MacDonald’s gallows than as her husband.”

“Nothing worthwhile comes without risk,” Lachlan said, as he had many times over the years. “Thus one must take bold steps to achieve any worthy goal.”

“She’s beautiful, I’ll grant you, but I’m thinking that no marriage, however beneficial to Clan Gillean, is worth risking your life.”

“Mayhap because you have not yet found the right woman.”

“Mayhap because I look for more in a wife,” Hector snapped. “You may have wits, my lad, but you are six times a fool to see wealth and political power as necessities of life and marrying that lass as your way to acquire them.”

Lachlan did not answer, for once giving his brother the last word.

The following morning Mairi awoke before dawn and knew she would not go back to sleep. Getting up quietly so she would not wake Elizabeth, and tiptoeing about in the dark, she found a kirtle she could put on without help. After tugging her boots on and throwing her crimson cloak over her shoulders for warmth, and to conceal the loose lacing up the back of her kirtle, she plaited her hair into two long, thick braids and went down to the forecourt.