Highlander Unmasked (27 page)

Standing to one side of the column, she was tucked neatly from sight of the occupants in the room without seeming to be hiding. Only the broad skirts of her gown gave her away. But ironically, since Rosalind had chosen a cream gown embroidered with delicate gold threads that happened to match the décor of the room, Meg didn’t stick out too much. Good thing her mother had forbidden her to wear the orange gown again. There was something of the ridiculous in a grown woman having her mother pick out her clothes, but Meg had to admit that Rosalind had a flair for color and style Meg could never hope to emulate.

The derisive snort of her own name drew Meg’s attention to Bianca’s conversation. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but surely the pierce of that woman’s voice could be heard clear across Scotland.

“Of course he’s not interested in Meg Mackinnon,” Bianca scoffed, and followed with a tinkle of pretty laughter. “As if the most handsome man at court could really be interested in someone like her. She’s plain, far too serious, too learned by half, and she says the oddest things every time she opens her mouth. No maidenly modesty at all.”

Her chest squeezed, surprised by how much it hurt to be dismissed so easily. But it wasn’t the truth. Alex cared for her. She knew he did. She might not understand why he was holding himself back, but she knew that he was.

One of Bianca’s companions spoke. “But he certainly seems to have singled Meg out for his attentions. I agree that it does seem an unlikely match, but you must admit that Meg’s appearance has improved over the last few weeks.”

“There wasn’t much room for anything else.” They all laughed. Meg’s chest squeezed with each cruel giggle. “Even so, she can hardly be called a true beauty by any standards. Meg is merely a pale imitation of her mother. Mark my words, Alex MacLeod could have any woman at court. If he marries Meg Mackinnon, there is another reason.”

Perhaps Bianca’s cattiness might not have hurt so much if Meg hadn’t thought the same thing many times herself. Intellectually, she knew that she had many other things to offer other than her appearance, but for a short while—in Alex’s eyes—she’d felt beautiful. But Bianca effectively pierced the bubble of Meg’s newfound confidence. She cringed when she thought of how much she’d enjoyed the improvement in her appearance over the last fortnight. Bianca was right, Meg would never compare with her mother—even with her help.

But Bianca’s next words were not so easily dismissed.

“No doubt he’s after her land. Her brother is an imbecile after all.” Meg clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. She knew nothing about Ian. “If he can hold it, Alex would be the virtual chief of the Mackinnon lands at her father’s death. I know some men who would marry a horse for less.”

Meg’s cheeks burned at the cruel comparison.
You have more land than I do,
Meg wanted to shout after Bianca as she flounced away, her puffy skirts crinkling along the way.
Why isn’t he chasing after you if that is all he wants?

Meg’s heart pounded, hearing her darkest fears being bandied about court by the likes of Bianca and her friends. It hurt, quite a lot. Even knowing there was no truth to what Bianca said.

Alex wasn’t Ewen or Thomas Mackinnon. He didn’t want to marry her. He could have compromised her and forced her to marry him, but the fact that he stopped proved the honorable man he was. He wasn’t after her land.

But Bianca’s snide remarks posed a darker question, one that she thought she’d resolved. She shook with the wave of sudden self-doubt. Alex would never be the type of man to wrest control from her brother. He was ambitious and a natural leader, but he was no opportunist. He was honorable. Loyal. She knew it, despite what he wanted others to believe.

But had she just convinced herself of this because she loved him? Had emotions blinded her to the truth of his character?

No. Don’t let that silly woman get to you, Meg,
she told herself.

She couldn’t be that wrong.

Chapter 14

Meg and Elizabeth had just settled to finish some embroidery in the small salon that used to serve Queen Anne’s ladies-in-waiting when her mother entered with the most beautiful woman Meg had ever seen.

“Margaret, I have someone I’d like you to meet.” Meg tried not to gape, but the woman was truly exquisite. Long red gold hair, pale skin, and…Meg blinked disbelievingly…dark violet eyes. “Isabel MacLeod this is my daughter, Margaret.”

Alex’s sister-in-law,
Meg thought with amazement. They exchanged pleasantries, and Meg learned that Isabel and her husband, Rory, had arrived only yesterday. Meg was surprised she hadn’t noticed her at the evening meal last night. Isabel MacLeod was hard to miss.

Isabel had seated herself next to Meg at the small wooden bench conveniently situated under a large window with a splendid view of the summer gardens. After a few moments, she said, “I’ve been eager to meet you.”

Meg arched her brow. “You have?”

Isabel nodded, studying Meg with unabashed interest. “I’ve heard your name linked with Alex’s more than once since I arrived, and I wondered at the woman who had finally captured my recalcitrant brother-in-law’s heart. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen proof of it last night.” When she saw Meg’s confusion, she explained, “I was walking with Alex past the dining room when he saw you.” Still grinning, she said, “I only wish his sister Margaret could be here to enjoy it with me, but her first child is due any day.”

Meg’s cheeks flamed under Isabel’s close scrutiny. Her heart beat a little faster.

“You’re wrong,” Meg said quickly. “Alex and I are friends, nothing more.” No matter how desperately she wished it differently. But if anything, Alex had seemed even more preoccupied and distant since that night two days past when she’d overheard that horrible conversation with Bianca. The conversation that still weighed on her despite her vow to ignore it.

If only she knew what it was that Alex was really doing at court. More and more, she thought it had to do with the MacGregors. She recalled his anger when she’d spoken of their plight with the king. Had he turned outlaw in an attempt to find some justice for the broken men? Was he at court not for a nefarious purpose, as she’d first assumed, but for a heroic one?

Isabel caught Meg’s troubled glance. “Did I say something wrong?”

Meg shook her head. “No, of course not.” She frowned, remembering something. “I’m just surprised to hear you speak so fondly of Alex. I’d heard rumors—” Meg blushed, realizing she’d spoken bluntly again.

Isabel returned her frown, appearing to weigh her words carefully. “Whatever is between Alex and my husband does not change how I feel about Alex. I will always care for him as a brother. I want him to be happy. And I sense he has found happiness with you.”

If only it were true.
She didn’t want Isabel to see the pain her words had inadvertently caused. Self-consciously, Meg turned her face to the window, attempting to dry the sudden dampness brimming around her eyes with the warm sunlight.

“You love him.”

Isabel MacLeod was far too perceptive. Meg smiled wanly. “I’m afraid it does not matter. I must marry.”

If Isabel was shocked by Meg’s odd statement, her tone did not betray her. “Of course you must.”

Meg turned back to face Isabel, her face impassive. “No, I mean I must marry
now.
”

“I don’t understand. Are you already betrothed?”

“No. But there are unusual circumstances. I have promised my father that I will have chosen a husband by the time I leave court.”

Isabel’s delicate brows knit together across her forehead. “Is Alex aware of this?”

Meg nodded. “And he’s made it very clear that he is not interested in marriage.”

Isabel bit her lip, looking a bit uncomfortable, as if weighing how much to say. “I very much doubt it is that he is not interested…”

“But something is holding him back,” Meg finished for her.

Isabel nodded.

“Does it have something to do with the MacGregors?”

Isabel looked at her sharply. “Did he tell you that?”

“Not exactly.”

Isabel frowned, appearing to debate with herself about whether to say more. Finally, she seemed to come to some sort of decision. With a quick glance at Elizabeth and Rosalind across the room, she leaned in toward Meg. “What do you know of Alex’s past?”

It took Meg a moment to comprehend what Isabel meant. “Do you mean about him being taken prisoner by the MacDonalds?” At Isabel’s nod of encouragement, Meg continued. “He told me that he was taken prisoner after the MacLeods’ defeat at the Corrie of the Foray. Although he did not say so, I got the impression that he took the loss personally.”

“You’re right. Did he tell you that he was the acting chief of the MacLeods at the time?”

Meg shook her head no, but understanding dawned.

Isabel continued, “The raid happened while Rory was away. He’d left Alex in charge for the first time. Alex took the loss to the MacDonalds as a personal failure—especially the deaths of his cousins.”

Meg gasped. “I didn’t realize….”

“About twenty MacLeod clansmen lost their lives that day. Two close cousins of his from Lewis were brutally murdered right before his eyes.”

Meg thought of the haunted look that she’d seen sweep his handsome features, his burning hatred of Dougal MacDonald, and the inner drive that she’d sensed but had not understood. “Poor Alex,” she said, her heart breaking for him. “I knew there was something in his past that weighed on him.” The death of his cousins under his first command was what drove him so relentlessly. “It explains so much,” she said, shaking her head. “But it still does not explain his refusal to marry.”

“Doesn’t it?” Isabel encouraged.

Perhaps it did, Meg realized. If Alex felt there was still something he had to do. “Do you know why Alex is really at court, Isabel? Does it have to do with what you’ve just told me?”

Something distinctly resembling guilt flashed across Isabel’s stunning face. “I’ve said too much already,” she murmured dismissively. “But I do know that the loss of that battle weighs heavily on him. It changed him. In many ways, Alex is living in the past, trying to make up for his perceived failure that day.” Isabel looked as though she wanted to say something more, but she held her tongue.

“But what can I do?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to discover the rest from Alex. He deserves to find happiness. If there’s any chance that he can find it with you—”

“You two look as thick as thieves at a fair,” Elizabeth said, approaching them from across the room.

A quick glance over to Rosalind forced a smile to Meg’s lips.

“I see your conversation is as enthralling as ever, Elizabeth,” Meg teased, eyeing her mother napping peacefully in her chair.

Elizabeth laughed. “I think we may have missed the truly scintillating conversation. But I’ll wager I can guess what—or should I say whom—you were conversing about.” Elizabeth turned to Isabel and said, “Your brother by marriage has made quite an impression on my friend.”

“I think it’s mutual,” Isabel said, returning her smile.

“I think you’re right,” Elizabeth agreed.

“If you two are finished speaking about me as if I’m not here, I believe I’m ready for that game of chess you promised me, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth ignored her. “Isabel, did Meg tell you about the game of chess that she—”

“That’s enough for now, Elizabeth.” Meg stood up and playfully pulled her smirking friend across the room.

Meg knew that she was only delaying the inevitable. She’d hear all about her prodigious loss to Alex yet again. But the teasing didn’t bother her. Alex was a worthy foe—or ally, for that matter. She’d always thought of him as invincible. But in a strange way, learning about his past loss on the battlefield made him seem more human. The failure in no way diminished the man he had become, but rather explained it. The loss had framed his life. But had it overtaken it?

Talking with Isabel had only strengthened Meg’s belief that whatever Alex was doing at court, it was for good. She didn’t care who he was. Mercenary. Outlaw. It didn’t matter. He was still the man for her. She knew the truth in her heart.

But Isabel had also made her realize something else. She had to do something soon or she would lose him.

But what could she possibly do to show him how much she trusted him?

Though Rory and Isabel had arrived only yesterday, to Alex it seemed intolerably longer. He had been anxious to advise his brother of what he’d learned but had been forced to wait until they could ride well away from the palace to preserve the damn pretext of a falling-out. Now that he’d confided in his brother, Alex was relieved to have unburdened himself, but at the same time he was uneasy, realizing that the time for him to depart court was drawing near.

Rory rode next to him in prolonged silence, no doubt considering the ramifications of the MacDonalds’ treachery and King James’s insatiable thirst for Highland bloodshed. His brother’s reaction had been much the same as Alex’s: shock followed quickly by anger and resolve. The grim set of Rory’s chin and the tightness around his mouth told Alex just how determined his brother was to battle this last betrayal.