Page 74

“Milady.” It was Everard.

She pivoted, raising her chin defiantly, meeting his gaze. His eyes were grey. Not blue as the sky as Maxwell’s.

Scowling, he shook his head. “I trusted ye with our plans. I allowed Maxwell tae convince me. Then I find out that, all this time, ye were planning tae betray us tae Sutherland.” He paced across the room, head down, fisting his hands.

“Wait.” Her heart was pounding so hard she was certain she could hear it and she placed a hand on her chest as if to calm the wild beating. Breathing was difficult, but she drew in a sharp breath, trying to gather herself. How could she possibly explain herself to Everard when everything must appear so bad to him? Yet it was easy to see how her actions had been misleading.

He paused, looked up, his face drawn and tight and a deep frown drawing his dark brows together.

“Speak.”

She clasped her hands in front of her, almost as if she was in prayer. “’Tis nay what ye have been led tae believe.”

“And ye were nay hell-bent tae meet wi’ Andrew Sutherland?” He gave an angry huff. “Ye’re naught but a traitor. Accepting MacNeil hospitality at Kiessimul, yet ready tae betray us tae our enemy.” He fixed her with a grim stare, narrowing his grey eyes. “Worst of all, was yer cruelty toward me braither, allowing him tae believe there were tender feelings between ye.”

His words were like pointed darts to her heart. She shook her head, her breathing steadying. Somehow, she had to make him understand the truth.

“Aye. I’ll nae deny I was travelling tae Canna to seek out Sutherland.” She turned back to the window, her thoughts racing.What can I say tae convince him?

When she looked at him again, he stood resolute, his arms folded across his chest.

“Yer men didnae allow me time tae explain.”

“I am giving ye time now. This is yer one chance tae give me the truth.”

She was trembling, her legs buckling beneath her. She reached a hand to steady herself on the back of a nearby chair.

He gestured toward the chair, “Sit.”

Grateful, she pulled out the chair and slumped into it. He paced over, taking the chair beside her and sitting.

“What ye dinnae understand is that me faither, Barclay MacAlpin, has been Sutherland’s prisoner since I was a young lass.” To her great relief he nodded slowly. At least he was prepared to listen. “When he encountered defiance, Andrew Sutherland murdered me older braither Gregory without a second’s thought.” She coughed slightly to clear the lump that had formed in her throat. “Gregory, who I well loved, was me only protector. Once he was gone, I had little choice but tae obey.

“Believe me, I have borne Sutherland nothing but hatred these years. His leverage over me has been me faither’s life and he has used me as his plaything and his tool, caring naught fer me loathing and disgust of him.”

She hauled in a deep breath and, unblinking, met his steely gaze. “I did the man’s bidding without question fer one purpose only. Tae ensure me faither’s safety.”

Everard nodded and she sensed a hint of softening in his attitude toward her.

Only brutal honesty now could convince him. It pained her, yet she spoke a truth that was both implacable and uncompromising.

“I’ve done much fer which tae feel shame. There have been times when men have died because I carried out Sutherland’s orders tae the letter. Ships were sunk, booty was stolen, hearts were broken. All of it tae appease Sutherland and keep me faither safe. I was under nay illusion. I kent the man was evil and I was prepared tae darken me soul fer him.”

Everard shook his head slowly. “So, if ye detest this man, why in the name-of-all-that’s-holy were ye so determined to sail to him at the Isle of Canna.”

She gave a short, defeated laugh.

“I never wanted to see the man again. I ken he wishes me nothing but torture and death fer me actions in escaping Dunrobin. But, in me heart, I believed that if I prevailed upon him fer mercy toward the MacNeils, then me death would nae be in vain. I wished him tae take me as a sacrifice on behalf of all at Kiessimul.” She shrugged, meeting his gaze, willing him to believe her. “In me wild imaginings, I hoped there would come an opportunity when I might take his life wi’ me dirk.”

Everard considered this, studying her, long and hard. Under his searching gaze she drew herself up, straightening her shoulders, unflinching.

“Ye may think ill of me, me laird, but I have thought of naething but ways in which this coming war between the MacNeils, the MacLeods and the Sutherlands can be averted. I thought long and hard about me decision and when I set sail me heart was greatly afeared. Yet I believed I was doing the right thing.”

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

“And me braither. D’ye care naught fer Maxwell. Did ye nae think his would be the next heart ye would break?”

That was the question she’d been waiting for. Dipping her head, she twisted her hands together, the knot in her belly tightening so that she gasped at the pain of it. When she looked up, he was studying her, his eyes boring into her soul. Turning to the guard standing at the door he snapped his fingers. “Ask me braither tae come in.”