Page 13

STANDING IN THE hall of Dun Ugadale, before the dais where the laird sat, Rose blinked.

Surely, she’d misheard Iver Mackay?

She hadn’t wanted to attend the chieftain’s weekly audience.

After all the trouble between her family and the Mackays, she tried to avoid their broch whenever possible.

However, when she’d gone out to retrieve her family’s flock of black-faced sheep that morning and found them missing, she’d been forced to walk to the broch in the rain.

And when it was Rose’s turn to speak before the laird, he’d informed her that the sheep now belonged to Duncan MacDonald.

“What?” she croaked.

Iver Mackay loosed a heavy sigh. Seated upon a carven chair—a fur mantle wrapped around his broad shoulders, his white-blond hair pulled back from his face—he was an intimidating sight. And just as threatening was the tall, leather-clad figure standing to his right: his brother Kerr.

“He shouldn’t have taken them without informing ye first,” the chieftain continued. “And I shall have a word in his ear about that … but it is MacDonald’s right, Rose.” Mackay paused then. “After what yer father did.”

Rose’s pulse started to hammer in her ears. “But those sheep were all I had left,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry, lass,” the laird replied, his features tensing.

“But I have other ill-tidings.” He paused then, glancing at Kerr.

The two brothers shared a long look before Mackay focused on Rose once more.

“I was going to send Kerr out to give ye the news … but yer appearance now saves him a trip. MacDonald will also be taking possession of yer cottage and lands.”

Rose’s gasp echoed through the hall. Around her, she could feel the stares of the laird’s retainers and the other folk waiting for an audience with the laird. She hated being the center of attention, for many of the gazes upon her weren’t friendly, as if she had been part of her father’s plot.

“But why ?” she finally managed.

Mackay held her eye. “Yer father’s attack robbed Duncan of much. A flock of sheep and some land is little in recompense … but it is his due nonetheless.”

Rose started to shake. She wanted to scream at him, yet she choked the words back.

She wouldn’t heap more humiliation upon herself. Her pride was the only thing she had left.

“Ye have an aunt, do ye not?” the chieftain asked, his brow furrowing.

Rose managed a jerky nod. She couldn’t speak. Her tongue felt cloven to the roof of her mouth.

His expression softened. “Well, I’m sure she will take ye in.”

Rose already knew she would, yet that wasn’t the point. The Mackays were ripping away the only home she’d ever known and giving it to the MacDonalds.

Something twisted deep in her chest. Lord, she couldn’t believe she was about to lose her cottage and garden.

“I can send men to help ye clear things out?” Mackay said after an awkward pause.

Another wave of heat rolled over Rose. Hades, that was the last thing she needed.

“No,” she gasped out the word. “I need no assistance.”

And with that, choking back rage and grief, she swiveled on her heel and stormed from the broch.

On the way, she passed Maisie MacDonald.

Maisie glared at her as she walked by. “Someone’s got to pay for what yer Da did,” she growled. “And someone will .”

Rose’s breathing quickened. Eara had told her that one of the three MacDonalds who’d died in that gorge was Maisie’s younger brother. The woman had never liked her before, yet now there was hate in her eyes.

Dread fluttered up then, causing her belly to clench. How many other villagers would turn on her?

Hurrying on, Rose left the broch and made her way down the slippery steps into the barmkin. Hot tears stung her eyelids, yet she blinked them back. She wouldn’t weep—not until she was outside the broch.

Sheets of rain swept over Dun Ugadale now, and the clouds pressed close. It would be a wet walk home, yet Rose was too upset to care. Let the heavens open. Let lightning strike from the sky and smite her dead. What did it matter anyway?

“Rose!”

A man’s voice hailed her as she crossed the barmkin, head bowed against the rain. However, she walked on. It was only when a hand caught her by the arm that she was forced to stop.

Whipping around, she came face to face with Kerr Mackay.

“Satan’s cods,” she choked out. “Not ye again.”

“Please, Rose,” he gasped, out of breath from sprinting after her. “I have to talk to ye.”

“No.” She tried to twist out of his grip, but he held her firm. His hold was surprisingly gentle, although his fingers had locked around her arm, and she couldn’t budge them. “Let me go now , whoreson!”

Her grief and anger spilled over then. Blinded by tears, she shoved hard at his chest.

The bastard didn’t budge.

Jaw bunching, Kerr towed her out of the rain, and into a narrow passage between the granary and the stables. The roof overhung here, protecting them from the weather. An instant later, Rose found her back pressed up against damp stone, Kerr looming over her.

Her throat was aching cruelly now, and she swallowed a sob.

Was there no end to her humiliation? The Mackays had ruined her life—and now one of the men responsible was watching tears stream down her face.

Still holding onto her arm, for he knew that she’d bolt if he didn’t, the captain stared down at her.

The rain had wet his face and slicked his hair back.

“Ye aren’t alone, Rose,” he said softly.

“There’s no need for ye to go to yer aunt’s, if ye don’t wish to.

I’ve just spoken to Iver … and he’ll give ye a position here, in the broch. ”

Rose jolted. “What?” That must have been a quick exchange, for she had just left the hall.

He swallowed. “Aye, lass. Bonnie requires another chambermaid. The job is yers … if ye want it.”

“Well, I don’t,” she rasped, scrubbing at her tears with her free hand.

A nerve flickered in his cheek. “Why not?”

“I don’t want any charity from ye!”

“Don’t let pride ruin ye, Rose. This is yer chance to start again. Don’t throw it away.”

“Ye need to stop interfering in my life,” she cried, fury pulsing like a living thing in her breast, eclipsing her grief. “Haven’t ye realized that ye are the last person in heaven and earth I wish to receive help from?”

His blue eyes guttered. “Is this what ye want then?” he asked hoarsely, leaning in and placing his free hand on the stone wall, next to her head.

It was a dominant move and one that made her breathing hitch.

Even now, his closeness affected her, as it had that day in the kirk.

And as they stared at each other, a mask slid over Kerr’s features, his own anger rising now.

“For the whole world to turn its back on ye?”

“No,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just ye .”

His blue eyes darkened. “I’m not responsible for yer father and brothers’ deaths, or for the choices they made in life. Open yer eyes, Rose. None of them were saints. They died as they lived … trying to take from others instead of earning an honest living.”

His words sliced into her like boning knives, and Rose cringed back against the wall. “Release me,” she gasped. “Or I shall start screaming like a banshee.”

A strong emotion, one she couldn’t quite place, rippled over his handsome features, and the anger in his eyes banked. “I’d never hurt ye, Rose,” he rasped, letting go of her arm as if scalded. “And ye know it.”

Curse him, she did. But that didn’t mean she’d admit it. All she wanted now was to run from this place.

Seizing her chance, she rushed back out into the rain and sprinted toward the gate leading from the broch, passing under the metal teeth of the raised portcullis without looking back.

Breathing hard, Kerr watched her go.

God’s blood, it seemed that with every encounter he had with Rose, she hated him more. He was only trying to help, but each time he opened his mouth, he offended her.

Ye are the last person in heaven and earth I wish to receive help from.

Even in her grief, the lass didn’t bandy her words.

She really did loathe him, and no matter how he tried to mend their relationship, he just made things worse.

And to nail the coffin shut, he’d just gone and insulted her family.

Everything he’d said was the truth, but such was Rose’s devotion to her father and brothers, she wouldn’t hear a word against them.

Of course, sorrow still had her in its grip—and it had blinkered her.

Her loyalty was something he’d always admired. When Rose MacAlister loved, it was for life. But the other side of the coin was that she hated for life too. There was no changing her mind about him.

Kerr’s gut twisted then, nausea rolling over him, and he leaned against the wall, waiting for it to pass.

“Enough,” he muttered. “Ye have to let her be now.”

Rose hated him. It was pointless to try and help her.

Exhaustion pressed down on him then, and he pushed himself off the wall and walked back into the rain, crossing the barmkin, climbing the steps, and entering the broch once more.

His brother was finishing up inside, talking to Maisie MacDonald. Whatever answer he’d given the woman had disgruntled her, for she stalked away muttering to herself.

Wiping rain off his face, Kerr approached the dais. “Another unhappy conclusion?”

Iver grunted before nodding. “She’s vexed that her cousin Duncan has been given all Graham MacAlisters run rigs. She wants half of them.”

“And ye denied her?”

“Aye … I promised the land to Duncan, and I’ll not go back on my word.” Iver eyed him then, taking in his soaked clothing and wet hair. “Did ye catch up with Rose?”

“Aye.”

“And?”

“She’d rather kiss a leper than accept any help from the likes of me.”

Iver’s dark-blue eyes widened. “She said that?”

“No … worse.”

His brother shrugged. “At least ye tried.”

Kerr didn’t answer, and Iver’s expression changed, his gaze glinting. “Ye are soft on her, aren’t ye?”

Heat washed over Kerr. God’s teeth, if Iver had noticed he was pining for Rose, who else had?

“Don’t look so pained about it,” Iver said, reading his face. “Rose is a comely lass, and ye are of the age to find yerself a wife. It’s only natural ye’d be interested.”

“I’m wasting my time,” Kerr said roughly. “Rose believes I hounded her father … and made things worse for him.”

Iver’s gaze narrowed. “Ye didn’t, did ye?”

“Of course not. Graham MacAlister set fire to his own life, as ye well know.”

“Well, just explain it to her.”

Kerr snorted. “I did … and now she despises me.”