Page 47 of Tempted by a Highland Beast (Tales of Love and Lust in the Murray Castle #9)
T wo weeks later, MacKenzie Keep
After the ambush and the initial shock of the revelation that Rowena was still alive, Constantine and Rowena had ridden back to Duart. Only when order was restored did they turn their faces north again, toward MacKenzie ground.
Then, for the first time since Alpin’s death, they came not as hunted souls, but as laird and lady, called to sit in Council with her kin.
The MacKenzie great hall had been stripped of Alpin’s trappings, yet the memory of his false rule lingered in the very stones.
Rowena could feel the weight of history pressing down on her as she crossed the threshold and walked toward the great hall. Generations of MacKenzie lairds had ruled from that room, including her father, whose portrait still hung above the massive fireplace with its kind eyes and strong jaw.
Now it was her turn.
The long oak table that dominated the center of the hall bore fresh scratches from where Alpin had carved his initials during his brief, stolen reign.
Rowena traced one of the marks with her fingertip, her jaw tightening at the casual arrogance it represented.
He’d tried to erase her family’s legacy and write his own in its place, but the ancient wood would outlast his memory just as her bloodline had outlasted his ambition.
“Ready?” Constantine asked quietly, appearing at her shoulder. He’d dressed formally for the occasion, in dark wool and clan colors, but his sword still hung at his side.
Rowena straightened, smoothing the fine green wool of her own gown. She’d chosen to wear her mother’s emeralds today, the stones catching the light from the tall windows as they settled around her throat. Not as ornamentation, but as armor.
“Aye,” she replied, her voice steady. “I’m ready.”
The MacKenzie elders filed in with the measured steps of men who’d weathered many storms not yet certain the latest one was truly over.
Carson led them, his face showing something that might have been hope. Behind him came Alex MacKenzie, her father’s old war captain, and Craig, who’d managed the clan’s finances for longer than Rowena had been alive.
They took their seats around the table with careful formality, their eyes moving between Rowena and Constantine with expressions that ranged from cautious optimism to barely concealed wariness.
Constantine took his place at the head of the table, while Rowena settled beside him, close enough to offer support as his partner.
“Gentlemen, welcome. I believe we have much tae discuss.”
Carson cleared his throat, his gnarled hands folded carefully on the table before him. “Me lady, before we begin, I must speak fer all of us when I say how deeply we regret?—”
Rowena’s word cut cleanly through his apology. “There’ll be nae more self-recrimination in this hall. Alpin was clever and convincing, and he had weeks tae spin his web of lies. Ye acted with the information ye had, trying tae protect our people. That’s what good men dae, isnae it?”
The relief that flickered across Carson’s face was almost painful to witness. “Thank ye, me lady. Yer faither would be proud of yer wisdom.”
“He’d be prouder if we spent our time building rather than lamenting,” Rowena replied, though her voice gentled at the mention of her father. “Now, tell me the true state of our lands. I need tae ken exactly what we’re dealing with.”
“The border settlements are nervous, me lady. Alpin’s... methods... for maintaining order involved more threats than he had let us on. Some of our people fled rather than endure his rule. They’ll likely return now that word has spread of yer survival, but it’ll take time.”
“And resources?” Craig added gravely. “Alpin emptied the clan coffers tae pay fer his schemes. The gold he spent on mercenaries and false evidence could have fed our people through the winter.”
Rowena absorbed the information without flinching, though each revelation struck like a physical blow. “How bad is it?”
“Bad enough that we’ll need tae make hard choices,” Craig replied honestly. “But nae so bad that we cannae recover, given time and careful management.”
Constantine spoke for the first time since taking his seat, his voice measured and thoughtful. “Duart has grain stores we can spare, and our fishing rights extend intae waters that could feed both clans through the lean months.”
“That’s generous,” Carson said carefully. “What would ye ask in return?”
“Naethin’ that isnae already ours by marriage,” Constantine replied with a slight smile. “We seek a true alliance between our peoples. Yer strength adds tae ours, and ours tae yers.”
Rowena felt a warm surge of pride at his words, at the way he spoke of their union not as absorption but as multiplication. She reached for his hand beneath the table, squeezing it briefly before turning back to her councilors.
“We’ll accept Duart’s assistance,” she said firmly. “And in return, we’ll offer what we can: safe passage through our lands, shared intelligence about border threats, and coordination of our defenses. This marriage is meant tae unite our clans, nae diminish either one.”
The meeting stretched through the afternoon, touching on everything from harvest projections to marriage alliances for distant cousins.
But gradually, Rowena began to notice a change in the room’s atmosphere.
The wariness in the elders’ eyes was giving way to something that seemed like acceptance and genuine confidence in Constantine and her leadership.
When Carson asked her opinion on a complex trade dispute, he leaned forward with the same attention he’d once given her father. When Alex sought her input on defensive strategies, his questions carried the respect of one warrior for another.
“Is there anything else that cannae wait till our next meeting?” Constantine asked, glancing around the table.
Carson spoke up, his weathered face creased with something that might have been mischief. “Actually, me laird, there is one matter. The people have been asking when they might expect tae welcome the next generation of MacKenzie heirs.”
Heat rose in Rowena’s cheeks, but she met the old man’s gaze steadily. “Rest assured, Carson, Constantine and I understand our duties to the bloodline.”
Constantine’s hand found hers on the table this time, his fingers intertwining with hers in full view of the Council. “Our children will grow up in a world where MacKenzie and MacLean stand as allies,” he said quietly. “That’s a legacy worth building.”
The elders exchanged approving looks, and Rowena felt the last of her uncertainty fade away. As the meeting broke up and the elders filed out with genuine smiles and renewed purpose, Rowena remained seated at the head of the table. The hall felt like home.
Constantine waited until they were alone before speaking. “How daes it feel?” he asked, echoing the question he’d posed on their ride back from Duart.
Rowena considered, watching the last light of day paint the stone walls gold. “Like things are finally as they should be.”
She rose from her chair and moved to the window, looking out over the lands that were truly hers now. In the distance, she could see MacKenzie banners flying proud and free, no longer tainted by Alpin’s deception.
Smoke rose from cottage chimneys as her people prepared their evening meals, secure in the knowledge that their rightful lady had returned to protect them.
Constantine joined her at the window, his arm slipping around her waist with the easy intimacy of a man who knew he belonged there.
Together, they watched the first stars appear in the darkening sky, two souls who had found in each other not just love, but the partnership that would shape their clans’ futures for generations to come.
“What are ye thinking about?” Constantine asked softly.
Rowena leaned back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart beneath her shoulders. “Everything,” she admitted. “The work ahead of us, the children we’ll have, the legacy we’ll leave. The fact that just weeks ago, I was running fer me life, and now…”
“And now?”
She turned in his arms, meeting his eyes with a smile that held all the love and certainty in her heart. “Now I’m exactly where I’m meant tae be. With ye, leading our people, building something that will outlast us both.”
Constantine’s kiss was soft and sure, a promise sealed in the golden light of the setting sun.
Outside, the MacKenzie lands stretched away toward the horizon, peaceful and prosperous under their rule.
And in the hall where generations of lairds had made their mark on history, Rowena and Constantine MacLean began to write the next chapter of their story, as people who had claimed their destiny entirely on their own terms.
But there’s more…
Four years later, Constantine and Rowena walk back into Eilean Donan with their daughter in tow. Curious to see how they stand together against the fresh stirrings of war?