Page 7

Anger sparked in MacGregor’s eyes. Aye, the brash fool who’d welcomed him to Meggernie was but a ruse.

“I fought the Macleans in good faith,” the clan-chief ground out.

“And lost fifty of my warriors during that battle. We limped home, bloodied and defeated. Fifty men, Mackinnon … warriors who should be defending my borders from the Campbells. Instead, they died for a cause they didn’t even believe in. ”

“Aye, so that ye could get the alliance ye craved,” Bran shot back. “Don’t make it sound as if ye did it out of friendship for my father.”

“The agreement I made with him still stands,” MacGregor growled, his large hands curling into fists at his sides. “Ye will wed my daughter … or make an enemy of the MacGregors. ”

Makenna’s soft gasp followed these words. Danger crackled through the air now, and Bran was aware that they were all teetering on the brink.

Everything depended on Bran’s response.

His blood roared in his ears. God, how he wanted to just turn and walk away from all of this. He had the chance. The door was open. All he had to do was go through it. The night before, he’d lain abed, imagining this moment, savoring the shock and anger on MacGregor’s face.

But now that the moment was upon him, he couldn’t do it. His damn honor wouldn’t let him. What he needed MacGregor to do was get angry enough to release him from his bond.

Leaning forward, he placed his hands on the table between them, his gaze seizing the older man’s.

MacGregor’s heavy features had gone taut now, red flushing across his cheekbones.

“Aye … I’ll wed yer feral daughter … and ye can have the warriors and weapons that were part of the deal,” he ground out, even as his gut clenched.

“Unlike ye, I’m a man of my word.” He paused then before going for the throat.

“But it ends there. I care not if the Campbells bay at yer door like wolves … I won’t come to yer aid. ”

MacGregor stared back at him a moment before growling, “Ye offend me, Mackinnon.”

“As ye have done me … and now we are even,” Bran replied coldly. “Be grateful that I am honoring yer devious agreement at all.”

Christ’s bones. If Mackinnon didn’t stop yapping, he’d soon find his teeth scattered over the floor .

Makenna could see her father’s temper rising in a crimson tide.

The young clan-chief had insulted his honor, provoked him, and was now changing the terms of the agreement he and Kendric Mackinnon had struck. Their argument had now escalated to threats.

Blood was about to be spilled.

“Why would I give my precious daughter to a man who won’t name himself my ally?” Her father said finally, each word vibrating with fury. His fingers flexed at his side then, their tips brushing the grip of his dirk.

Makenna tensed, dropping her arms to her sides. She needed to be ready to respond too.

“Don’t then,” Mackinnon shot back, his tone goading now.

His lean face was taut, his silver eyes glittering with dislike.

Makenna’s gaze narrowed. Sly bastard. He’d been waiting for this moment.

Discovering that he’d been lied to was the excuse he’d needed.

“And I shall pack up today … and take all my warriors and the weapons ye need back to Mull.”

“That’s what ye want, isn’t it?” Her father countered. Like his daughter, he was no fool. “To worm yer way out of this marriage? Ye think if ye vex me enough, I’ll lose my temper and cast ye out of my castle?”

Makenna’s pulse leaped into a gallop.

How she wanted her father to do just that. She longed to be rid of Mackinnon. The vile-tempered man hadn’t even been here a full day, and already she wished they’d never met.

But she had to be practical. She had to think about her clan’s welfare .

They needed those twenty warriors and the cartloads of fine weapons the Mackinnons had hauled all the way from Dùn Ara. Things with the Campbells of Breadalbane had reached a tipping point, and those resources would make the difference.

“I am willing to keep my part of the bargain,” she blurted out before she lost her nerve. If only her voice didn’t sound so strangled.

Both men’s gazes swiveled to her, pinning her to the spot, but she held fast, meeting her betrothed’s glittering stare now.

“Ye were promised a MacGregor bride, Mackinnon … and ye shall have one. I urge ye to rethink yer hasty words … and to remember that an alliance between our clans doesn’t just benefit my father but ye too. ”

Mackinnon’s lip curled. His response made her long to leap at him and punch the sneer off his beautifully molded mouth, yet she throttled it. Instead, she kept her clan’s future planted firmly in her mind.

“Our feuding with our neighbors has taken its toll on us … but ye still haven’t rallied from yer defeat against the Macleans.

Ye need allies too, or have ye forgotten that?

” Color rose to his high cheekbones at this, but she pressed on.

“Aye, news of how difficult things have been for ye of late has reached us. Ye are alone in the north of Mull. Yer people resent ye for kneeling to Loch Maclean … and ye have struggled to rebuild yer strength.”

Moving forward, she grabbed the document off the table and waved it aloft.

What are ye doing? She was starting to feel a little lightheaded and sick. But now she’d started on this course, she wouldn’t halt. This was for her people. Her father wouldn’t be happy that she’d interceded, yet he’d thank her afterward. Ye hope .

“This parchment has caused enough dissension between our clans.” With that, before either man could stop her, she crossed to the hearth and threw the document upon it.

The dry parchment went up like a torch, burning bright for a few instants before crumbling to ash.

Turning from the hearth, Makenna found both her father and Mackinnon looking at her as if she’d just lost her wits. “It’s time to write a new one.”

“Makenna—” her father began roughly, his eyes dark with censure.

“We need each other,” she cut him off, irritation surging through her.

These men were like two stags in rutting season.

Anger had made them both lose sight of what really mattered.

“While we waste time arguing over this marriage, the Campbells bay like wolves at our door … and the Mackinnons of Dùn Ara are but a shadow of what they used to be. It’s time to take a fresh sheet of parchment and make a new accord … one that benefits us equally .”

“And how exactly?” her father rumbled. However, some of the anger had leeched from his voice. He, at least, was listening to her. Meanwhile, Bran MacKinnon’s glower could have cut through granite.

Drawing in a deep breath, Makenna thought swiftly.

“The MacGregors will send four lads to foster at Dùn Ara each year, and the Mackinnons will do the same. We will also start trading between us. The MacGregors will provide mutton and wool … three times a year … while the Mackinnons will supply us with salted cod, smoked herrings, and oak.” She paused then, an odd excitement quickening in her breast. She’d never led a discussion like this before.

“And we shall see it written down that each clan shall promise to come to their ally’s aid ‘without question’, should either of us ever call for assistance. ”

Mackinnon made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “Enough of this rot, woman,” he muttered. “My father already—”

“This agreement, ye shall sign,” she interrupted him, her pulse racing now. “In yer own blood if that’s what it takes … as shall my father.” She drew herself up then to her full height, which unfortunately was considerably less than his, and eyeballed him. “And I shall bear witness to it.”