Page 28 of The Highlander’s Enchanted Healer (Spellbound Hearts #2)

“Gordon seemed to ken our every move,” Thor snarled, echoing the rage coiling in my chest as we thundered into the castle’s inner courtyard.

I was keenly aware that Allan would normally be riding beside us, but he’d been captured while ensuring our man escaped.

“Do ye think someone in the castle is spying for Gordon?” Thor’s question hammered in my skull.

“I do nae ken,” I admitted. “Before the battle, I would nae have ever thought that any of our clansmen or women would be disloyal, but ye were right in that Gordon seemed to ken where we would attack and when. We were lucky Allan was so quick to distract.”

“Ye do nae think Gordon will kill him, do ye?”

The crack in Thor’s voice made my teeth clench. “Nay,” I snapped, shoving down my own fear. Fear wouldn’t serve me. Fear would drive me to make impulsive, reckless decisions. “I think he’ll use Allan to get me to bend the knee.”

“Ye can nae do that!” Thor protested.

“How can I nae?” I growled back. “I can nae let Allan be killed, and ye remember what happened last time I offered a prisoner exchange!”

Thor nodded, his face grim. I knew Thor was thinking about Donnor, who had been caught in a previous battle with Gordon and killed by the man after he refused my prisoner exchange. “He does nae care about his men,” Thor muttered. “Only victory over us.”

“Aye,” I agreed.

“Then our only choice is to attack their holding,” Thor said.

“He’d kill Allan immediately if he saw us coming,” I countered as I pulled up on my horse’s reins and looked to the castle door as it swung open.

My breath caught in my lungs with the hope that Aria would sprint out to me, so when Alba came running, I was stunned but not disappointed.

I assumed Aria was close behind, but as clanswomen and men streamed out and started to crowd around us, I frowned and caught Fenella’s eye as she and Alba stood side by side waiting for me to dismount.

I wanted to see Aria. I’d had a strange tightness in my chest since the moment I’d left the castle without seeing her. I needed to see her.

“Where’s Aria? I asked, looking to Fenella.

“She’s gone to deliver a bairn at Clan MacLean with Isla,” Alba said. Her voice was quiet, softer than it had been six years ago, but I could hear her clearly.

My jaw dropped. Alba was speaking! “Ye’re talking!

” I vaulted from my horse and grabbed her.

She melted into my arms, her hug a fierce echo of the sister I’d lost. Only then did I remember she hated being touched.

Still, she held me tight. I opened my mouth to tell her of Allan, but I decided to wait a moment, fearful of who she’d react and that the news might make her withdraw.

I released her and set her back to really look at her, as chatter exploded around us about the battle and about Alba’s recovery. She was glowing. And clean. And—I leaned forward and sniffed her hair, and she swatted at me playfully with a laugh. “Ye do nae stink anymore.”

“I do nae,” she agreed. “I bathed in the loch with Aria before Roger’s visit today.”

Ah. Roger was the cause. “Is he still here?”

Alba shook her head, then shyly grinned. “But he will be back tomorrow. He rode home to speak to his council of elders.”

“What for?”

A blush bloomed across her cheeks. “Because he still wishes to wed me, and he kenned he’d need to enter into union talks with ye, and he wanted to ken the terms of our old betrothal agreement.”

I felt my eyes widen. “Do ye wish to wed him?”

Alba bit her lip but nodded slowly. “I think I do, but I fear I’ll nae be able to be a true wife to him.”

Anger and sadness gripped me for what she had endured at the Gordon men’s hands, but I also had hope, given she was standing in front of me now, talking and even considering wedding Roger. “I assume he asked ye to wed him.”

Her blush deepened. “Aye.”

“And what did ye say?” I asked, knowing already she had said something to give him hope or he would not have ridden home to speak to his council.

“I told him I would handfast with him, if it was acceptable to ye.”

I roared with delight, pulled her into another hug, then caught my breath. “Of course it is acceptable! I’m glad ye even wish to try!”

“I do nae ken how it will turn out. I—Well, I tense even when he touches me, Ross.”

I gave her a hug and then pulled back. “He will show ye tenderness, Alba. I ken it, and ye will slowly build trust with him because he has yer heart.”

“Aye,” she croaked. “He always has…which is why I fear I’ll be a disappointing wife.”

“Roger has waited for ye all this time. He will nae be disappointed if he gets to wed ye, I am sure.” She nodded and smiled. I studied her for a long moment, soaking in that she was coming back to us. “This sennight has been mad—yer voice, this turn in events…”

“I want to tell ye all about it, but where’s Allan? I want to tell him as well, and we should all—”

I swallowed, knowing I had to tell her now. I sent a prayer to the gods that she could handle it. “He’s been captured,” I said, the three words falling heavy from my tongue.

“Nay!” Alba’s whispered wail came with tears that filled her eyes.

“Come, Sister,” I urged. “Let’s retire to the solar to speak privately.”

She nodded, and we made our way through the throng of warriors and clansmen and women who had come to see us.

We strode into the castle, up the stairs and to my solar.

Once the door was shut behind us, and Alba and I were seated, each clutching a goblet of wine, I told her what had happened with Allan.

“Ye can nae bend the knee!” she said, echoing Thor’s protest.

I ran my finger along the edge of my goblet. “I do nae see a choice. If I attack, Gordon will kill Allan, but if I bend the knee—”

“He’ll kill ye !” she said. “He does nae have honor.”

“Alba—”

“Nay!” She set down her goblet and grabbed my hands. “Ye must listen to me. Aria brought me back from the darkness, and in the light, I faced my memories and my guilt, and with Aria’s help, I released the guilt.”

“What did ye have to feel guilty for?”

“The day in the church, I saw the Gordon priest pour the contents of a vial into three of the wine glasses. I did nae say anything when I saw it, because, well, he’s a priest,” she said, misery drenching her tone. “It was foolish.”

I wanted to respond, but my mind was stuck on what she’d revealed.

The Gordon priest must have poisoned his laird, the laird’s brother and son.

And the only reason that he would have done that was to make someone else laird, someone he was either loyal to or being threatened by.

Given Ramsey Gordon had been the only one in line left to be laird, that must have been whom the priest was either loyal to or threatened by.

Would this be enough proof for the king?

No, likely not. Gordon would claim Alba was making it up, and the king may well believe him, and all that time, Allan’s life would be at stake.

So, unless I had proof that could not be refuted, I had to bend the knee or—

An idea hit me: I would trade myself for my brother.

Gordon was conceited enough that he’d believe he could easily defeat my clan with me gone, but I would gain time for Allan and Thor to prepare an attack. Would Gordon kill me? Likely.

“Ross, do ye blame me?” Alba asked.

I snapped my gaze to her. “Nay! Nay! I’m just thinking how best to proceed.” I then quickly told Alba of my plan.

She glared at me. “Yer plan can nae be to give yer life for Allan’s! Gordon will kill ye!”

“Better me than Allan.”

“Nay, Brother!” she said, horror underlying her words. “Better nae either of ye. Mayhap, ye must bend the knee.”

“Nay. I thought that at first, too, but I will nae put our clan under Gordon’s rule and—”

“How can ye just talk so calmly about yer possible death?” Alba asked.

“I owe this,” I said, because it was true. “I failed to protect ye. And Mama and Papa.” My voice broke. “My selfishness, my irresponsibility cost so much.”

“Aye, ye were selfish and foolish and made a mistake, but ye have atoned. And now ye are being selfish again!”

Her words struck a chord deeper than any blade. “How?” I demanded, feeling my temper stir.

Alba’s face was red, and she narrowed her eyes at me. “Ye will leave Aria all alone. Who will protect her? Who will ever love her as ye do?”

I recoiled. “What? Do nae be ridiculous.” But her words had a strange effect on me. My chest tightened, and it felt as if a storm were rising inside me.

“I have seen ye watching her. Ye stare with a hunger that is nae simply desire. ’Tis the fire of yearning, to be certain, but ye have a softness in yer eyes when ye look at her as well, and I ken ye, Brother.

I have nae forgotten how ye were with the lasses.

Nae ever have I seen ye look at a lass with that softness.

Ye love her. But ye have held yerself back because of yer vow.

Yer guilt. I am going to be all right now.

And love will nae prevent ye from seeking and obtaining vengeance.

Aria is strong and can help ye rather than hinder ye. ”

I could not speak. My tongue was frozen with realization.

I did love Aria. She had breached my defenses without even trying.

Her face, her laugher, her eyes—everything about her haunted me in my waking hours and in my dreams. I looked forward to seeing her every day, and I had to fight against not touching her, not thinking of a future with her.

Alba looked at me with knowing eyes, and she took my hand and squeezed it.

“Life is fragile, Ross. Ye do nae ken when a day will be yer last or Aria’s last. Ye can nae wait, because the chance to be together may be stolen at any moment, and that, Brother, is something, I fear ye would nae ever recover from. ”

I inhaled slowly as my thoughts turned. “Ye’re right,” I finally said. “I do love her.”

Alba grinned. “What will ye do?”

Before I could think about how to answer, a knock came at the solar door. “Laird.”