Page 6

A movement at the end of the hall caught her gaze.

Duncan sat in the banquet seat of honor, his muscular legs jutting from beneath his tunic, his leather-covered feet resting on the table with casual disregard.

Her hands tightened to fists. The insolent wretch thought nothing of defiling everything he touched.

“You and your kind might favor the habits of beasts, Duncan MacRae, but my clan does not,” she snapped from across the hall. “Kindly remove yourself and your filthy boots from the head of our table.”

“It is all right, Aileana. I invited him to sit.”

Gasping, Aileana swiveled in the direction of the voice; a shock of relief thrilled to the ends of her toes. Robert! Both of her brothers lived. With a stifled cry she ran to him.

“You’re safe! But where’s Gavin? I worried that you might be on the field like Father…” Tears overwhelmed her, and she cupped his face in her hands. Robert smiled, his eyes tired, his cheeks still smeared with the dirt and blood of battle.

Taking her hands in his own, he gently pressed them to her sides and indicated that she should face the MacRae. She argued against it with her expression, but Robert’s calm won out, and she finally clenched her jaw and turned to the hated intruder.

Duncan remained in the same infuriating position as before, feet up and relaxed, seemingly oblivious to the affront she’d offered him and his people; he even rocked a little in the chair.

But when he saw that he had their attention, he eased his legs from the table and stood with slow, arrogant grace.

Though his gaze bored through her, he directed his comment to Kinnon. “When I told you to bring the woman to the castle, I should have mentioned that you’d be wanting to gag her. She has the annoying habit of harping like a shrew, with no wit for when to be silent.”

“You’ve no need to insult my sister, MacRae,” Robert grated.

“If she’d keep a civil tongue in her head there’d be no need to say anything to her at all,” Duncan retorted.

Aileana bit her lip until she was sure it bled, held back by the gentle pressure of her brother’s hand on her arm.

A familiar, impotent fire filled her chest. She wanted to wipe the smirk from the MacRae’s face and to put him in his place—preferably in the vat of pig swill out in the yard where he belonged.

But she quelled her emotions as she always had, masking them behind a blank expression.

“But insulting your sister isn’t why I’m here, as well you know,” Duncan said, nodding to two of his men near the door, and they exited, only to return shortly with another man between them.

Aileana’s stomach dropped at the sight. Gavin looked more dead than alive, half-standing between the two MacRaes.

Blood ran down his face to soak his plaid.

“I’ve a score to settle with your brother. I’ll be taking him now, and I’ll return to finish what remains between us when the deed is done.”

“Hold, MacRae, in the name of peace,” Robert said, taking a step forward as if to forestall him. “Take a share of what is in our coffers. Take that portion of land which abuts your own holdings. But leave Gavin with us. He’ll do you no more harm, I promise you.”

“His is a blood debt and cannot be satisfied with such things.”

The cold in his voice tingled through Aileana like ice.

As the MacRae started to exit the hall, she lunged forward. “Hold, please! At least allow us to prepare ourselves for a moment before you take our brother out to be slaughtered.”

Duncan stopped, suspicion clear in his stormy gray eyes.

“It cannot hurt you to wait another few minutes, man,” Robert added, picking up on her lead to stall for more time. “You’ve waited thirteen years already.”

With a scowl, Duncan finally nodded his acquiescence.

Moving with Robert to a place out of everyone’s hearing, Aileana took his hands in her own, almost too overcome with grief to concentrate on anything else. “Why?” she whispered. “Why would he want to harm Gavin so? It’s a cowardly thing to fight a wounded man when the battle is finished!”

“There is much you do not know, Aileana…much we kept from you.” Robert’s expression darkened.

“In truth the MacRae has cause for dispute against Gavin. Our brother joined Morgana those many years ago when she attacked his clan. You were but a wee lass, and I was away, getting schooled in Edinburgh when it happened. Can you recall any of it?”

Vague memories flickered in Aileana’s mind. They’d always troubled her enough so that she’d pushed them away when she happened to think of them before. Now she wished she’d been more vigilant.

“I—I recall bits of what happened.”

Robert cast a glance at Duncan. “We do not have much time. The MacRae wants our brother’s life as payment for the wrongs he committed.”

“But we cannot let him take Gavin to be murdered!”

“I confess I know not what to do,” Robert said, looking pale and suddenly ill-suited for the role of laird so recently vacated by their father. “Our men have been defeated on the field, and I—”

“I have an idea,” Aileana interrupted in desperation, her stomach twisting with the thought, even knowing as she did that there was little choice in the matter.

“What is it? Quickly, Aileana, tell me.”

She swallowed. “Perhaps we can establish a peace between our clans.”

“How? The MacRae rejected my offers of wealth and land.”

“It can be achieved through a marriage. A wedding between the MacRae and a MacDonell would go far in compelling him to be more reasonable about this.”

“Marriage?” Robert looked at her as if she’d grown a third eye.

“What self-respecting MacDonell woman would be fool enough to agree to marry with the leader of the wild Mac…” His voice trailed off as understanding hit him, and he pulled back as if she’d struck him.

“Please, don’t say you’re thinking of yourself , Aileana.

Bind yourself to the MacRae?” He was reacting as if she’d suggested he let her stretch her neck on the English king’s block—something she supposed might not prove to be all that much more awful than what she was proposing.

“I’ll not allow it. It would be shameful—especially for you, the laird’s daughter and keeper of the amulet. ”

“And yet our brother will die if you do not at least consider it.”

Aileana’s quiet reminder seemed to stifle Robert’s remaining protests. His mouth clamped shut, and he looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. “God, Aileana—marry the MacRae? ” he echoed, as if he couldn’t believe she was truly considering the possibility.

She nodded, steeling herself to see this through.

It was always the same; she would make a sacrifice for the sake of her family and clan, though even she had to admit that marrying the MacRae went beyond what she’d ever dreamed would be required of her.

Her mind almost refused to grasp the concept.

Yet if the clans declared peace, Gavin’s life would surely be spared.

She twisted to view the cursed subject of their conversation.

He leaned against the table, his arms folded across his chest, an expression of annoyance darkening his features.

He was a formidable man, tall and powerful-looking, with the gold-flecked hair and chiseled jaw that marked most of his kinsmen.

From what she’d seen, the MacRae was a force to be reckoned with.

Life would be nothing but misery with him, to be sure.

And yet their choices seemed few. If nothing was done, Gavin would suffer a terrible fate; married or no, she could at least survive. And there was a slim possibility that she might prosper as Duncan’s wife, if he could be convinced to take their bargain.

At that moment, the object of her thoughts clenched his fists and pushed away from the table’s edge. When he stalked toward them, she got the distinct impression of a thundercloud about to burst.

Her chance at prosperity suddenly seemed remote.

Before the MacRae could reach them, Aileana faced Robert again whispering her insistence that he accept her plan.

Revulsion almost choked her, but she reminded herself that Gavin’s life hung in the balance.

She would survive as the MacRae’s wife if he agreed to have her. At least she hoped that she would.

When Duncan reached them he growled, “Enough. It’s time to finish this.”

“That you deserve repayment for the harm that was inflicted on you is clear, MacRae.”

Duncan’s gaze snapped to Robert, uncertainty and distrust written in every hard, sculpted line of his face. “You’re agreeing with my claim against your brother?”

Robert nodded. “I know you were wronged. But Morgana was a dark influence upon the youth that Gavin was those many years ago. Because of that, I’m asking you to have compassion, though I would not ask you to go empty handed. I have a proposition.”

“Explain,” Duncan said. Aileana saw a muscle jump in his cheek, and she would have sworn that his gaze grew several degrees colder.

“A peace between our clans would help to undo the wrongs that have been committed on both sides. You were attacked most unfairly those many years ago. Today, we mourn the death of our chieftain, my father, along with countless other loyal and true MacDonells.”

Duncan clenched his jaw again, but said nothing.

Aileana watched Robert’s fingers twisting behind his back.

Sympathy filled her at the knowledge of how difficult this was for him; he was trying to forget his own concern for Gavin’s safety, while suffering the frustration of knowing that he was going to offer her as bait to their sworn enemy.

Pride surged in her breast. Her brother displayed strength of spirit in front of the evil tyrant, and it helped her to stand bravely beside him.

“I propose an offering for peace.” Robert paused, and then spoke each remaining word as if it was a precious pearl. “I will give you our Aileana’s hand in marriage in exchange for Gavin’s life.”