Highlanders (5 page)

“Ye slept in my bed because ye wanted to be with me. Yer a passionate woman and we both ken.”

She could not deny either claim. “You deceived me,” she began.

He raised his hand, his face hard. “I did not plan this. I made no promises. Ye followed me into my chamber.”

She froze. And too late, she knew she had erred by daring to approach him in this room.

“But I will free yer sister when her ransom is paid, that is my promise.” With that, he strode to the door. Then he turned. “Will ye come to dine?”

She was ravenous but she hesitated.

“There is no point in starving,” he said, “or in crying over what we did. ’tis done. Why dinna ye check on yer sister and come downstairs. Ye can meet my father. My mother will be pleased to have yer company.” He gave her an intense look and left.

Juliana trembled. It was done. She had thrown all caution to the wind by following him into his chamber, and then she had acted like a common harlot. She might have hoped to free her sister, but, if she dared be honest with herself, Mary had not been on her mind once they had begun to kiss. Even though it made no sense, she had been overwhelmed by her desire for Alasdair.

CHAPTER FIVE

J
ULIANA
WISHED
SHE
had a looking glass. She hesitated on the threshold of the chamber she now shared with her sister and her nephews. She felt disheveled and untidy, and she worried her appearance might give her transgressions away. Mary would disapprove if she ever found out what had just happened. Worse, she would be disappointed. Juliana dared not consider how her brother would react, if he ever learned of her disloyalty. But it had been a mistake. She would never be so foolish again.

Juliana peered carefully inside.

All three boys were asleep in the bed, covered by one large fur. Mary stood before the fire, warming her hands. She turned when Juliana entered. “Where have you been?”

She could not claim she had spent the past hour or so begging Alasdair for their freedom. “I went to speak with Alasdair, and then I spoke with his mother,” she lied uneasily. She averted her eyes and was afraid she flushed. How she hated deceiving her sister.

Mary was quiet.

Juliana looked up. Now she saw the trencher on the chest, the plates there mostly empty. If Alasdair’s mother had brought their supper up by herself, she was caught in her lie.

“What did he say? Or should I even ask?”

“He said you and the boys will be freed when your ransom is paid,” Juliana said quickly.

“But what about you?”

Juliana started, recalling his exact words—he had not mentioned her ransom or her release. “Of course he will free me, too,” she said slowly. But as she spoke, she thought about the wild and shocking passion they had just shared—and suddenly, she was uncertain. Hadn’t she sensed that he had returned to attack Coeffin Castle because of her?

“What is wrong?”

She quickly smiled. “Nothing. I am simply...distraught...and I am tired, too.” She decided she was jumping to conclusions. He had not attacked Coeffin Castle in order to capture her. He had done so as an act of revenge against her brother.

“Maybe you should rest.”

“I intend to. Would you be disappointed with me if I went down to the hall to eat?”

“No.” For one moment, the sisters stared at one another. Mary added, “Be careful, Juliana.”

Juliana smiled and turned away. Her smile vanished as she went down the hallway. Her sister knew what she had done—she was certain.

* * *

J
ULIANA
DID
NOT
go into the great room. She paused just beyond it, staring inside, instead.

Alasdair was seated beside his father, and as she looked at him, her heart thundered. No wonder she had leapt into his bed—he was a powerful and attractive man. She could not deny it now.

He was eating with a ravenous appetite while his father spoke to him. Angus Mor looked like an older version of his son, a big, muscular man, his cheekbones high and hard, although his long hair was mostly gray. He wore the same blue-and-red plaid about his shoulders, pinned there with a gold brooch. Lady MacDonald was also at the table, as were several Highlanders, all of whom she now recognized.

Angus Mor was speaking, but then he saw her and became quiet. All conversation stopped instantly, every pair of eyes turning upon her.

Alasdair leapt up, so quickly, it was almost comical. “Lady Juliana.”

She knew she blushed, and heatedly; worse, his gaze was very warm upon hers. “I am interrupting,” she said.

“Nonsense.” Lady MacDonald stood and came around the table, walking over to her. Alasdair remained standing—staring. She took her arm, guiding her back to the table. “I brought Lady Comyn and her boys their supper. I wasn’t certain if you would stay with them or join us.” She smiled.

Was she also wondering where Juliana had been during the past hour? Juliana now avoided looking in Alasdair’s direction, aware of him sitting back down. But unfortunately, she kept thinking about the passion they had just shared.

“You have not met my husband,” Lady MacDonald continued.

Angus Mor did not stand up, but he smiled at her. “Welcome to Dunyveg, Lady Juliana.”

Juliana met his blue eyes, which were cool and assessing. This man was the Lord of the Isles and her brother’s worst enemy. Unlike his son, he felt no admiration or affection for her. She knew from the course of her lifetime how dangerous he was. He and her brother had been at war almost incessantly since she was born, although she did recall a brief truce a few years ago, in which they had rebelled together against King Alexander, over some grievance they had briefly shared. “My lord,” she said uneasily. Suddenly she wished she had remained upstairs.

“Alasdair tells me ye are fearless,” he said.

“To the contrary, I am very frightened.”

Her comment did not appear to affect him. “Do sit, Lady Juliana.”

Juliana sat down at the table, Lady MacDonald between her and Angus Mor. She faced Alasdair, and she stole a quick glance at him. He was staring and not bothering to hide his interest.

“How is the Lord of Lorn, Lady Juliana?” Angus Mor asked.

She tensed. “I would not know, I have not seen him in a week.”

“Of course not. He planned his attack on my son from Dunstaffnage, and now, he is on his way to Lochaber.”

She flinched. How did Angus Mor know that? “Do you have spies amongst us?”

“Did ye not have spies amongst us?” Angus Mor returned.

She trembled, for Angus Mor was frightening, in a different way than his son.

“Juliana would not ken if her brother has spies amongst us,” Alasdair said.

She jerked at Alasdair’s hard tone, and her gaze flew to his. He would defend her to his father?

“It canna hurt to ask. Ye should demand their names as part of the ransom,” Angus Mor said flatly.

“I’ll think on it,” Alasdair returned.

Juliana looked at him and then at his father. She hadn’t realized that Alasdair managed his affairs independently from his father. And there was some tension between them, some rivalry. But his father was an old man—he had to be well over fifty—and Alasdair was in his late twenties, or so she assumed. He was mature enough to lead Clan Donald now. He probably wished to do so.

“Why dinna ye eat?” Alasdair said, surprising her.

A trencher had been placed in front of her, but now she had no appetite.

Alasdair valued her as a hostage and he admired her as a woman. And they were lovers. She might be his captive, but he would not truly hurt her. She had no such confidence in regards to his father.

Realizing Angus Mor was staring at her, Juliana ate.

* * *

D
ONALD
AND
R
OGER
were running up and down the corridor, chasing one another back and forth with loud shrieks. It was midday, and the boys had been cooped up in the chamber since they had awoken. But Juliana and Mary rushed in an attempt to quiet the boys before the entire castle complained.

“Roger! Donald! You cannot behave as barbarians!” Mary cried, running after Roger.

Juliana chased Donald down the corridor. “We are guests,” she cried, finally seizing him by the back of his leine. As they halted, they came face to face with a boy of seven or eight years old.

He must have just come up the stairs, and he was staring coolly at them. “Yer not guests. Yer hostages. Alasdair said so.”

Juliana was incredulous. She knew he was related to Alasdair instantly, and not just because of his demeanor. He looked like a childish version of him, with the same dark hair and blue eyes. “And whom might you be? I am Lady Juliana MacDougall,” she said, her tone deliberately imperious.

“I am Alexander—the second Alexander.” As he spoke, she heard footsteps behind him.

Alasdair appeared on the landing. “I see you have met my little brother, Alexander—we call him the little wolf.” He smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Even ye must be kind to a captive—she is a lady.”

The boy shrugged and slipped away, hurrying back down the stairs.

And suddenly they were very much alone, and she was acutely aware of it, as she felt her heart racing.

He said softly, “Ye vanished so quickly last night.”

She had fled supper, with the intention of making certain she got safely to her own bed.

“Did my father frighten ye?”

She said carefully, “Yes, he did.”

Their gazes were locked when suddenly Mary appeared with Roger and Donald in hand.

She looked back and forth between them. “Good morning,” she said to Alasdair.

He smiled at her. “I hope ye slept well. Ye need not confine the boys. Ye can take a walk in the courtyard, or upon the beach, with my guard. “

“Thank you,” Mary said. She looked at her sons. “Please go into the chamber and tell Elasaid to get your cloaks.” When they were gone, she stepped closer to Juliana—as if to protect her. “When will you ask for ransoms?”

“I am sending a messenger this afternoon,” Alasdair said. “I am about to write the missive.”

“You are asking for ransoms for us both?” Juliana asked.

He smiled at her. “Why would ye think otherwise?”

She felt like kicking his shin. “Because I hardly trust you.”

“I am writing both Comyn and MacDougall, have no fear, Lady Juliana. I could hardly keep ye here without asking for a ransom.”

Of course he had to ask for a ransom. An even greater war would result if he simply held her captive, against her will. “And will you also do as your father asked—will you ask for the names of any spies?”

He slowly smiled. “As a sign of good faith, I will.”

Her heart sank. Ransoms took months to pay, or years, if they were excessive. But to demand the identity of any MacDougall spies would only anger her brother and complicate matters.

“Do you want to walk with us?” Mary asked her.

Juliana realized she was hesitating. If her sister were out for a few hours, she would be free to do as she wished.

An image had flashed in her mind—of being in Alasdair’s arms.
What was wrong with her?
They had spent an hour together. That tryst was not to be repeated. Alasdair might admire her, and he might lust for her, but he was a ruthless man. She had seen that herself. She would be deluding herself if she came to believe that he might sincerely protect her. That he might forget she was Alexander MacDougall’s sister. That he was any less ruthless than Angus Mor.

“Of course I will walk with you.” Not looking at Alasdair, Juliana turned and hurried away.

* * *

J
ULIANA
APPROACHED
THE
great hall and saw her sister seated at the table with her boys, Elasaid, and Lady MacDonald. , Alasdair’s brother, the little wolf, was with them. While the women conversed, the boys were in a fierce discussion, and Juliana could not imagine about what. But she smiled, pleased that the second Alexander was being friendly to her nephews.

None of the men were present.

She suddenly heard a great commotion in the entry hall, which was flanked by two towers. She heard men’s voices, booted steps, the jangle of spurs, doors closing, bolts being jammed. Juliana hurried to the end of the corridor and peered around it into the stone entry chamber.

A great many men stood there, all shedding snow from their furs and plaids. She had already known Alasdair was present, because she had recognized his voice immediately. Now she saw him embracing another man—a man as tall and muscular as he was, with similar dark hair, a blue-and-red plaid visible beneath the fur he wore. As she watched the two men, she knew that Alasdair was greeting his brother, Angus Og.

He and his Highlanders had clearly just arrived at Dunyveg, never mind the late hour and the snow. Angus Mor shouldered through the men to clasp his son’s shoulder. “Yer late,” he said, but warmly.

“Hello Father,” Angus Og said. “The snow is even worse in the east.”

Juliana could now see his face. He was so obviously Alasdair’s brother—he had the same high cheekbones, the same blue eyes, the same strong jaw, and even a similar mane of dark hair. “Did ye succeed in convincing Lennox to support Bruce?” Angus Mor demanded.

“The Earl of Lennox will think about it and he will decide in a week or two—before he meets Menteith,” Angus Og said.

“We will never take the throne for Bruce without Lennox and Atholl,” Angus Mor said grimly.

“Maybe I should seek out Atholl.” Alasdair was as dark. “I am impatient, awaiting his reply.”

Angus Mor scowled. “Are we being played? Do they truly think to prosper under John Balliol?”

“There is more,” Angus Og said, his blue eyes heating. “Richard de Burgh failed to attend the council. He sent word instead that he was delayed.”

There was a surprised silence.

Juliana’s mind was racing as she listened to them. She hadn’t meant to spy, but the information she had discovered might be valuable to her brother. She could not believe they meant to rally the earls of Lennox and Atholl, or that the Irish magnate, de Burgh, was also on their side. She knew she should retreat before she was seen. As she was about to flee back around the corner, Alasdair turned and looked at her.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

Instantly, Angus Mor looked in her direction, and Angus Og turned fully around, espying her as well.

Juliana stiffened in fear; Alasdair strode over to her. “Lady Juliana?” he asked tightly.

She met his gaze and saw the warning there. “I heard voices. Your mother wished for you to join her....” What kind of an excuse was that! She swallowed. “I told her I would find you.”

Angus Mor strode to her, his face hard, his eyes ice-cold. “Do we have a bold spy in our midst—yet again?” He turned to Alasdair. “Did she deceive ye, Alasdair? Perhaps she is not yer captive after all—perhaps yer
her
captive. Perhaps she has gotten ye so besotted, ye cannot see her for the spy that she is?”

Juliana cringed. She looked at Alasdair, who was dark with anger. “I am not her captive, nor will I ever be. She is no spy. She is
my
captive.”

“Ye had better make certain,” Angus Mor warned. In anger, he left.