To Wed A Highlander Page 10

  Makenna nodded, letting him know she had heard his warning, but as soon as the thick crowd saw her they pounced. Brodie was pulling her through the mass, but everywhere she turned, there were questions. Who did she think she was marrying, an outsider and forcing him upon them as laird? Why could she not have married MacCuaig, a Lowlander who knew and respected their customs and ways? Did she regret her decision? Could she get an annulment?

  No! she wanted to scream. She had no regrets, that she would never get an annulment, and that Colin held more respect for each and every Dunstan in his small finger than MacCuaig ever held for a single man, woman, or child of his own clan.

  But she didn’t have to.

  A piercing bellow blanketed the crowd. Caught off guard, they instinctively squashed their carping and listened. Colin’s deep baritone voice was laced with command and promise.

  “I am now laird of this clan and claim Lochlen as my home. Alexander charged me with ensuring your safety and well-being and I intend to keep my promise to him. Any Dunstan who wishes to challenge me, let him come forward.”

  The crowd squirmed with dissatisfaction, but no one moved to contest Colin publicly. Near the great hall, the faces of several neighboring lairds came into view. This was not how he had hoped to establish relations and alliances, but he had no choice. This was the way it had to be.

  “My wife, Deirdre, wanted this to be,” Colin continued. “Alexander wanted this to be, and Makenna Dunstan married me so this would be. I am laird, and I will defend my rights as laird to any who oppose me. In return, I will regard any attack against the Dunstans—whether it be clan, army, or nation—as a personal strike against me.”

  Makenna watched as Colin moved through the self-parting mass toward the great hall. No doubt he would be spending the next several days in conference. Many alliances would now be gone with the passing of her father. Some, like MacCuaig, would refuse to support a Highland leader.

  A familiar voice rang out, this time aimed at Drake. “Drake, you are one of us. You should be laird, not an outsider.”

  Drake halted his long, lean frame and glared at the old man, his ice-blue eyes unwavering and unsympathetic. “It is time to heal this clan, Gannon, and save it from itself. I cannot do that. I give my support and loyalty to the only one I know who can.”

  Hearing Drake’s unswerving loyalty shook Makenna to her core. His voice was laced with the same devotion Colin had just used. My wife, Deirdre, he had said. Makenna Dunstan, he had said. The man had been kind to her, nothing more. Colin had what he wanted. He was now laird.

  Makenna entered Forfar Tower in silent misery. The loss of two men was more than she could bear.

  Makenna was rising from her bath when a knock on the door echoed in the chamber. Just as Colin had ordered, only her sisters had been allowed to visit. They had chosen not to.

  She finished securing her gown and opened the door. It was Camus. Makenna shrieked and hugged her friend and mentor.

  “Ah, laochag, this should be a time of joy and celebration for you. Instead, you must deal with your father’s passing. Laird Dunstan was a good and just man. He will be missed.”

  Makenna wiped away a tear and pointed to one of the chairs by the hearth. Camus relaxed on the wide, padded teak stool and examined his friend. His little warrior was trying to be strong, but streaks of recent tears were evident on her face.

  Makenna pasted on a fake smile and attempted light humor. “How did you ever get in? I thought Colin had barred the entire male species from my chambers.”

  Camus recognized the effort at levity. “Ah, your husband may now be chief of this clan, but we have a history.”

  “I saw the visiting lairds join Colin in the hall. Do you know how the talks were faring?”

  He shook his head with genuine concern. “I don’t truly know, but if they are like the crowd outside, not well.”

  Makenna got up and went to stand by the window. She pulled the tapestry aside and gazed at the great hall below. The crowd had diminished, but several clansmen were still standing about, obviously complaining. “My father would not be pleased to know his people were acting thus.”

  “Aye, but his last thoughts were of you. He was happy last night knowing you and Colin were married. It gave him great peace.”

  Makenna sighed. The time between last night and now seemed like an eternity. “I think he was. I’m glad he passed believing all was well.”

  “Colin will need you now more than ever, just as you need him.”

  Makenna shook her head. “Colin needed me to marry him. I’ve done that. I’ve even consummated the marriage ensuring that an annulment is not possible.”

  “Makenna! You cannot truly believe that. Colin is a proud man. He would never use a woman so, just to be the Dunstan laird.”

  Makenna looked up at the rafters on the ceiling. “He did. Truly. That is all he wanted. I was a means to an end. You heard him today. He still considers Deirdre his wife and me a Dunstan.”

  When word had spread that Colin and Makenna had agreed to marry, Camus knew something had transpired between them. Something much greater than a need to protect a clan. Unfortunately, she and Colin were still trying to understand the nature of their new bond when Alexander died.

  “I do recall what Colin said, and to whom he was talking. A crowd of Dunstans with fleeting memories who need to recall it was not you who first brought Colin into their lives, but Deirdre. He was trying to protect you. He has demanded that your sisters take on the responsibility of readying the ceremony. He knew the distress it would cause you, and he wished to shield you from further hurt. You misjudge him greatly, little warrior.”

  “Are Rona and Ula complying with Colin’s request?”

  “More like Colin’s demand, and they have no choice. Either they comply or leave. And both are still hoping to receive a stipend they feel owed to them.”

  Makenna rubbed her arms. “Good Lord, their hatred of him must be limitless by now. Does the rest of the clan feel the same?”

  “Aye, in some cases, but in others Colin is securing their trust. Already he has ordered soldiers to assist with the keep’s help. And when Drake brought Colin your father’s sword, he ordered it to be returned to your father’s side, claiming that he may be laird, but that did not entitle him to take what belonged to Alexander and the Dunstans.”

  “He said that?”

  “My oath. That sword is worth a mint with its gold and jeweled hilt.”

  “It has been in my family for almost three centuries. Malcolm Canmore gave it to the first laird of Lochlen.”

  “And your husband respects that.”

  “But if Colin does not take the sword, who will?”

  “Well, for a while your sisters squabbled over who had more right to it. Ula thought she did because she was older. Both came off incredibly greedy and selfish, diminishing the ill effects Colin had caused by ordering their aid with the funeral preparations.”

  Makenna turned from the window and fell into the chair beside Camus. She gathered her feet underneath her and finally asked, “Who won? Ula or Rona?”

  “Neither,” Camus said with satisfaction. “Colin declared it to be buried with Alexander.”

  Makenna threw her head back and sighed in relief. She loved that sword and understood what it had meant to her father almost better than anyone—except Colin. “That is good. It is the way it should be.”

  “Many think so. The decision definitely got the attention of most clansmen. Several of which are no longer open to hearing the constant cry for the new laird’s departure.”

  “Good. Colin needs their support.”

  “What he needs is your support.”

  Makenna shook her head. “No, he has Dunlop and Drake.”

  “It is not the same, and you know it. We have known each other a long time, laochag, and I love you like my own daughter. But when you needed someone, who was the first person you sought? Could I have been a suitable replacement?”

  Makenna stared into the leaping flames flickering in the hearth and thought about his question. Camus was someone she trusted without any reservations. Could he have provided her the same feelings of safety and comfort Colin had given her last night and this morning? The answer was an undeniable no.

  “You have Colin now,” Camus continued. “I know you find it impossible to lean upon anyone, and I know he is just as stubborn and independent as you. But if I can advise you one last time, learn to lean upon him and teach him to lean upon you. It will make you both stronger.”

  Makenna blinked tears of sorrow. “I wish it were possible, but Colin wouldn’t even lean upon Deirdre, and he loved her. And while we have called a truce, Colin doesn’t love me. How can I be something he couldn’t find with the woman he wanted to share his life with?”

  “You are not Deirdre,” Camus scolded. “Stop trying to be. Be yourself. That is the person Colin needs to know. I’ve known you both for a long time now. If you two tried hard enough, you would be surprised at what you would find.”

  “Be careful, Camus, or I will think you are talking about love. And you know, just as well as I, that love is not what this marriage is based upon.”

  “Not now, but it can be. Before you will be able to love anyone, laochag, you will have to remove all the walls you have built around your heart. It calls for immeasurable trust. It took me many years to trust my wife. I hope it does not take you and Colin so long.”

  Makenna sat straight up and looked at him, her eyes wide with shock. “You were married?”

  Since she had known him, Camus had been a bachelor who enjoyed being friendly with widows.

  “Aye, a long time ago. She died before you were born.” He paused and gazed into the fire, remembering. “I met Miriam when I was you
ng. She was bonnie and feisty and it was time that I married, so I did. We were much like you and Colin. She loved to argue and was fiercely independent. Each time I took it as an affront to my manhood. I never knew how much she meant to me until she became pregnant.”

  “Camus! I never knew that you were a father.”

  “We lost the baby, Makenna. No one knows why. For a long time the loss ate away at me. I was so focused on my own grief I didn’t realize my Miriam was hurting, too. One night she finally exploded, and it suddenly occurred to me that she needed me to tell her it was going to be all right, that we were going to be all right. We learned that night how much our strength came from each other. And whether you like it or not, Makenna, you and Colin are tied together now. He needs your strength. Once he knows that it will always be there for him, he will lean upon it. He won’t be able to stop himself.”

  Makenna bit her bottom lip. Tears sprang anew. For the first time in hours, she felt hope again. Colin had been there for her—at the altar, last night, as well as this morning. Even now he protected her from possible cruelty while she adjusted to the idea of her father’s passing.

  “I am so glad you came, Camus.”

  “Then I’m glad to have been here for you, my little Dunstan warrior.”

  Makenna rose and this time produced a genuine smile for her friend. “I’m Makenna McTiernay now, wife of Colin McTiernay, laird of the Lochlen Dunstans.”

  Makenna awoke the next morning with a start. Something was wrong. She wasn’t where she was supposed to be. This was her room, but it felt wrong. Like something was missing. Then she remembered. Not something—someone was missing.

  Colin.

  She had only spent one night with him and already his bed felt more right to her than the chambers she had slept in all her life. She wondered whether Colin had been glad of her absence or if he, too, had missed her company.

  Still groggy with a poor night’s sleep, Makenna found her wrap and put it on. She opened the door hoping to see a chambermaid outside waiting to attend her. Instead, two familiar faces stared back.

  “Brodie! Gorten! Lord, what a burden I am to you. Have you been on watch all night?”

  Both stared for a second. The light behind Makenna highlighted her loose hair hanging down around her shoulders and waist. Her pale skin made her green eyes pop with even more clarity and appeal. The guards blinked several times before responding. It was not good to find the laird’s wife attractive.

  Gorten raked his ginger-colored hair, hoping the action would clear his mind. “We took turns. It was no bother.”

  Brodie beamed a smile at her. “In fact we were grateful, milady. Forfar Tower is a far better place to sleep than the battlements.”

  “Well, I promise you that I won’t give Colin a reason to send you back up here.”

  Gorten could feel his jaw crack. “How did you know…never mind. Was there something you wanted, milady?” he asked, giving his counterpart a withering glance.

  “Ah, aye…I mean no,” Makenna replied, looking around the empty hall. A chambermaid was nowhere in sight. Once again, the staff was declining to help her. Pride kept her from admitting the dejection she felt by her own people. Makenna knew if she uttered one complaint, either Brodie or Gorten would immediately go and drag back a servant. Help was wanted, but only if freely given. She would continue on her own.

  “Just give me a few minutes, and then I will be ready,” Makenna said, closing the door.

  Brodie refused to shrink under Gorten’s harsh stare. “You were staring, too, Gorten. Do not think I was not aware of your appreciative appraisal of Her Ladyship. You best figure a way to disguise your attraction.”

  “Best you be taking your own advice,” Gorten returned. “And I wasn’t troubled by your obvious affection, but by Her Ladyship’s knowledge of our punishment. How did that come about?”

  “She came up and caught me pacing Forfar’s battlements the night Colin raked us for being so easily duped by one of her tricks yet again.”

  “You told her?”

  “I told her nothing…at first. She surmised as much. She is as keen with her mind as you claim she is with a sword,” Brodie said, somewhat bridled.

  “Aye, this is a mess. Part of me wishes never to have gotten this assignment. I’d rather face a hundred men in battle. The laird really cares for his new wife, more than he is willing to admit. And if anything should happen to her now, we will not live long, friend.”

  “She will not make our task easy,” Brodie forewarned.

  “Her Ladyship? Perhaps. She does have a way of yanking down your defenses and making you vulnerable to her wishes.”

  “It is getting harder and harder to please both.”

  Gorten shook his head. “No, what’s getting harder is the need to make Her Ladyship smile while keeping our oath to our laird.”

  The door suddenly swung open, and Makenna stood ready to leave. “What oath?” she asked casually.

  Gorten moved to block her path. “The one to keep you in your chambers and not allow visitors.”

  “But that was just yesterday. I must go down and assist Colin.”

  “He said until the funeral and that is at least another day, possibly two, away.”

  “Two more days! I will not be locked away as a child for two days. I know I promised not to get you in trouble, but I’ll just have to beg for your forgiveness when I find a way to get out.”

  “Milady, the laird doesn’t see you as a child—” Gorten began.

  “No, quite the opposite. Of all the people right now, you are most important to him,” Brodie finished.

  Gorten nodded. “It is true. Said so himself this morning when he checked in on you.”

  “He was here?” Makenna frowned.

  Gorten nodded. “Aye, for almost half an hour he stayed with you while you slept. The man is most concerned for you.”

  “I felt him there. After he left, I suddenly felt cold, empty,” Makenna whispered, not realizing that she was talking aloud.

  Brodie elbowed Gorten. “You see, milady? Staying in your chambers is not punishment, but a gift.”

  “Aye, a gift,” Makenna acknowledged bitterly. “But a gift that I do not want or intend to take.”

  “Now, milady, the laird wants you to be able to grieve in peace. He wants to protect your privacy.”

  “It is a kind gift, as you put it, Gorten. Yesterday, it was needed. Today, however, it is not. My father’s death will weigh upon me for some time. Shall I lock myself away from duties and responsibilities until I no longer feel like crying?” Her eyes locked on to Brodie’s before moving to Gorten’s. Both men began shifting their weight uncomfortably. “I thought not. Now, if you will tell me where Colin is, I’ll explain this to him myself.”

  Brodie swallowed heavily. “He rode toward the training fields when he left this morning.”

  “The training fields?” Makenna barely kept her voice from shrieking. “The man would pick the one place I pledged not to go. How dare he use my own oath against me!”

  “I don’t think it was intentional, milady. He needed to see the men. Tell them personally what was happening and give them assurance about leading the Dunstans.”

  Makenna bit the inside of her cheek. She really must learn not to voice her thoughts out loud. She reached out and seized Gorten’s arm. “Of course, you are right. But I cannot just stay in my room all day. I have to be active. You can understand that, can you not?”

  Brodie saw Gorten fight his reaction to her touch and quickly answered for his friend. “We do, but until the laird says otherwise, you must stay here. As soon as he returns, one of us will fetch him.”

  Makenna’s shoulders slumped in resignation. Even if she did escape, she had no idea what she would do. Ula and Rona would order her about, and in truth, she had no desire to prepare her father’s funeral. She needed to remember him the way he was the last time she saw him. At her wedding reception, happy and at peace.

  Silently, she turned and reentered her chambers. The only way she could help her clan and Colin was to remain out of the way. But just as she pushed the door closed, a thought occurred to her. There was something she could do for her clan as well as Colin. And it could be done in the secrecy of her chambers.