To Wed A Highlander Page 2

  In order to hide their multiplying numbers, Colin had split his men into two groups. Those ready for combat honed their abilities behind the Lammermuir Hills under Drake’s command. A lack of natural passes and the hills’ steep gradients, though not especially high, formed a formidable barrier. Consequently, travelers circumvented the area, unaware of the nearby force being trained discreetly. Dunlop worked with the second group, consisting of new and inexperienced recruits, in the Dunstan training fields located east of the town wall in an isolated spot to discourage casual observation.

  Colin was well aware that many believed his army consisted of only those men spotted training in the fields. They thought his training slow, his numbers few, and the soldiers unprepared. He did not intend to convince them or anyone else otherwise.

  Soon after his arrival, when the army’s growth started becoming noticeable, Colin and Alexander decided to keep its true size a secret known only to them and his commanders, Dunlop and Drake. Makenna was the one person Colin suspected might be able to discover the truth. Despite ending her eccentric habit of training and sparring with his men, the willful woman wanted to watch. Very quickly, she would have noticed skilled soldiers disappearing from the training grounds and would have sought him out for answers. Colin had no intentions of giving explanations, especially to where his more advanced soldiers had gone. Consequently, he had forbidden her to come near the grounds, a decision he had paid for many times with loud curses and verbal attacks.

  Dunlop turned and fell into step alongside his commander. Walking beneath five raised iron portcullises, they traversed the large inner gatehouse. Entering into the wide outer yard created between the inner and outer curtain walls, they passed the armory. Dunlop took his cue from Colin and only gave a perfunctory nod to the older gentleman standing in the doorway. The action conveyed that Colin’s conversation with Laird Dunstan and his daughter had ended even worse than Dunlop had originally surmised. For it was rare that his commander did not stop and greet Camus, a sword smith Colin both respected and called friend.

  Colin headed straight toward the stables located against the southwest corner of the outer curtain wall. Dunlop followed but stopped just inside the stable doors. A cold expression filled his commander’s face, and he could not discern whether he should leave or stay. Not able to choose, Dunlop waited patiently for instructions as he watched Colin prepare and then mount the monstrous black horse. Despite the beast’s size, the animal was quick and nimble and responded to Colin’s slightest commands.

  Dunlop leaned against the wide door frame and gestured for the stable master to leave. Colin rarely exposed his anger, but in his present mood, it would take very little to antagonize him.

  The source of Colin’s frustration was not in question, but Dunlop wondered at the exact cause of its current intensity. For the past month, both Colin and Makenna had been steadfast in their convictions not to marry, and the laird had been equally clear about his disappointment. Then again, the pressure to marry was steadily increasing as the stream of visitors continued to arrive at Lochlen for a ceremony that was supposed to happen on the morrow.

  Colin sat bareback for a moment staring at the black mane of his horse. Pulling the reins to depart, he realized Dunlop was still calmly standing at the entrance. Lines of frustration deepened along Colin’s brows and along his forehead. “Ride with me, Dunlop, but I warn you, I am not prepared to speak of my exchange with Alexander.”

  Dunlop gave a light shrug in agreement. “Aye. Where do we ride?” he inquired, moving to jump onto his preferred brown stallion.

  “We’ll follow the river,” Colin replied as he urged his black out of the stables and toward the town gate. Once outside, he drove his horse over the green and gold grassy knolls and headed south toward the River Dye Water.

  Dunlop assumed Colin would ease the force at which he rode once they reached the river’s rocky banks, but Colin just turned east and continued hard beside the water’s strong current. Dunlop had begun to wonder if Colin was planning to ride all the way to the North Sea before he finally reduced his speed.

  Slowing to a stop, Colin slid off the animal’s wet back and stared into the setting sun. The ride had done nothing to end the war raging in his head. Two incompatible options loomed before him, both with unacceptable consequences.

  Instinct said to return to the land that spiraled into the sky with frigid cold lochs and men and customs he understood.

  Pride required he stay and complete what he had started. Honor was forcing him into doing the unthinkable.

  He needed to keep the promise he had made to his lovely wife, Deirdre.

  She had been so weak for most of their marriage, but in her last hour, she had suddenly become strong in her desire to have him understand what he needed to do. “My dearest Colin, you have taken such good care of me. I fell in love with you when I first saw you. I will never regret one moment of the time we have shared.”

  Her voice had been soft, but unusually firm. It scared him. “Don’t speak, my bean si. Just conserve your strength and get better,” he whispered, clasping her pale, cool fingers as he knelt by her bedside. Fear gripped him. He was going to lose her.

  Her hazel eyes smiled at him. “I have been so unfair to you, my Colin, so incredibly unfair, and yet you never wavered.”

  He kissed her lips lightly and smoothed back the pale gold strands of her hair, fingering their softness. “You have never been unfair to me, Deirdre. I never wanted to marry until I met you, and never once have I had a single regret.”

  Deirdre reached up and caressed his cheek. “No, I have been selfish, Colin. I was never the wife you needed me to be. I was just lucky to be the one you loved.”

  “I was lucky to have found you.”

  She lowered her hand and smiled, shaking her head. “Ah, Colin, you deserve someone who can match your passions, stand by your side when needed, and be a true friend. Until now, I could not be that for you.”

  “You have always been more than enough for me.”

  “It is kind of you to say, Colin. You may even believe that, but I know the truth.” Deirdre put a finger against his lips, preventing him from arguing. “I needed you, Colin, and you were there for me, but when did you ever need me? I mean need me. I know you don’t understand, but I pray that someday you will and that you will need your wife as much as she needs you.”

  Colin placed a warm, tender kiss against her palm. “Shhh. You are speaking nonsense. There will be no one else. I want only you, bean si.”

  Deirdre sighed at his pet name for her. Fairy woman. “For everything that you have given me, I want to give something to you in return.” Deirdre took his strong fingers into her own and squeezed them. “Colin, I want you to marry Makenna.”

  Instinctively, Colin retreated several inches. “Marry Makenna! Are you mad?”

  Her eyes danced. “I thought you said I was the sanest of the Dunstan daughters, and Makenna was the crazy one,” she chided him softly.

  He released her fingers and sat back, running his hand roughly through his hair. “She is! She’s wild and crazy and completely without control. She does nothing but argue and fight against everything I do. The woman…”

  “Makes you come alive. Listen to you. Even now you show more life at the mention of her name than anything I have ever done.”

  Colin was about to argue that he preferred her quiet nature when Deirdre began to cough. She was failing fast and the last thing he wanted to do was argue with her. He silently vowed to agree with whatever she said.

  Deirdre fought to suppress her coughing attack and said firmly, “A marriage to Makenna will protect the clan, and despite what you think, she will make you a good wife. And, Colin, when you find yourself falling in love with her, I want you to know that it is a good thing, a wonderful thing, to find love twice. And when you find yourself happy—happier than you ever were with me—know that I am looking down with joy. That it’s what I wanted. That above all other things, yours an
d Makenna’s happiness is my last wish.”

  All these months later, he could still see the look of peace on Deirdre’s face after he agreed to consider her request. Even today, he could not fathom why his lovely, gentle wife had thought he could be contented with such an irrepressible creature as her sister.

  Colin had buried Deirdre on a cool foggy October morning truly believing her to be his first and last wife. Never did he imagine that nine months later he would be forced into the one thing he vowed never to do again—marry. And in truth, his oath had very little to do with Makenna.

  He had been in Ayrshire fighting alongside Robert the Bruce at the Battle of Loudoun Hill when he met Deirdre, who was visiting her sister to celebrate the English’s defeat. He thought he had finally found a woman with whom he could enjoy a marriage similar to his parents’. Beautiful as she was, petite, and with a smile that could warm the coldest of nights, Colin believed he and Deirdre would eventually create the unique bond only soul mates shared. Instead, he had watched Deirdre become ill again and again, becoming weaker each time, never able to do anything about it.

  “Dunlop?” Colin asked abruptly. The sudden noise startled both his guard and horse.

  “Aye, Colin,” Dunlop responded after recovering.

  “Do you know the laird’s cousin? Is Alexander correct in his belief that his cousin would challenge me as laird if I remained unwed to a Dunstan?”

  Dunlop took a deep breath and exhaled. So that was where Colin’s mind was at…the possibilities of continuing his work here without having to marry. “I wish it were not so, but the man would undoubtedly oppose your being laird. Robert Dunstan swore an oath, as did Alexander, that only descendents of their blood would inherit Lochlen. He respects you and the McTiernays, but only if you were to marry and have children with a Dunstan would he support your claim.”

  Colin recognized the truth of his words. “Who would Robert name?”

  Dunlop played with the hair on his chin, the one place it grew in abundance. “I assume you mean who besides Cedric would Robert name as laird,” he stated, receiving affirmation by Colin’s nod. “Aye, that is the struggle. I doubt there is anyone else. And while Cedric is likeable, he is no leader and definitely no warrior. Another reason why Robert would not interfere if you were married to Alexander’s heir.”

  Colin flexed his fists. Cedric was an agreeable lad, but young and inexperienced. Despite his good intentions, Alexander’s clan would collapse at the first sign of any battle—whether with neighboring Lowlanders or the English. Most Dunstan allies were at least a two-days’ ride away, and it took time to muster forces and move them. For Alexander’s lineage to survive, the Dunstan clan had to be capable of repelling an unexpected attack for several days, if not weeks. Even then, it was risky, as current allies were pledged to Alexander, not Cedric. Only since Colin had taken over the training and continued the fortification of the town wall was the idea of a safe and growing Dunstan clan becoming feasible.

  Colin flexed his hands again. He needed more time, the one thing he did not have.

  Dunlop grimaced and voiced the dreaded option of marriage. “Colin, I do not envy you or your decision. Makenna is a wild beauty and would be difficult to tame.”

  Colin felt his jaw clench. “Damn near impossible. And she is no beauty. There is defiance in everything about her, from her unruly red hair to her insolent green eyes.”

  “Aye, I’ve seen them, and it’s not insolence, but fear you see,” Dunlop disagreed, his tone hesitant.

  Colin fought from snorting aloud. “Fear? Dunlop, are you crazed? That woman fears nothing, no one. Even when she should.”

  Dunlop shook his head. It was dangerous to counter Colin, but it was important that his friend understood Makenna—especially if they were to wed. “Nay, she fears anything she cannot do well, including marriage. And she definitely is a beauty. Unconventional maybe, but unquestionably bonnie, especially when she leaves her hair unbraided. Many men think so, including Laird MacCuaig. It is rumored that he has more than once tried to convince her to marry him. She is probably the only person in the world more against the concept of matrimony than you.”

  Colin looked at the departing sun and twisted the dark mane of his horse in his fingers and easily swung onto its back. “She will have to get over it, then.”

  Dunlop moved toward his own mount. “You have made your decision?”

  “I have. Ride and inform Laird Dunstan to find his daughter. We wed tomorrow.”

  “Aye,” Dunlop answered, swinging onto the brown stallion. “Are you riding on?”

  Colin nodded woodenly, still digesting his decision. “I’ll tell the men later. Right now, I need to think.” And thinking meant a long, cold swim.

  Makenna took a step toward the edge of the small loch her home was named after and dipped her bare foot beneath the surface to test the temperature of its hidden depths. Despite the early summer’s warmth, the water was still cool.

  It was late and the dark night sky would blanket her path home, but at least she was finally alone. It had been difficult to elude the two guards Colin had ordered to watch her whenever she ventured outside Lochlen. At first, it had been easy to sneak by them, but they had learned her tricks faster than she could devise new ones. She had to be especially clever upon her return or yet another pathway to freedom would be stymied.

  She yanked her red and green bliaut over her head and threw it on a nearby tree branch. Her off-white chainse immediately followed. “It’s unfair!” she yelled at no one. “Of all the people in this world forced to marry, it should not be me. Father could have no doubts that I would make the worst wife. Colin certainly has none. Then what do I care what that man thinks? The only thing more intolerable than Colin McTiernay is being Lady McTiernay,” Makenna said, shuddering at the idea.

  Her older sisters had chided her for years about her tendency of talking out loud to herself, but like most of their criticisms, it had fallen on deaf ears. Makenna had told them it was an unbreakable habit. It was other people’s burden, not hers. But, in truth, she hated being an annoyance or a millstone to anyone, almost as much as she hated to fail.

  Makenna stripped off her last piece of clothing and without hesitation, dove into the cold waters. She held her breath and waited for her body to adapt to the icy sensation against her bare skin. When her lungs could stand no more, she broke through the surface and took in a deep breath. The cold was near unbearable, but the silence and the lack of company were worth the self-inflicted torture. Tonight, however, the numbing benefits of the loch could not remove the sting of her failure.

  Lochlen Castle was slowly falling apart. During the first few months after Deirdre’s death, life had progressed normally. Chores were done, linens were cleaned, and baths were drawn. Then for some inexplicable reason, random everyday activities had ceased. From the critical steward’s constant looks of expectation and disappointment, she knew it was because of her. So many times she wanted to ask him what to do, but refrained at the last moment as memories of her failing even the most mundane female disciplines filled her head.

  “And that is why I just cannot marry anyone. I don’t know how to be a wife, let alone a laird’s wife. Why, Lord? Why wasn’t I born a boy?” she cried out in anguish.

  Makenna stroked the water, focusing on the feel of the rippling water against her nude frame now moderately acclimated to the cool temperature. Since she was a child, she had deliberately avoiding any domestic endeavor, instead focusing on exciting activities such as hunting, riding, and swordplay. Those times she had been cornered by one of her four sisters into some keep endeavor, she had failed miserably. “Why is it that everyone wants what I cannot give and forbids what I can?” she sighed aloud and maneuvered to the large rock that jutted out from the water’s surface almost forty feet from the shoreline.

  Deirdre had been the one to show her this small secluded spot and had taken her here as a child to go swimming. Deirdre would never go in, but she would wa
tch as Makenna frolicked in the water. Later, it became a place for them to talk, just them—no one else.

  People, especially her father and later Colin, were so careful around Deirdre. They never raised their voice or challenged her on anything. Deirdre said she hated it, but Makenna, who did not feel inhibited by her sister’s frailty, challenged the avowal. “You love it, Deirdre. You know you do. Everyone caters to your whims. Think how much it would bother you if someone actually challenged or refused one of your requests. If you were honest, you would not deny this.”

  “If I did make such a confession, then I would only do so to you. You keep me grounded, Makenna. Without your honesty, I should be lost.”

  “Then I shall supply it forever. Besides, without you, I would be doomed for perpetual sorrow. For I know it is you who ran interference with that hulking husband of yours and got his permission for me to ride and hunt again.”

  “I am sorry Colin would not also let you train with his men. It was your most favorite of loves.”

  “I’ll take what I can get. I just wish you would ride with me.”

  Deirdre shook her head daintily. “Not for me. I’ll leave that lively activity for you. I’m perfectly happy running Lochlen.”

  “Thank the Lord,” Makenna murmured aloud.