“You should not have risked your life for me, Duncan,” she said softly, picking up his big hand to kiss it.
“You are worth it, Eliza,” he replied, his voice trembling slightly as he gazed at her. “You mean everything to me. I would do anything for you because I love you. I have loved you almost from the first time I saw you.”
“I love you too, Duncan,” she told him. “So much.” Her eyes were glistening with tears of joy.
Eliza sat up and wrapped her arms around Duncan’s neck, then he kissed her, not passionately, but tenderly, sweetly, welcoming her back into his life.
When they drew apart, he smiled and helped her drink the tonic, and they sat silently for a while, holding hands. There was much to discuss, but both knew that this was not the time; it could wait till later. Eliza began to drift off to sleep again, and Duncan kissed her forehead then left quietly.
He marched down to the council chamber, outwardly calm, inwardly on fire with rage, and burst into the Great Hall where the councillors were all seated, discussing the future of his family.
Many of them looked up, startled by his sudden, violent entrance. Duncan raised his sword, which was still visibly streaked with blood. He looked around the hall, which had suddenly fallen silent, then slammed his sword onto the table.
It was only then that he noticed that someone was sitting in the seat at the head of the table that was specially reserved for the Laird. It was Iona. She stared at him, wide-eyed with astonishment.
“So you turned back, I see,” he said.
Blood rushed to his head, but he forced himself to calm down. This was a critical moment—the future of the clan hung in the balance. He would deal with Iona later, and he was looking forward to it!
Duncan pointed to the sword on the table. “This blade,” he said grimly, “took the lives of two traitors tonight. These twomen were too stupid to realise that it takes a great deal more than a sword to defeat a real man, this man.” He thumbed his chest. “It takes intelligence and courage in equal measure, and I have both. Kincaid and Armstrong had neither.”
He looked around at their shocked faces, then went on, “I had an English mother, but my father was Scottish, I was born here, and I am as Scottish as you are. Nobody can take that away from me, least of all a couple of stupid creatures who have neither the wits nor the bravery to wield a sword properly. No, they had to poison and kidnap a defenceless woman to murder her in the hope that I would marry that creature over there!” He pointed to Iona.
Duncan thumped his fist on the table in front of him, causing many of the men to jump in shock. He looked around them all, drawing himself up to his full height, thrusting his chest out and his shoulders back as he picked up the sword again.
“As I said, I have cut short the lives of two traitors with this blade tonight.” He looked around at the councillors and scowled, then swiped the sword through the air. “And any of you who stand in the way of me or my bride will meet the same end!”
The men at the table began to mutter amongst themselves, while Iona got to her feet, her face a crimson mask of rage. “You cannot be serious!” she cried. “You would choose a Sassenach that you bought to be your bride when you can have a good Scottish woman like me? Are you mad?”
Duncan laughed scornfully. “No, I am not,” he replied, his eyes blazing with rage. “You may be Scottish, but you are most definitely not a good woman. And a marriage between us? That will never happen! I would not marry you if my life depended on it, or if you were the last woman alive because you too are a traitor!”
“But I am—” Iona began to protest, but Duncan cut her off.
“Guards!” he cried, glancing around at the men in uniform standing by the door. “Take her to the cells. She can stay there until her trial begins.”
“Nooo!” Iona let out a long-drawn-out scream and tried to struggle free of the guards as they dragged her away. “You cannot do this!”
Duncan turned and gave her a dark, forbidding smile. “Oh, but I can, My Lady Muck,” he drawled. “I am the Laird, and my word is law. You may wish to argue with me about that, but you will not win.”
He nodded to the guards. “Take her away.”
He turned back to the men in the room. “Swear your loyalty to me now, or I will make every one of you pay the same price.”
There was a split second of silence during which the elders exchanged glances, then one by one they came up to Duncan and swore an oath of loyalty to him. As the last man bowed to him, Duncan breathed an inward sigh of relief.
Thank god that is over and done with,he thought as they filed out.
Now he could go back to the most important matter in his life—Eliza’s welfare.
Eliza was still asleep when Duncan entered the room, but the healer was sitting beside her reading a book and drinking a glass of milk.
“Has she woken up?” Duncan asked anxiously.
“No, M’Laird,” the healer answered. Then she smiled. “But there is nae need tae worry. She is only sleepin’ an’ she is daein’ very well. She had a lucky escape, though. Another ten minutes without the antidote an’ she would have been dead.”
Duncan passed a hand over his eyes, feeling ready to weep at the very thought. His fury against Iona was like a wild thing that had suddenly inhabited him, and he shook his head to try to clear it of the memory of her face. Why had he ever thought her beautiful?
To distract himself, he said to the healer, “Thank you for your help,” he said. “I’m sure you would like a rest, so I will stay with her now.”
