“Do ye wish for Buchan to return here and use it against me?”
She hugged herself. “No.”
“I dinna think so.” He gathered up his reins.
She did not want her uncle to use Nairn Castle against Iain. But some of the women who were leaving the castle were crying. Their children were pale and afraid. She could only imagine how the villagers felt at being forced to leave their homes.
She turned back to Iain, and caught him watching the exodus, too. “Will you spare the village, at least?”
His face was hard. “Dinna interfere, Alana.”
She could not help herself. “Have you even thought about the suffering you cause? I know you are not the savage Highlander of legend! Look at them, Iain! Look at the men, women and children whom you are sending into exile! How will they eat? Where will they sleep?”
“Ye think to interfere in this war?” He was incredulous, flushing. “They will build new homes. They will make new lives. In a new village, on new farms.”
“Yes, I suppose they will, just as Mistress MacDuff must build a new manor,” she said, trembling. She realized her fists were clenched at her sides. “Is this what you did at Inverlochy? Urquhart? Inverness?”
“So ye choose sides against me.”
“How can you say such a thing? After last night?”
“How can ye condemn me after last night?”
She continued to shake. She must not criticize him—not when she loved him. “I do not believe you are pleased to do this.”
“I am a soldier, Alana, the king’s man. Nairn will burn—the castle, the village and its farms.”
“Why?” she cried. “Why?”
“Tomorrow, no one will support Buchan against us, not ever again.”
She felt tears upon her lashes now. “No. They will not support Buchan tomorrow.”
She turned toward the wagon, blinded by pain, not tears. How her heart hurt her now. He did not care about the innocent lives he was endangering. He did not care about the swath of destruction he was deliberately inflicting upon the countryside. Did the truth even matter now?
Because she could not love such a ruthless man.
He must have leaped down from his stallion, because he seized her shoulder from behind, turning her back to face him. “So this is yer farewell? Ye walk away in anger? Ye said ye cared about me!”
His eyes were so fierce that they were frightening. Alana did not know how to answer. Her heart screamed that she did care, but she could see past him, and the men, women and children leaving Nairn were tragic—and his responsibility!
His eyes blazed. “Very well. We ride to Elgin. Donald will take ye back to Brodie. Just go.”
Her heart turned over, hard. They must not part like this, in contention, in anger! But she could only say, “God keep you safe, Iain. I will pray for you.”
He stared, unsmiling. “If I come to Brodie, will ye see me?”
Alana hesitated. She suddenly did not know what she would do. The war already divided them, as did her lies. It would be best to stay away.
“So ye have chosen sides after all.” He seized her by the waist and lifted her effortlessly onto the wagon.
No,she thought desperately,I am on your side!But she did not speak—because she knew she must not say so.
“Ye should be safe at Brodie.” He turned away.
Alana fumbled for the reins, the pain inside her chest terrible now. His back to her, Iain leaped astride his charger. Without another glance at her, he galloped back up the hill, toward the castle. She had lifted the reins without knowing it, and the mule began to go down the road, Donald trotting beside them on his horse.
Eleanor patted her hand.
