“Hmm. Brodie would have to be your dowry.... I will have to think on this, but I am not opposed to finding a husband for you.”
She inhaled. “Give me Iain of Islay,” she said.
Iain stiffened. Alana saw his reaction from the corner of her eye; he was taken by complete surprise.
As was Robert Bruce. “You wish to marry my best commander in the north?” he asked, incredulous.
“Yes, I do. I know he covets far greater lands, and a great heiress—one greater than myself. But you have given him Nairn and he will have Brodie. And I am certain he will conquer other estates in this war.” She did not dare look at Iain now. She was shaking.
Bruce started to laugh. “She has more courage than most men, combined!”
“Yes, she does,” Iain said tersely.
“Your mistress wishes to marry you!” Bruce kept laughing.
Alana flushed. Boyd and Hay were as entertained, their smiles wide. Now, she glanced at Iain. He gave her a dark, disbelieving look.
“Mistress Alana, Iain has fought very hard for us,” Bruce said. His smile faded. “No matter how much you please him, he would not be pleased with such a small dowry. I have promised him great lands and titles for his service to me.”
Her cheeks felt like they were on fire. Alana glanced at Iain. His gaze was unwavering upon her.
“However, I will give a great deal of thought to finding you a proper husband—a strong knight, perhaps, from the south, who is seeking a name here in the north. And you will have Brodie when we choose to take it from Duncan of Frendraught.”
Alana trembled with disappointment. She hadn’t planned to ask for Iain as a husband, and now she wished she had thought it through. Her cheeks still burned. “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said, low.
He waved dismissively at her and sat back down. Alana began to turn away when Iain took her arm, quite forcefully, and pulled her with him from the tent. Just before they stepped outside, Alana stole a glance at him. His profile was hard and tight.
She had been about to ask him if he was angry with her. She gulped down the words. She had to hurry to keep up with him as they hurried through the maze of tents, past several small cook fires. His grip did not ease.
Iain pulled open his tent door, guiding Alana in and stepping in behind her. Meg sat at the small table there on his stool. When they came in, she jumped up, spilling her wine as she did so.
Iain released Alana. “Leave us,” he said.
Meg picked up her plaid, flung it about her shoulders and scurried out.
Alana tensed, facing Iain.
He took her furs from her and flung them aside, seizing her shoulders. “So ye want Brodie—and ye want me,” he said harshly.
“Iain,” she began, intending to try to explain herself and defuse the situation.
But he did not allow her to speak. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her heatedly, tongue to tongue, and then he was pushing her down on the pallet.
* * *
ALANABRAIDEDHERhair, glancing into a small looking glass on the table when she was done.
She was amazed by her own appearance. Her skin glowed like pearls, her cheeks were tinged with a pretty flush and her eyes sparkled. For the first time in her life, as she regarded herself, she understood why she was considered a beautiful woman.
She glanced across Iain’s tent at his pallet, which was vacant. They had made love several times last night, and she had then fallen asleep in his arms. Exhausted, she had slept well past sunrise, and when she had awoken, Iain had been gone.
Alana walked over to the tent flap and opened it. She stood still and stared out at Bruce’s camp.
Because the army was not marching, his soldiers were seated around the various campfires, eating and drinking. A group of men were heading off into the woods on foot, with bows upon their shoulders. She hoped there would be venison that night.
She scanned the camp. Last night, they had not spoken, not even once, about what had happened in Bruce’s tent or about anything else.
She remained in some disbelief. King Robert had given her Brodie in exchange for her fealty...even if he had refused to give her Iain.
