“Bruce thinks to pass to the west of Loch Lommond and then onto the lands of Lennox. But we dinna ken if Lennox survived Methven. He has sent Neil Campbell ahead to procure ships. If he can cross into Campbell territory, he will need the vessels to cross to Dunaverty.”
Angus stared at Alexander, his expression impassive and impossible to read.
“I have been sent ahead to ask ye fer yer help,” Alexander said.
“Bruce is Scotland’s rightful king. I promised him my support long ago. He will have it now, in his darkest hour.” And as if the conversation were concluded, his gaze veered to Margaret briefly. He seemed surprised, and he took a second glance at her, before returning his attention to Alexander.
Alexander nodded with hard satisfaction. “It is up to Bruce then—and to Lennox if he lives, and to Campbell. But I have been instructed to begin to raise a new army for him.”
Angus’s smile was knowing. “He has many here in the isles who will support him. We’ll sit later and discuss it.” He now turned and faced Margaret. “Introduce me to yer lady, Alexander.”
Alexander smiled. “Brother, there is nothing I wish to do more. She is Lady Margaret Comyn.”
Angus Og approached. “The Lady of Loch Fyne.”
Margaret had tensed. She and Alexander now planned to marry, and she wanted his brother’s approval. But she was a MacDougall by birth—she was the blood enemy of his entire clan. “My lord,” she said. “I am Lady Margaret Comyn. I pray it does not distress you that I am here, imposing upon your hospitality now in our time of need.”
He seemed amused as he studied her. “I ken who ye be, Lady Margaret. I heard the tale long ago of how bravely ye tried to fight off my brother.”
Margaret hoped that was praise. “At the time, he was the enemy, and there was no other choice.”
“How old are ye?”
“I will soon be eighteen.”
“Most women yer age would not have tried to defend a castle with but a handful of men.”
Alexander said, “She is not most women. She is uncommon.”
Angus glanced at him with a smile. “Uncommonly brave, uncommonly beautiful. I can see why ye keep her. Ye remind me of yer aunt, Lady Margaret.”
Margaret was surprised.
“Ye look very much like Juliana. She is another MacDougall who is brave and beautiful—who dared to love one of my brothers.”
Margaret wasn’t sure how to respond.
Angus said, “Do ye love my little brother?”
“Yes.” She bit her lip. “I love him greatly...I hope that pleases you.”
He studied her. “It would please me to know that ye have truly forsaken yer MacDougall loyalties.”
Of course he cared mostly about her loyalty to the clan he hated more than anything and anyone. “I will always be loyal to Will—my only remaining brother. I will always be loyal to my mother and my father, God bless them, for they are dead. But—” she looked at Alexander, and tears arose “—I love Alexander. I never meant to love him, but it came to pass. When I fled the Englishman I was meant to wed, I knew I was giving up my every ancient loyalty. I am loyal to Alexander, my lord. For now and forever.”
Alexander slid his arm around her. “I have asked her to marry me—many times, actually. She has only recently agreed.”
Angus’s stare remained upon her and it was thoughtful. “The last time a MacDougall married a MacDonald, ancient loyalties were tested and torn asunder. It isn’t easy to love the enemy.”
“I know,” Margaret whispered.
“But Juliana never wavered—my older brother never wavered—and ye remind me of her.” He walked to Alexander and laid his hand upon his shoulder. “If ye love her as our brother loves Juliana, she will be fortunate, indeed.”
Margaret trembled, holding back tears. They had just been given Angus Og’s blessing.
He smiled at them then, and suddenly turned and exited the hall, leaving them very much alone.
Alexander reached out. Margaret gave him her hand.
