“Because you are staring as if I have two heads!” she cried. But she was thinking of the way Alexander had kissed her last night. She did not have to be well acquainted with Sir Guy to know that he would be furious if he ever found out.
“I am staring because you are even more beautiful than your likeness, or than your uncle described.”
She breathed hard. “So you are pleased?”
He began to shake his head. “Of course you please me, Lady Margaret. But I am not pleased that Alexander attacked Castle Fyne—and that he holds you hostage—and he has brought you here.”
She wondered if she should reveal that she had taken it upon herself to come to the encampment. But instinct prompted her not to disclose the truth. “I am so sorry Castle Fyne was lost, my lord. But you must know how bravely my people fought to defend it.”
His eyes widened. “So it is not a tall tale?”
“What tale, my lord?”
“All of Scotland has been speaking of the lady of Fyne who dared to defend her castle against the mighty Wolf of Lochaber. I did not believe it.”
Was he pleased? She could not tell. “I did not think there was a choice at the time. I did not know of Bruce’s rebellion. I thought aid would soon come, and that we could hold the Wolf off until my uncle Buchan or my uncle Argyll came to rescue us.”
“You are a woman! You are seventeen! How could you possibly defend a castle under siege?” He was incredulous and angry at once. “Why didn’t your brother defend the castle?”
“My lord, my brother left to fight the Wolf in the ravine, hoping to turn him back before he ever could reach our walls! There was no one else left to defend the castle. I am Mary MacDougall’s daughter. It was my duty to defend Castle Fyne.”
He now stared and she felt terribly uncomfortable. “You should have conceded to one of your knights. No woman can fight a battle. And you should not be here, in his camp.” He whirled his mount to face Alexander.
And once his back was to her, she breathed deeply and looked quickly at Alexander. He sent her a glance she could not decipher.
“I want you to release her—now. She need not be a part of this war,” Sir Guy said fiercely.
“I cannot release her. She is the lady of Castle Fyne and the Earl of Buchan’s niece,” Alexander spoke calmly. “She remains a valuable prize, Sir Guy, but that, ye already know.”
Margaret trembled, aware that Alexander was being utterly provocative, no matter that his tone was dispassionate.
“We were friends once,” Sir Guy exclaimed, pacing his stallion about Alexander and Padraig again. “What if I ask you to release her—because she is a lady, and while you are a wild Scot, I happen to know that you have some small sense of honor!”
Alexander smiled that half smile Margaret now knew so well—the one containing no mirth at all. “And what will I get in return?”
Sir Guy halted.
“Will ye give me Castle Fyne? Will ye turn around and retreat?”
Margaret was shocked. Would Alexander release her if he was given Castle Fyne?
“Never,” Sir Guy snarled.
“I dinna think so.”
Sir Guy cursed. “What ransom then?”
Alexander sat his gray steed in profile to Margaret. He glanced briefly at her now. “I am not asking for a ransom.”
Sir Guy choked, so furious he could not speak.
“She is too valuable to ransom,” Alexander said, softly. He did not look at her—his stare was unwavering upon Sir Guy.
“You bastard heathen Scot! She is mine—Castle Fyne is mine! I am going to destroy you, Alexander, or die in the attempt.”
“Then ye will likely die.”
Sir Guy turned toward Margaret, enraged. She cringed.
