Her eyes flew to Jamie’s face. This time she couldn’t hide her surprise. “Did Alex MacLeod tell you that?”
He shook his head. “No. It’s just another rumor being bandied about court. But it has the ring of truth to it. Rory was said to be unhappy about his brother fighting for the O’Neill. Alex is Rory’s designated successor, his tanaiste. Or ratherwashistanaiste.Rory claimed that Alex’s allegiance belonged to him. And only to him.”
It did. Meg could never consider a man who did not do his duty to his clan. Family loyalty was of utmost importance.
She felt a fresh stab of disappointment, reminiscent of the reaction she’d had last night upon learning that the man she’d spent hours thinking about the past few weeks, her gallant knight in a yellow cotun, wasn’t what she’d thought. She bit her lip, unable to forget the strange hurt she’d felt. He wasn’t suitable, even if he was interested in her—which he obviously wasn’t. She should have listened to the little voice in her head. The voice that warned he was wrong for her.
Hadn’t she seen it for herself? Wasn’t that what had troubled her that day in the forest? Every inch a battle-hardened warrior, he was a man born with a sword in his hand. Fighting consumed him. He wasn’t hotheaded like Thomas Mackinnon; he was far too disciplined for that. But he teetered overly close to the edge of danger for her conservative sensibilities. She needed a stabilizing force, not a warmonger who would be off fighting someone else’s wars.
If there had been any question as to his suitability before, there couldn’t be now. If Alex MacLeod wasn’t loyal to his own brother, how could he be to hers?
She shouldn’t be so disappointed.
But she was.
She’d romanticized a man she knew nothing about. That was precisely the problem with succumbing to the dubious charm of attraction. Meg was surprised at herself. She usually had more sense. But when he’d looked at her with such soul-piercing intensity, she’d felt something so powerful that she’d responded without her usual deliberation.
Which only proved what she already knew. She must choose a husband with her head and not with her heart. Once before, she’d succumbed to the lure of a handsome face and the fierce pounding of her heart, and it had ended in disaster. She would never let that happen again.
Why was she even thinking about this? He wouldn’t want someone like her. He’d danced with her because her mother had forced him into it. She didn’t know what had provoked her to tell him of her search for a husband. Maybe she’d meant to discourage him. Not that he needed discouragement.
“Did you ask him about the rumors?” she asked.
Jamie nodded. “I did. He didn’t deny it, but said it was none of my damn”—he cleared his throat—“business.”
Meg shifted her attention back to Jamie, gazing at him thoughtfully. “Why are you telling me all this, Jamie?”
He shrugged. “I just thought you should know.”
He was doing his best to look indifferent, but Meg realized her obvious interest in Alex MacLeod had perhaps had the unintended consequence of damaging Jamie’s still youthful pride. It was a situation she must rectify.
“Loyalty is of the utmost importance to me, Jamie,” she said truthfully. “You and Elizabeth have been nothing but true and loyal friends to me. I value your friendship greatly.”
Jamie didn’t bother to hide his pleasure. “I’m pleased to hear it. I just didn’t want you to be disappointed.”
I already am.With effort, Meg returned his smile. “How could I be? I don’t even know the man.”
“I thought I did, but Alex has changed much since the last time we met.”
“How long ago was that?”
He thought for a minute. “Five, maybe six years ago. Though he left my cousin’s service over fifteen years past.”
“Time enough for anyone to change.”
“Alex is nothing like I remember. The years have hardened him. He’s no longer the teasing youth always quick with a smile. Believe it or not”—he indicated with a quick flick of his head—“he used to be the lighthearted one.”
Meg would have found it hard to believe except for her memories of his visit long ago and the glimpse of teasing she’d seen on the dance floor. She wondered what had caused him to harden.
Jamie paused reflectively. “Rory was the serious one, Alex more an instigator. But they were always close. Strange to think that so much could have changed. But I suppose as Alex grew to be a man, it would be difficult to be the younger brother of a legend like Rory Mor—Rory the Great.”
Alex MacLeod didn’t strike her as the type to be lost in anyone’s shadow—no matter how broadly cast. He was too much in control. Too confident. Too much a leader in his own right. But Meg kept her opinions to herself.
Her gaze slid to Alex, and she was surprised to find him watching her. Or, rather, glaring at her. He looked almost…angry. There was something dark and frighteningly primitive in his eyes. The heated intensity of his gaze coiled around her and squeezed, taking her breath away.
It was a look of raw possession. Possession that spoke to her in a language she’d never heard before. Of desire, passion, and lust. For a moment she felt helpless, caught in his powerful trap. His eyes held her, just as surely as if he’d reached out across the room to claim her with his arms. She hated that she couldn’t look away.
But he did. His eyes shuttered. And before she could catch her breath, he broke the connection, turned on his heel, and left the hall. Leaving her reeling.
