“Don’t you?”
“Of course,” he answered, clearly taken aback that she would even question it.
“I miss everything about it.” She sighed. “I miss the hypnotic roll of the water that fills every vista at Dunakin, the sounds of the pipers, the evenings spent around a fire listening to the stories of theseannachie,the smell of the sea, the sight of thebirlinnsbobbing on the loch, and so much more.” She wrinkled her nose with a playful smile. “Even the smell of herring.”
“All the symbols of our Island way of life that King James seeks to destroy,” Alex said, not hiding his resentment. “Even our language is offensive to the king and serves only as further evidence of our barbarity.”
“I fear that the old ways of the clans are coming to an end,” Meg said, her voice tinged with regret.
England.Scotland’s enemy for generations was now ruled by a Scot. Delicious irony, perhaps, but old prejudices and old habits were hard to forget. And now the king had the means to enforce his policies against those he termed the “barbarians” of the Isles.
“Not if I can help it.”
The fire in his voice caught her attention. She spun around to look at him. Anger consumed his whole body. This was not a man interested only in fighting. She gave him an appraising glance. He was much more involved in politics than he let on.
His response was typical of her countrymen. She understood his frustration, but she also understood the reality of their predicament. She’d had this conversation with Jamie and Elizabeth countless times. “James is king of England now, not just Scotland. He has the strength of two governments behind him. Already the authority of the chiefs has been curtailed by the General Band. Whether you like it or not, Alex, there will not be much the chiefs can do to prevent change.”
He looked at her as if she were a traitor. “How can you sound so philosophical, so complacent, about something so important? Don’t you care about your home, about your people?”
His voice teemed with passion and conviction. But what did a mercenary care about justice or politics?
“Of course I do,” she said evenly. “I love everything about our Highland way of life. But I’m also trying to be practical. It is not a matter of black or white. We must seek new solutions with King James or we can all end up like the MacGregors.”
“What doyouknow about the MacGregors?”
Meg was surprised by the vehemence in his tone. He’d reacted as if she’d slurred him personally. “Enough to know that they are doomed. The king has stripped them of their land and even of their name. I know that they are hunted men forced to turn outlaw to survive.” He was trying not to show it, but Meg could see that every muscle in his body rejected what she was trying to say. Her voice lowered to soften the blow of her words. “I know enough to understand that if we don’t find a way to get along with King James, our own clans will suffer the same fate as the MacGregors. Aren’t your brother’s lands already forfeit?”
His grip on his reins tightened, turning his knuckles white. Clearly he wanted to disagree, but he couldn’t. “Technically, perhaps. But King James will never hold Dunvegan.”
“I hope you are right, for the Mackinnons’ fate is tied to the fate of the other clans on Skye. If Dunvegan falls, Dunakin would also be in jeopardy. I don’t want Skye to be the next Lewis, with the king attempting to colonize our land with Lowlanders.”
“It won’t be,” he said flatly.
She’d barely heard him, but from his tone Meg realized there was something important that he’d left unsaid. Abruptly, Alex turned away from her. He was shutting her out, trying to put the wall between them again. Whenever she felt they were starting to get close, he pulled back. But not this time. She wouldn’t let him. “For a man so obviously passionate about his home, why have you been fighting someone else’s wars?”
He looked at her and shook his head. “You don’t ever give up.” A smile hovered at the edges of his mouth.
She shrugged. “Where did you say you’d been fighting?”
His jaw fell in a hard, uncompromising line. By his reaction, Meg knew she was getting close.
“I didn’t,” he said.
“Well, then, where were you?”
“Here and there,” he answered vaguely, clearly growing impatient with her interrogation.
From the set of his shoulders, she could tell that she’d pushed him as far as he would go. So she switched tactics. “How long have you been away from home?”
“Almost three years.”
Meg couldn’t imagine leaving home for so long. “But why?” she asked.
“I had to get away for a while.”
“After your imprisonment?”
“Shortly thereafter.” He sounded disgusted with himself for even talking about this. “After I was released, I returned to Dunvegan for a while to stand in for my brother, who was being held by Argyll at the bequest of the king. The king was angry about the feuding between the clans. Rory returned, and I left soon after he hand-fasted Isabel.”
