Isabel MacLeod was far too perceptive. Meg smiled wanly. “I’m afraid it does not matter. I must marry.”
If Isabel was shocked by Meg’s odd statement, her tone did not betray her. “Of course you must.”
Meg turned back to face Isabel, her face impassive. “No, I mean I must marrynow.”
“I don’t understand. Are you already betrothed?”
“No. But there are unusual circumstances. I have promised my father that I will have chosen a husband by the time I leave court.”
Isabel’s delicate brows knit together across her forehead. “Is Alex aware of this?”
Meg nodded. “And he’s made it very clear that he is not interested in marriage.”
Isabel bit her lip, looking a bit uncomfortable, as if weighing how much to say. “I very much doubt it is that he is not interested…”
“But something is holding him back,” Meg finished for her.
Isabel nodded.
“Does it have something to do with the MacGregors?”
Isabel looked at her sharply. “Did he tell you that?”
“Not exactly.”
Isabel frowned, appearing to debate with herself about whether to say more. Finally, she seemed to come to some sort of decision. With a quick glance at Elizabeth and Rosalind across the room, she leaned in toward Meg. “What do you know of Alex’s past?”
It took Meg a moment to comprehend what Isabel meant. “Do you mean about him being taken prisoner by the MacDonalds?” At Isabel’s nod of encouragement, Meg continued. “He told me that he was taken prisoner after the MacLeods’ defeat at the Corrie of the Foray. Although he did not say so, I got the impression that he took the loss personally.”
“You’re right. Did he tell you that he was the acting chief of the MacLeods at the time?”
Meg shook her head no, but understanding dawned.
Isabel continued, “The raid happened while Rory was away. He’d left Alex in charge for the first time. Alex took the loss to the MacDonalds as a personal failure—especially the deaths of his cousins.”
Meg gasped. “I didn’t realize….”
“About twenty MacLeod clansmen lost their lives that day. Two close cousins of his from Lewis were brutally murdered right before his eyes.”
Meg thought of the haunted look that she’d seen sweep his handsome features, his burning hatred of Dougal MacDonald, and the inner drive that she’d sensed but had not understood. “Poor Alex,” she said, her heart breaking for him. “I knew there was something in his past that weighed on him.” The death of his cousins under his first command was what drove him so relentlessly. “It explains so much,” she said, shaking her head. “But it still does not explain his refusal to marry.”
“Doesn’t it?” Isabel encouraged.
Perhaps it did, Meg realized. If Alex felt there was still something he had to do. “Do you know why Alex is really at court, Isabel? Does it have to do with what you’ve just told me?”
Something distinctly resembling guilt flashed across Isabel’s stunning face. “I’ve said too much already,” she murmured dismissively. “But I do know that the loss of that battle weighs heavily on him. It changed him. In many ways, Alex is living in the past, trying to make up for his perceived failure that day.” Isabel looked as though she wanted to say something more, but she held her tongue.
“But what can I do?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to discover the rest from Alex. He deserves to find happiness. If there’s any chance that he can find it with you—”
“You two look as thick as thieves at a fair,” Elizabeth said, approaching them from across the room.
A quick glance over to Rosalind forced a smile to Meg’s lips.
“I see your conversation is as enthralling as ever, Elizabeth,” Meg teased, eyeing her mother napping peacefully in her chair.
Elizabeth laughed. “I think we may have missed the truly scintillating conversation. But I’ll wager I can guess what—or should I say whom—you were conversing about.” Elizabeth turned to Isabel and said, “Your brother by marriage has made quite an impression on my friend.”
