Keely tried to contain her emotions. But the longer she gazed upon the man she once deeply loved, and the more she heard about the burned village, the more she couldn’t stay silent. For she’d lived with the Sutherlands. And if she could aid Alex in any way, to help make up for the pain she caused him by marrying his brother John, she’d do it, no matter the cost.
“Alexander!” She stepped away from Andrew, hoping she’d called his name loud enough for him to hear.
Stormy green eyes met hers. The effect of her presence on Alex became immediately obvious. He squared his shoulders and puffed out his muscular chest.
“Alexander MacKay,” she said again, pushing her way to the front of the hall, Andrew at her heels.
His features were stone cold. His lips curled in anger. “Hugh. Bruce. It seems the enemy has penetrated our defenses. Take this woman to a holding cell.”
Keely’s mouth dropped open in utter shock as her escort, Andrew, latched onto her right arm from behind.
“I begged ye to be still, lass,” he whispered. “Tis a bad time to remind the laird’s brother of the past. Now I canna help ye.”
She turned halfway, able to see Andrew’s face. “And why would ye help me?”
He shrugged. “A lass in need deserves whatever help I can give.”
Unsure of his motive, she frowned at him before she whipped around to look at Alex again. He’d only grown more handsome and ruthless, hardened by the life he’d chosen. Or the life she’d forced him into—if she was being completely honest. No Scotsman voluntarily left the Highlands. He must have cause. And she’d given Alex MacKay an endless number of reasons to seek refuge on the other side of the world.
Two red-headed warriors appeared in front of her, the smell of ale and male sweat permeating off their bulky bodies.
“The lass is to come with us,” one said to Andrew.
“And where are ye taking her?” Andrew asked, still holding on to her.
“Into the bowels of the keep where she belongs—where all traitors to Clan MacKay end up, before we put them in the ground.”
Keely covered her mouth. Surely this was an attempt to frighten her, nothing more.
“Tis no way to talk to a lady,” Andrew spat at the towering giants.
“Ye’d oppose a direct order?”
Keely patted Andrew’s tense shoulder. He was a man of honor. “Doona risk yer position for me, Captain. I will go with these men.”
Hugh and Bruce positioned themselves on either side of Keely, making her feel even smaller and more insignificant than she had before.
As they walked past Alex, he whispered just loud enough for Keely to hear, “Welcome home, Keely.”
Chapter Three
How had thatblue-eyed she-devil gotten inside the keep? Why now? Alex tried to collect himself, but simply couldn’t. He left the great hall—unwilling to show even the slightest crack in his impenetrable façade. Once abovestairs in the laird’s solar, he let out the frustrated growl he’d been holding in. So much had happened in the two days he’d been back in the Highlands. If he’d trusted his instincts in the first place, he would have never turned around when he heard the horsemen arrive on the beach. But no, the part of him still in love with his homeland—the side that still swelled with pride whenever he spotted a scrap of blue and green MacKay plaid—overruled the battle-hardened mercenary.
He’d willingly go to Hades before he’d let a Sutherland destroy his family.
“Is she the woman you spoke of?”
Alex eyed the olive-skinned scholar he’d hired five years ago in Italy to accompany him to Constantinople as an interpreter. The man spoke seven languages, including Gaelic.
“Aye,” he reluctantly admitted. “What were ye doing in the hall? I asked ye to stay here and cull through the ledgers.”
Petro gave him a sad smile. “I cannot fight against my own nature,” he said. “I follow the excitement.”
“Did ye find what ye wanted belowstairs?”
“I discovered the truth,” Petro said. “Now that you have possession of the woman you lost so long ago, what will you do with her?”
Alex raked his fingers through his hair. “Hang her.”
