“Thank ye.” She could use a short nap. With the added warmth of his cloak, she curled into a ball and rested her cheek on her hands. She wondered if Alex had discovered her missing yet—if he believed she abandoned him again. If the man would only take the time to talk to her, to think about how easily she married him, that she’d opened up her arms on their wedding night and gave her body freely to him, he’d realize she’d actually chosen him as her husband.
She yawned and closed her eyes. There was time to worry about Alex tomorrow, after she settled things with the earl and Struan.
*
Sutherland territory
The bad weatherdinna dissuade Struan Sutherland from wanting to accomplish what he’d set out to do. Failure wasna an option. He’d been tracking the MacKays for over a week and keeping watch for any sign of Keely. His men were wet and tired, but there was time for comfort after they completed their task. They stayed in a camp just over the Sutherland border, a day’s ride from the MacKay keep.
Just a mile away from his own camp, he’d spotted a fire while out on patrol. Many traveled this way and went unnoticed. And since the last attack on the MacKays, tensions were high on both sides. Struan knew the new laird would strike back at any time.
“I will ride ahead,” he told his captain. “If they are MacKays, I will ride back and get ye.”
As Struan cautiously advanced, he recalled the exchange he’d had with his sire before he left Dunrobin Castle. The earl dinna love him, and Struan dinna love his father, but he respected him for the powerful man he was. And his future depended on his actions now.
“Ye’re a worthless bastard,” the earl thundered at his son.
Aye,Struan thought as he waited for his sire to calm down,I am that.A bloody bastard who had high ambitions, especially when it came to Keely Oliphant. She’d all but promised to marry him—spending hours with him—laughing at his jokes—sitting next to him at supper—dancing with him on feast days—always smiling whenever she saw him. Either the lady had been stringing Struan along to secure her place in his sire’s home or she cared for him. If the latter, he would do whatever he must to claim her as his bride.
The earl shook the parchment in his hand. “We are expected to wait on the lady. She will visit us at her earliest convenience. And the missive doesna even bear her mark, it is the signature of the MacKay secretary.”
Struan snatched the letter from his father’s hand and read it.
The news of her marriage to Laird Alexander MacKay twisted his stomach with hatred. He’d never met the man before, but had heard enough stories to know him as a dishonorable sort. The kind of man Struan wouldna think twice about killing.
“Her dowry,” his father continued, “more specifically, that fertile stretch of land between the Oliphant holdings and Clan Gunn, would have been tactically useful. More than ye know.”
“I will bring her back.”
“Oh, aye?” His father moved closer. “How?”
“Instead of waiting on Keely to come to us, give me a retinue and I will ride for the MacKay keep.”
“Do ye plan on walking through the gates and demanding her back?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
The earl grabbed a fistful of his son’s tunic and gave him a violent shake. “Fool. Do ye not know who Alex MacKay is? Where he’s been?”
“Constantinople.”
“Aye—fighting for the bloodthirsty barbarians. He’s hard as steel, lad. Not pampered like ye.”
Struan adjusted his collar. “If not a direct confrontation, allow me to spy on the MacKays, to get a feel for their daily routine. If I can take the lass, I will. And once she’s back here…”
“She’s been plucked and eaten,” the earl said. “No longer a maiden.”
Struan thought virgins were overvalued. Give him a lass who knew what she wanted, who could ride him, aye, he’d die a happy man. “I care little for such things. If anything, Laird MacKay has done me a favor by breaking her in.”
His father frowned. “Do what ye must, Struan. And if ye fail, so help me, I’ll regret the day I took mercy on yer life and claimed ye as my own.”
Struan bowed and backed out of his sire’s solar.
Though his father ruled his clan with an iron fist, he couldna control everything. The Sutherland holdings were vast, and not all of his tenants were as dedicated as they should be. Gold bought loyalty in the Highlands. And Struan had successfully organized a band of highwaymen three years ago. Robbing unsuspecting travelers was easy enough, and Struan had amassed a small fortune.
Politics hadn’t inspired Struan to become a notorious thief. Nay, pure boredom had driven him to such extremes. Aye, he trained in the bailey every morning and could swing a sword and shoot an arrow as straight as any man. But he wanted more—needed more. Though his father’s noble blood tamed him some, twas his mother’s inferior family line that defined him. His maternal grandfather had been hung for piracy in Ireland twenty years ago.
As he reached the perimeter of the woods, Struan dismounted and walked the rest of the way. Two horses were tied next to the camp. There was no movement, not even someone keeping watch. He found two people sleeping next to each other. As he moved closer, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He picked up a thick stick from the ground, opting for a club as a weapon instead of his sword.
