Her former home had been built upon a rocky promontory, the fortress surrounded on three sides by the waters of an immense lough. She had never felt a prisoner there until after Debora died—och, so many unhappy memories crashing in upon her as they drew closer!
As if sensing her dismay, Gabriel pressed his hand just below her breast, but he didn’t utter a word. She had seen him grim-faced before, though nothing like the hard set of his jaw now and the tic working along one cheekbone.
Archers stared down at them from the high parapets and she smelled the stench of heated pitch. Were they preparing for an imminent attack?
Magdalene saw something else, too, set upon pikes lining the last stretch of road leading to the drawbridge…and she feared she might retch, gall rising in her throat.
Severed heads with sightless eyes—ah, God, more executions? If so many thus far had opposed her brother, would he not think to reconsider his quest for the throne?
“Seoras has been busy,” was all that Gabriel muttered, though he seemed to have spoken more to himself than her. He clutched the reins with both hands now, Magdalene missing at once the reassurance of his touch that had bolstered her during the journey.
With an ominous clopping of hooves, his steed crossed the drawbridge, followed closely by Cameron, Conall, and Alun, who had dropped back behind them.
Magdalene held her breath as they passed beneath a massive iron gate and then rode into the expansive bailey where she had once skipped and played as a child—but it only seemed threatening to her now. The place teemed with people who rushed forward to surround them, warriors, stable hands, and finely dressed courtiers, while a familiar voice roared above the din.
“Welcome, MacLachlan! Just before midday, I commend you!”
Like the parting of the Red Sea, the crowd stepped aside so Seoras could stride toward them, his ermine-trimmed cloak swirling. Gabriel dismounted to greet him, which made a self-satisfied grin split her brother’s bearded face.
He was a big man, his reddish-blond hair glinting in the sunlight, but not as tall as Gabriel by half a head. Yet Seoras’s green eyes, so much like the color of her own, weren’t on his baron but settled upon her…his smile grown tight as he appraised her.
“Och, she’s comelier than I remember. At least you dinna have tae close your eyes when you bed her, aye, Gabriel?”
A great burst of laughter erupted from those gathered around them, and Magdalene saw at once that Gabriel’s broad shoulders stiffened. Yet not all were laughing…some MacDougall clansmen watching silently as Seoras waved his arm with a grand flourish.
“My sister, Mad Maggie, has returned! Dinna stand too close, though, lest she drool upon you. I recall our mother drooling after she lost her wits, poor woman. Fetch her down from the horse, Gabriel, so we can have a better look at her.”
Sickened that he would share such a heart-wrenching detail about their mother, Magdalene did, indeed, gather spittle into her mouth as Gabriel obliged him, his strong hands around her waist as tense as his shoulders. As soon as her feet touched the ground, instead of drooling, she coughed straight at her brother, a sticky glob landing right at the center of his tunic.
Seoras looked down, and then up again, very slowly, his face darkened with anger as no one made a peep around them. Gabriel, too, looked on silently, though she could swear that she saw the barest glint of approval in his eyes.
That fueled her even more and she began to whirl around in place with her arms out flung, Seoras stepping back while everyone else around them scattered.
“Home again! Home again!”
Her voice as wildly shrill as she could make it, she laughed, too, just as she’d done before with Gabriel, a crazed sound that made the onlookers move even further away. She would have kept twirling if he hadn’t grabbed her, and clasped her arms to her sides.
“You must forgive my wife,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear. “She’s a lunatic after all. Do you have quarters where I might take her?”
“Aye, the same room in the tower where they kept our mother,” Seoras answered gruffly, wrenching one of his courtiers toward him and using the man’s sleeve to wipe the spittle from his tunic. “Go on with you, show him the way—but see that you meet me in the great hall, MacLachlan, within the half hour. The rest of you, attend tae his men and horses!”
With that, Seoras turned on his heel and stormed away, while the hapless courtier tried to shake the mess from his sleeve even as he bowed his head to Gabriel.
“If you please, Laird, follow me.”
Grateful that Gabriel had released his tight hold upon her, Magdalene hurried beside him, almost tripping over the hem of her gown. She gasped when he swept her up to carry her, his voice barely above a whisper in her ear.
“I thought I said docile—”
“Oh, aye, forgive me, husband. Next time I’ll spit more gently.”
He gave no answer to her returned whisper, but squeezed her as if he wanted to shake her.
Yet still his gaze held admiration, which made her dare to throw the most fleeting of smiles at him…just in case anyone watched them as he carried her inside.
Chapter 20
“Och, Maggie, anyone else would have forfeited his head tae spit upon your brother. Shh, keep your voice down tae a whisper. Always remember while we’re here, the walls have ears.”
