Chapter 2
Shona spent the rest of the day with Christina and the other women, avoiding Seamus, and listening to them talk about the new laird and the man who had lost.Angus.Her admirer. Despite their encounter, he’d charmed her. He was handsome enough, with his dark hair and dark eyes. His tipsy grin. And since he had not been elected laird, being with him would not place her under the intense scrutiny the laird’s wife would have to bear. He’d been earnest in his efforts to get to know her. She’d be flattered if she didn’t suspect the whisky had a great deal to do with how eager he’d been. Still, she might enjoy getting to know him when he wasn’t prematurely celebrating.
She’d seen no sign of her uncle for hours. Then, just as she began to relax her vigilance, he arrived.
“Come with me,” he demanded, giving her no explanation.
But she knew why the moment she saw the new laird standing with the group she’d already begun to think of as his men. She hadn’t seen any of them do anything but talk and drink. The other women said Colin did no useful labor at all. The time he would now spend in consultation with the clan elders would ensure that continued. Shona decided if his greatest skill was conversation, it might explain how he got elected. She didn’t understand how the clan could pick him over Angus, but she was new here, and there was much she’d yet to learn.
Uncle Seamus brought her forward, one hand gripping her upper arm, making it clear he would not allow her to run from this encounter. In moments, they stood before the new laird, and Seamus made the introductions. Shona did not like the gleam in Colin’s eye as he studied her. His breath smelled of whisky and something sour. Revulsion made her stomach twist. She maintained her downcast eyes and stiff posture, trying to ensure he understood she was a good deal less enthusiastic about this proposed match than her uncle’s swagger suggested.
“Seamus, what is this?”
His question startled and unsettled her, making her blood run cold. What is this? Notwho?
“Ye may have seen my niece, Shona, around the village in the last few days,” Seamus answered. “I thought it fitting to introduce her quickly to the new laird. A comely lass, is she no’?”
Colin’s gaze lingered, and Shona fought back a shudder.
“Sadly,” Seamus continued, “she’s an orphan. Her village suffered a great deal of devastation under the invaders, as did ours. I’m her last living relative. Her guardian.”
Shona didn’t miss the implication. Nor did Colin. “Well, then,” Colin said with a smile bordering on a leer, “ye’ll be charged with finding her a suitable husband.” He took her chin in one hand, tilting her head from side to side.
Shona tried to step out of his grip, but her uncle held her firmly in place, forcing her to suffer Colin’s inspection. She suddenly had a sense of how a brood mare must feel. Though his touch was not truly improper, she felt violated. Angry heat started to simmer low in her belly, and she had no doubt her cheeks were stained red with it. She desperately wanted to escape his manipulation, but she dared not expose her ability. And her uncle’s tight grip warned her to keep her silence. She settled for breathing through her nose, nostrils flared, and narrowing her eyes at the new MacAnalen laird.
“Oh ho!” he exclaimed, raising an eyebrow, then turning his attention to Seamus. “The lass has spirit. I like that.”
He released her chin, and Shona turned her scowl on her uncle, but he ignored her.
“Were I no’ laird,” Colin continued, “I might snatch this pretty piece for myself. Of course, the laird still could…”
Shona enjoyed the look of consternation that flitted across Seamus’s face, so quickly smoothed away, she doubted Colin had noticed it. Ruined, she’d be no use to her uncle. Married to the laird was one thing. The laird’s leman, quite another.
Colin’s companions had also frowned at their new laird’s implication. Shona hoped their censure would prevent him from that.
“But,” Colin continued, taking in his gawking companions with a glance, “my responsibilities lie in another direction. My marriage must form an alliance with a nearby clan. If ye wish to see yer niece settled, I’ll arrange a match with one of them, in the course of arranging mine. She’s quite alluring to look at, so despite her spirit, she should fetch a good bride price.”
What? Nay! Colin’s apparent awareness that his companions censure had given her a moment of relief. Yet now, he proposed to send her to another set of strangers? She’d only just arrived here. Shona had learned in her old village to avoid trouble, to run from it when she could not avoid it. Now, she wanted to bolt, but she was still reined in by her uncle’s grip. Besides, where would she go? A woman alone, without family, without protection, was vulnerable. She’d seen the ugly proof of that during the Lowlanders’ invasion.
“An arrangement with another clan would suit, I suppose,” Seamus answered, “but if ye fancy her yerself, ye might consider sending the auld laird’s brother to make an alliance elsewhere.”
The auld laird’s brother? Angus was the auld laird’s brother. She’d learned from the other women how he’d kept the clan together, and how he’d rebuilt their village once they and a neighboring clan defeated the invaders. If even part of what she’d heard was true, Angus had worked all winter while Colin and his followers did little. Surely, Colin’s slothful ways were well-known long before the council considered his bid for leadership. No wonder Angus had been celebrating even before the election. He’d expected to win handily over such a rival. Why hadn’t the clan confirmed him as laird?
Colin looked her up and down again, making Shona’s skin crawl. She wanted nothing to do with the new MacAnalen. He was older than Angus—by a decade, she guessed. Had his age made him seem more suitable to take charge?
Seamus’s suggestion finally penetrated her haze of disgust. Marry Angus to a lass from another clan, and saddle her with the MacAnalen? Not if she had anything to say about it. She started to speak, then pressed her lips tightly together. They’d laugh in her face and proceed to do exactly what she dreaded most. Instead, she forced herself to listen to them debate where Colin could send Angus to make the most advantageous match for MacAnalen. With so many Highlanders killed at Flodden four years earlier, many clans would eagerly accept a seasoned fighting man. Given the clan’s snub, Angus might happily accept a marriage-of-alliance out of the clan.
Where would that leave her? Her gaze travelled over Colin’s men. None of them compared to Angus in reputation or attractiveness. She searched the area behind them, taking note of every man she could see. Who could help her? She’d yet to meet any of them. Only Angus and a few of the women.
Angus was already interested in her. She had a sinking feeling the man she’d pushed into a puddle of ale was her only hope to avoid the match her uncle coveted. She did not want Angus to leave.
* * *
The next day, work resumed on the new hall. Angus kept an eye on things from his perch on the unfinished roof. He was a fool to be up here. His head ached, his couldn’t be certain of the contents of his belly, and he suspected his eyes were redder than old Luthais’s nose. The work, he fervently hoped, would help him sweat out the rest of the whisky he’d overindulged in yesterday. Now the clan had a new laird. Angus was just one more strong back among the remaining able-bodied men. Like theirs, his muscles bulged with the effort required to haul on ropes and lift heavy roof support beams into position. He’d avoided this part of the construction before now, preferring to keep his feet on the ground and avoid breaking his neck in a fall. He saw staying alive as his duty as long as he remained in unofficial charge of the clan’s recovery. He didn’t relish taking a stance on a squared off beam scarcely wider than his foot was long, three times a tall man’s height above the hard-packed ground. However, the look of respect the men gave him as he lent his strength to theirs was worth the risk. If he couldn’t have their respect as laird, he would be satisfied having it while working alongside them on the roof.
Angus palmed the sweat from his eyes and glanced around while the others untied their ropes and tossed them down for the next beam. He had a few minutes to catch his breath. Off to one side, Colin…Laird MacAnalen…conferred with his privy council—as good an excuse as any not to do any heavy work, Angus supposed. Not that Colin had done much physical work before being elected, spending most of his time in the woods with one lass or another, or with his cronies, avoiding the bustle of activity in the village. He’d never bowed to Angus’s leadership. Now he didn’t have to. Angus had to bow to his. Angus’s nostrils flared in disgust.
Seeing Colin brought back the scene Angus had witnessed the day before, when Seamus had dragged Shona before the new laird. A muscle in Angus’s cheek jumped as he recalled the stony look on Shona’s face. He’d been too far away to hear what the men had said, but Shona’s lack of expression had spoken volumes, as had Colin’s leer and the amused glances exchanged among his cronies. But then his expression had changed and Seamus’s posture had stiffened, leaving Angus to think Colin had been less eager to go along with her uncle’s plans than Seamus expected.
