“Do ye see yerself the same way? Confined as the heir?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, surprise written in her narrowed gaze. She took a breath. “How could I no’? Dinna ye, as well?”
So she hadn’t been aware they knew who she was! Stellan didn’t know whether to be surprised or amused. Did she think they gifted every lass with this much of the heir’s time and attention, or seated her at the head table? Would knowing she was found out make a difference to her? Judging by the way she pursed her lips, it must. Stellan started to apologize, but instead took a breath, thinking about her question. It was something they had in common. Something to bridge the gap between them and perhaps bring them closer together. He wanted that, didn’t he? He needed to learn more about her. Every time he was near her, he wanted his hands on her waist. He wanted to kiss her and find out if she tasted as sweet as she seemed to be, or if the attraction between them would burst into flames and consume them both. But her question poured cold water on all his desires. They were destined to be lairds of neighboring, sometimes rival clans. Always apart. Not betrothed. Never wed. How fast could one ride or sail from Dunrobin to MacKay, indeed?
He looked away from her, hiding how his jaw clenched. Of course he did feel confined as heir. He imagined any eldest son— or daughter in the right circumstances —did. While many, even most, sons and daughters’ futures were prescribed by the circumstances of their birth, some had at least a small measure of freedom to change their fate. To join a fighting force, become a priest or a nun, a scholar. But an heir would always be the heir, always expected to take on that role, that responsibility, with no escape. He, at least, had the comfort of Anders’ presence and the oath they’d sworn to each other.
What could he say to Mariota that would comfort her? They had heard some of her story and he sympathized with the lass for making her escape, temporary though it might be. He didn’tunderstand why her father allowed her attacker to remain alive, but in any case, she remained the MacKay heir, and someday soon, her father would demand her return, either in a letter or at the point of his sword outside Dunrobin’s walls.
Yet how could she return if her attacker still remained free at MacKay? And how could her father demand it of her?
“I do feel confined,” he finally said, lacking an answer to the questions plaguing him. “But I see it as my responsibility, and a challenge to affect the future of the clan that few are given.”
“I would like to give it back,” she muttered softly.
Stellan wondered if he was meant to hear those words.
“I think I would happily become hawk mistress rather than laird,” she said a little louder. “I could do what I love and given the choice, would not be forced to wed anyone I did not like— or anyone at all.”
“Ye dinna wish to wed?”
“I dinna ken. Surely I dinna wish to wed some of the men my da is likely to want alliances with. I must be able to refuse them.” She looked away from the sea. “Has yer da written to mine yet that I am here?”
Her question seemed casual, but her hands clenched on her reins told Stellan the answer to that question meant more to her than she was willing to divulge.
“Aye, he has.” Stellan sympathized with her, but he also saw her reluctance to wed as a mark against her. She knew she had no choice. Despite how she intrigued him, even if they could solve the problem of their positions in their clans, he didn’t want an unwilling bride. Perhaps sheshouldwed his more easygoing twin. He could make her happier than Stellan, and with Anders as her husband at MacKay, rather than just rule Sutherland together, he and Anders could control much of the north of Scotland.
Later, after supper, while he and Anders settled by the fire as was their custom, Stellan broached the idea.
Anders choked on his ale and coughed. “Did ye spend too much time in the sun today, riding along the firth with Mariota? Ye seem to have lost yer mind— right along with our da!” Anders shook his head. “Da already risks having our neighbors Sinclair and Gunn up in arms over an alliance between our clans.”
Stellan shrugged. “Against Domnhall? I doubt he cares what the clans to our north think.”
“And have ye forgotten which of us is attracted to her? ’Tisna me. Besides, I’ve had too many willing lasses to want an unwilling one, especially to wife.”
Stellan took another drink, then drummed the fingers of one hand on the arm of his chair. “Dinna refuse the idea out of hand. It solves our problems.” When Anders snorted, he added, “Da will sign the betrothal agreement with ye in mind. ’Tis up to ye to make her willing. Seduce her. In bed— nay, not until after the wedding, but with yer charm, the strength of an alliance with Sutherland, and how close we brothers are. Having Sutherland at her back at all times.”
“And wedding the brother she can have fun with, rather than the dour “older” brother who is in the same position she’s in, aye?” Anders shook his head again. “’Twill never work. She’s as attracted to ye as ye are to her. Forget it.”
Hope bloomed in Stellan’s chest, warm, yet strangely sharp and painful. Anders had sensed that she was interested in him? His twin was much better than he at picking up on such things, having spent much more time with the lasses. Until Anders’ comment, Stellan had remained unsure if Mariota felt the same as he did. Now that he knew, he wanted to smile, to laugh, to go to her. But it could never be that simple. Now that he knew, what good could come of it?
Three days later,Mariota was crossing the bailey when the guards up on the wall called for their laird. Not knowing what to expect, she returned to the door to the keep and waited to see what would happen. She’d enjoyed her time at Sutherland so far, and had learned a great deal. Perhaps she’d learn something else useful in whatever was about to transpire with Stellan’s father.
She appreciated the care she was being shown by everyone, but especially by the twins. And even more so by Stellan. Yet how could she let herself fall for him, knowing what their futures held?
Brìghde saw her and came to join her. They leaned on the sun-warmed stone by the door and watched the guards scurry across the wall walk, gesturing to each other and down toward the glen outside Dunrobin’s walls.
“Who do ye think it is?” Brìghde nodded toward the keep’s heavy gates. “Tisna someone they’re eager to allow entry, no’ until the laird gives his aye.”
The door at their side opened and the Sutherland laird came out, followed by stern-faced Stellan. The pair proceeded across the bailey without hesitation.
“We will soon hear what has caused the commotion,” Mariota said confidently. The Sutherland laird was decisive and not at all soft-spoken, not in her experience anyway, so they would know soon enough who was at the gates.
The laird and his heir mounted the steps to the wall walk and had a few words with the guard captain, then turned to regard the ground below them. Mariota was about to say they’d never find out at this rate when Stellan caught her gaze and beckoned.
Her belly clenched. His summons could mean only one thing. Her father had answered the Sutherland’s letter. He had arrived to take her home.
Brìghde patted her shoulder and pushed her across the bailey.
