After the evening meal, Stellan joined the MacKay in his solar. As Anders, he could not turn down an opportunity to share a cup with his host. That was easy. Flirting with the clan’s lasses, as Anders would certainly have been doing, was not something he was comfortable with, and not only because it didn’t suit his personality. It also felt like betraying whatever was between him and Mariota. He couldn’t put a name to it, but he could tell the heat between them also affected her when they were close, more so when they shared a look, no matter how brief the glance. Even now.
Did she feel she was betraying him with his twin? She must be confused, and it was his fault. Why hadn’t he realized when he and Anders were concocting this mad scheme that Mariota would be caught in the middle, thinking she was now attracted to Anders. Would she fall for the man she thought was his brother and forget about him? Or would she figure out something wasn’t quite right?
Should he tell her? Could he trust her not to betray him— even accidentally?
And given that, as Anders, he was here to represent Sutherland and to… possibly… be accepted as the betrothedhusband to the MacKay’s daughter and heir, Stellan could only sip the ale and do his best not to down it in one gulp.
“Yer da gave me a letter before we left Dunrobin. I’ve read it. It mostly concerns the proposed betrothal agreement,” MacKay suddenly said.
Stellan choked back a swallow, fighting to keep the ale from shooting out his nose. He should have seen this coming. Stay sharp, he admonished himself.
“And?” He asked when he could get air past the burn in his throat and nose.
“Did yer brother ruin my lass?”
Stellan thanked whatever saints watched over him that he hadn’t taken another mouthful of ale.
“What? Why would ye even think that? Mariota herself said she’d been treated kindly and with respect.”
“A lass alone, coming upon a hunting party in the woods? I count her lucky no’ to be dead.”
So did Stellan. “She was never in any danger from us— from Sutherlands,” Stellan said and mentally kicked himself for the slip. MacKay knew he, not Anders, had been the one to bring her back to Dunrobin.
“’Tis why yer brother isna here in yer place, aye? Because he already?—”
“Nay!” Stellan had heard enough of this line of inquiry. “Yer daughter is unharmed, at least by any Sutherland. If ye are so intent on insisting she has been ruined, perhaps ye should force a confession out of Alber. He beat her, he tried to smother her the last time he got his hands on her. Perhaps he did more, and she hasna wanted to admit to it.”
“He hasna confessed to such as that. If he had, he’d be dead.”
Maybe it was the ale, but Stellan hated the way this man treated his daughter, and found himself unable to hold back.“Would he? Ye seem to have done little to protect her or punish him up to now.”
MacKay rose, and Stellan saw his life about to end, right here, right now. If he could not disarm the older man, he’d be sunk. He dared not kill him. Either way, Sutherland would be furious when he discovered which twin had come here, and MacKay might have the decency to be appalled at discovering he’d killed the Sutherland heir. But maybe not.
Instead of pulling a blade, MacKay walked toward the hearth, his back to Stellan.
“I’ve done what I must. What I promised long ago.” He paused, then added more quietly, “Perhaps that debt is long since paid.”
“What do ye mean?” Stellan couldn’t wait to hear the man justify his daughter’s treatment.
“None of yer affair.” He stared into the flames for a moment longer, then turned back to Stellan. “Yer da left open the idea of the betrothal. He offered ye, but didna make it binding, and made it clear Mariota’s situation here disturbed him. If her husband couldna protect her here, if he couldna take a significant role along with her, or if it was discovered she’d been ruined by her attacker, he’d withdraw his consent.”
So Da had tossed the decision back to MacKay. And given Anders a way out if he didn’t think the potential alliance would benefit Sutherland. That surprised Stellan, but pleased him, too, and demonstrated yet again how canny his father could be. Stellan waited, knowing the longer he remained silent, the more likely MacKay would feel the need to say more.
His patience was rewarded when MacKay turned away from the hearth and resumed his seat.
“Ye ken Domnhall holds Dingwall and has yet to return to Islay.”
Stellan nodded.
“What do ye think that means?”
“He thinks his control of Ross is firm. He didna continue the fight at Harlaw because he made his point, and rather than lose more men— on both sides —he quit the field. That’s my guess.”
“I’ll be glad to see him gone back to the isles. Friend or foe, he’s a dangerous man.”
“Ye supported him. Why would yefash?”
“Why would I no’? I’ve also fought against him.”
