“Ye ken— my brother fostered with him years ago.” Stellan hesitated. He’d nearly said that he rather than his brother had fostered with Domnhall.
“I didna. What has he told ye about his time there?”
Stellan shrugged. What could he say that would not sound like first-hand knowledge? “Ye ken Domnhall controls many islands and coastal areas. Stellan spent most of his time at Finlaggan and didna travel with the laird. He has the same tales of training with weapons that any fostered son would share. If our da thought he’d spend most of his time learning to rule from Domnhall, he was disappointed in his expectation.”
MacKay huffed. “A shame, that, I suppose.”
“I would be surprised to hear ye say that, save that ye seek an alliance with Sutherland.”
MacKay nodded. “I did. I might yet again. Go to yer rest, lad. I’ve much to consider. Leave me to it.”
Stellan breathed a sigh of relief and stood. He might not have to deal with the consequences of a betrothal as Anders after all. “Good night to ye, then.”
MacKay nodded again, his gaze locked in the distance, already distracted by whatever thoughts plagued him. Stellan left him to it.
He missed Anders. At home, after an interview with their father, they would sit by the fire in the great hall and talk. He hadn’t even been able to bring Tormund among the men withhim. He was Stellan’s friend. Anders would not have chosen him as a companion for something like this. Mariota was confined to her chamber, and though her father’s order had seemed punitive at first, Stellan was beginning to suspect it was truly meant to protect her. He didn’t see Seamus, but was gratified to see the rest of the Sutherlands bedded down near the stairs, along with a few MacKays he recognized. Stellan nodded to them, passed through them and climbed the stairs, headed to his chamber.
A door swung open as he approached and Mariota leaned out.
Mariota had been waitingfor Anders to come upstairs to his chamber, listening and watching from her door. She chafed at her confinement, even though they’d arrived home only hours before. She’d opened the door just enough to see out toward the stairs, but slight enough that she could slam it shut and lock it if Alber appeared.
She opened it fully when she saw Anders and stepped out into the hallway. She said his name softly. “I’m happy to see ye.”
“And I ye, lass. But ye shouldna be out of yer chamber. What will yer da say?”
“I willna tell him. Will ye?”
“Nay, of course, nay. Can I get something for ye? What do ye need?”
Her face heated. She needed him. Or did she? Was she simply lonely? Or did she miss his twin and hope Anders could stand in for him? “Just someone to talk to,” she admitted. “I dinna like being closed in.”
“Like yer hawk,” Anders said.
She tilted her head as a memory swamped her. She’d said much the same to Stellan days ago when they went riding along the firth. Maybe he’d mentioned her comment to Anders. Aye, that had to be the reason she felt this frisson of awareness spiraling through her chest.
“Aye, like Valkyrie.” She glanced aside at her open door, then leaned back against the hallway wall behind her and crossed her arms. “This isna the best place for a conversation. Would ye come in?” She knew how he would answer before he opened his mouth, but she’d felt she had to try.
“Nay, lass, no’ unless ye want to skip the betrothal and be wed in the morning.”
The idea held a certain appeal, and if Anders’ elder brother stood before her, she’d be tempted to grab his hand and pull him into her chamber, but nay, not this brother. Not yet. She would not be forced to wed someone when she was interested in another. She wanted Stellan, not Anders, despite the problems that would cause. Should she settle for Anders, knowing Stellan was out of reach? Not if she could help it. Not yet. She hoped not ever.
But something about Anders seemed different. Perhaps she was too tired to judge but he seemed more Stellan-like, more reserved, and the thrum of her blood in her ears told her something had changed. This, though, was not the time to try to understand what. “Ye are right. I’m sorry for suggesting it. Ye must be as tired as I. Dinna let me keep ye from yer rest.”
“Good night then, Mariota,” he told her.
On impulse, she reached up and cupped his cheek with one hand. Heat flared in his eyes and found an answer in her body— an answer she didn’t expect. The limpid fullness low in her belly spread throughout her blood, stealing her will to move. Who was this? “Ye…?”
He shook his head and stepped back. “Ye are tired, lass. Ye need to rest. Good night.”
He walked away.
She let him. She had to. She was too shocked to move. Was this Anders? Or Stellan? If this was Anders, how had she not felt the heat that just flared between them before now? The heat she thought she only felt with Stellan? The twins looked so much alike, could she be attracted to both of them?
She wrapped her arms around her middle. Nay, they were not alike, not really. Anders was more free, more jovial. Stellan was more quiet, solemn, duty-bound and… Stellan fired her blood and made her toes curl in her slippers. Could this be Stellan in truth, and not Anders as he claimed? Mariota collapsed against the wall. Now what should she do?
After a restless night,on the way to break her fast, Mariota saw Seamus and decided she needed to talk to him. With the friendship that seemed to be growing between him and Anders, perhaps Anders had let something slip that would help her decide which Sutherland son she was dealing with.
Even if her suspicions were unfounded, Seamus would know more about MacKay, including things she wasn’t privy to. She wanted his counsel. But when he saw her, he avoided her. Was he still angry with her that he remained on the night shift because of her? She told herself if he’d been on guard all night after traveling all day, and was just coming in to eat and rest, he would not be fit company for any lass. She took her seat and watched to see where he went. The other side of the great hall, of course. He really did not want to talk to her. She’d see about that— later. She knew him well enough to know she’d get nocooperation from him now. Tired or angry, he’d be in no mood to answer her questions.
