“Alber would never?— ”
“He spread his hand over my face to keep me from breathing— until I did my best to smash his cods. What did ye expect me to do when Da didna bother to see if I still lived?”
“Climbing out yer window was a childish, dangerous stunt, Mari. How do ye think anyone will accept ye as laird if ye use judgement that poor?”
His words hurt, but angered her, as well. “Poor? I couldna count on the MacKay to protect his own heir. So I took my protection into my own hands. I’d say it worked out well.” She gestured toward the Sutherland men arrayed at a distance around them, but didn’t let her gaze linger on Anders. “Would ye nay agree?”
“Ye were lucky, lass.”
“Aye, I was. I ken that.”
He huffed out a breath. “Ye have friends and supporters here among MacKays. Ye didna need to bring Sutherlands back and rub yer da’s face in their presence. And ours.”
Seamus could always make her think twice. But not about this. “I’m sorry ye are hurt by their presence, but ye are wrong. I needed exactly that to break through Da’s indifference. And it seems to be working.”
“For yer sake, Mari, I hope so.”
She turned away from him. Valkyrie stooped on a hapless coney but Mariota didn’t signal for her hawk to bring the kill to her. She’d let her have this one, and the next would go to Cook. Just like she’d let her da keep her confined— within limits —but in the end, she would be laird and if her da hadn’t done it, she would eliminate the threat Alber posed, one way or the other. Eventually. She watched as Valkyrie tore into the coney, doing as instinct drove her to do.
Mariota glanced toward Anders, recalling the instinctive heat that flared between them— and between her and his brother. Did she really want the responsibility she was destined to inherit? At times like this, wrestling with her da for control of her own life, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be in charge of the clan, or just herself. If she wanted either Sutherland twin, orjust Stellan. With Anders by her side, she could bear the future laid out for her. But if what she felt with him was truly only an echo of what she felt with Stellan, she would have to give up her destined future.
Even before she met the Sutherlands, she’d had doubts. There were times when the idea of abdicating attracted her, as she’d once told Stellan. Now, that idea was gaining prominence.
Had her notion of running to Inverness or Sterling been more hopeful or utterly foolish? Inverness was close, but perhaps too close. Easily within her father’s reach. And they’d heard Domnhall had done a great deal of damage there last summer before moving on toward Aberdeen. Besides, where would she live in that town with a hawk? Sterling would have been a better choice if the court was there. Surely they had a mews and hunting birds. She would be farther from home and less easily retrieved if she could find a patron at court to protect her.
She decided she was being foolish. A lass alone? She’d already risked too much when she left MacKay the first time, though fortune had smiled on her when she met the Sutherlands. She couldn’t count on such good fortune again.
In any case, she was smart enough not to do anything else rash. She’d made headway with her da. She had finally forced him to pay attention to her. More than that, he was forced to bargain with her. His anger and irritation were far better than him refusing to deal with her and locking her away, out of sight. She’d keep working on him, keep her guard up against Alber, and let the chaos in her mind and in her life play out until she saw a clear path. One that made sense for her, for the clan, for the Sutherland twins, and even Seamus, as well. That was a lot to take on her shoulders, but her da had placed much of it there, with more to come if or when she did become the MacKay laird.The rest, she accepted. She could make sense of all of this. She would.
CHAPTER 11
With tension tightening his shoulders, Stellan watched Seamus upbraid Mariota. He was tempted to intervene. Across the width of the keep’s gate, they were still close enough that he could hear what was said when they raised their voices, but much of their conversation they held to low tones and strained expressions. Stellan’s sympathy for Mariota was based on her danger from Alber and her father’s inaction. Seamus adding to that mix seemed unfair, but the longer Stellan watched, the more convinced he became that Mariota was holding her own with her friend. Not just holding her own. Something seemed to crystallize within her. Her shoulders went back and she straightened as if she’d come to a decision. For her sake, he hoped it was a good one. The fact that they were out here watching her hawk hunt coneys demonstrated in a small way her determination to carve out her own future. Stellan’s respect for her grew even more for that.
No lass should be treated the way her father had treated her. But things seem to be changing between them. If the man was sincere, he’d include her in meetings and judgements, giving her the training an heir should have in how to run a clan and mediate disputes. That would tell Stellan that the MacKayfinally listened to his daughter and was taking her seriously. Respecting her determination to set things right, for herself and for the future of the clan, would be a significant step in the right direction on his part. Stellan hoped he lived long enough to see it happen.
He pulled his gaze away from the argument, now more of a discussion, taking place across the gate’s wide opening. He was out here to keep watch, but the only thing he had been watching was Mariota. Despite the presence of other guards with them, Seamus had been focused on her, and so had he. That was foolish.
He glanced up and grimaced as his heartbeat suddenly accelerated. Alber leaned casually on a merlon, watching Mariota from the wall walk. Damn it, how long had he been up there? Any time Stellan saw Alber anywhere near her, in the great hall, the bailey, or anywhere in passing, the man watched her like a wolf scenting prey, still and focused, with deadly intent. Despite his deceptively relaxed stance, this was no exception. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw clenched, like a wolf ready to jump on its prey. Alber noticed Stellan staring at him and returned the stare with open hostility, then dragged a finger across his throat in a parody of using a blade.
Stellan took a chance and turned his back. Alber wouldn’t dare strike while Seamus and others could see him, no matter how much he wanted to.
It was no secret that he, as Anders, had been chosen to lead the Sutherlands here, not just to keep Mariota safe, but for a possible betrothal. If Alber thought she was about to be wed to a warrior who could defend her better than her father ever had, he might move up his timeline and take advantage of any opportunity to attack her sooner.
Seeing how blatantly Alber displayed his malice, Stellan swore no matter if he never wed the lass, he would not leaveher to be assaulted by that man again. Even the serving lasses seemed to give him a wide berth as they passed by his seat at the table. Alber clearly was not to be trusted around lasses, not just Mariota, but what effect was he having on the rest of the clan?
Stellan had already seen factions forming among the MacKays. Some smiled at him, trying to make a good impression on the man who might marry their next laird. Some glared, like Alber, as if he were the enemy, to be vanquished. Did their attitudes reflect open disrespect for their laird? They certainly felt free to glower at an important guest. This clan seemed to be at a dangerous crossroads in leadership.
Stellan was sure there was more going on here than just one angry man threatening a lass. He’d never had such feral glares directed his way, never so many hopeful, pleading glances, either. Something was wrong here. Surely some of that had reached the MacKay’s ears. His inaction remained a mystery Stellan wanted solved.
He needed a word with her father and soon. Given their past conversations, how to protect her without insulting the laird would be tricky. Too bad he wasn’t Anders. His twin’s diplomatic skills were greater than his. But Alber’s open hostility toward Mariota made another confrontation with the MacKay inevitable.
Mariota noticedAnders glaring up at the wall walk. She suspected Alber had appeared, but she would not look up and give him the satisfaction of having her attention on him. If he had been doing more than watching, if he’d been threatening her or Valkyrie, Anders would have moved her somewhere safer than standing below the keep’s wall. But he seemed content tocontinue the staring contest he was engaged in, so she moved a few steps farther away and trusted that he or Seamus would let her know if anything changed. She liked the idea of giving Alber her back. It would insult him, infuriate him, and might provoke him to action that her guards could react to, that the other MacKay guards on the wall would see, and that would convince her father to banish him.
Nay, that would mean if she left the keep, which she would do, he would still be free to threaten her— and with vengeance in mind, she knew he wouldn’t go far. She didn’t like where that thought led, but she’d had it before, and that the reality of the alternative— seeing him dead —might be the only way she’d ever have peace in her own home.
She glanced around at Anders. He had turned his attention from the wall walk back to her. Alber must have gone away from his post. Anders moved into the open gate, watched the bailey for a few minutes, before turning to her.
“Alber?”
