Both men nodded and stepped away from her. She watched Anders move to his position on the other side of the gate. Save for Anders’ grin, she really could not tell him apart from Stellan. They looked, sounded, moved, and thought much the same. Only their temperaments differed slightly. Why shouldn’t she consider him for her husband instead of his brother? He was not tied to Sutherland as its heir, and he would make a good partner for her at MacKay— strong, thoughtful, cheerful, even wise. They seemed to have developed an attraction for each other that could grow, perhaps even into love. She would not be settling. She would be making a wise decision. Anders would be the best choice for her and for her clan. So why couldn’t she be happy about that?
At supper that night,Mariota suddenly stiffened like a hare confronting a wolf. Alber watched her, careless of who saw him giving her a sickening grin. Seamus was on the wall walk, back on night watch. She was not sure who was sitting beside her, Anders or Stellan. And her personal wolf was too near, licking his chops. Nothing seemed right. Little about her situation made sense to her. And having to tolerate Alber’s attention, even at a distance, made her regret letting her father force her into returning to MacKay.
She still had no idea what punishment her da exacted on him. He seemed not to have suffered at all. Why wasn’t he in the MacKay dungeon? She looked to her da, hoping to bring Alber to his notice, but his attention was elsewhere. And in front of the clan was no place to confront him. “Da,” she leaned toward him and said, “I wish to speak with ye in yer solar after the meal.”
He studied her for a moment.
Mariota held herself still and kept her expression calm. She didn’t want to give him a reason to turn her down.
“Very well,” he finally said, agreeing.
Mariota nodded and turned away from him, suddenly wishing she hadn’t requested the interview. She could only enrage her father, no matter how she asked the question at the front of her mind. Was Alber punished? And if not, why not? What did he mean to her da?
But she consoled herself that she’d made progress with him by being bold, confident, assertive. These questions were at the heart of her problems at MacKay. Her da owed her an answer.
In his solar, her father became as furious as she expected when she posed the first question.
“Ye should be more interested in yer future husband than Alber,” he told her with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow.
“If Alber has his way, I willna need one,” she asserted. “I’ll be his. Or I’ll be dead.”
“I am keeping Alber away from ye?—”
“Aye? Who was that, glaring at me at supper? Even when he canna reach me, he can threaten?—”
“Which does ye nay harm. I’ll speak to him again.”
“Why has he no’ been punished before now? Ye ken what he’s done. He should be in the dungeon or banished from MacKay for his attacks on yer heir.” Anyone else would be dead.
“Ye dinna ken what ye speak of.”
Mariota clenched her fists, not caring if he saw her do it. He still wouldn’t reveal what hold Alber had over him. “I ken fine, Da. Ye thought ye’d have a son to follow ye, but ye were left with me. If ye dinna support me, if ye canna ensure I am properly trained to manage MacKay, all of it, then the laird who follows ye may well lose all ye have worked for. Is that what ye want? Or are ye thinking of naming another as yer heir? One of yer men?”
His sudden stillness spoke volumes.
“Nay Alber,” she pleaded. “He’ll ruin MacKay in his first month.”
“Nay, I would never consider him.”
“Too bad he doesna ken that. He might leave me alone. Then who? And why will ye no’ tell me what I’ve asked of ye?”
“Ye dinna need to ken.”
That came as another punch to her gut. He would never do anything about Alber. “If ye mean to leave MacKay to me, ye owe yer clan to prepare me as ye would yer son so that I can lead and my husband can support me— and MacKay. I’m yer daughter, nay a son, but I am one of the best archers ye have, and a hawk mistress who can aid in the hunt. I have tried to learn what a laird must ken, but I havena had much help from ye. So I’m telling ye now. Ye must train me. Or tell me what else ye plan so that I can live my life elsewhere as I see fit.”
He stared off into space for a moment. “’Twill be yer husband’s problem to protect ye in the future, and to act as laird where ye arena capable. He must be someone who can be the clan’s war leader since ye canna.”
Her heart cracked in her chest at this confirmation that her father didn’t care about her, only about replacing her, or making a strong alliance with someone who could lead in her stead. He expected her husband to become laird in all but name. She fought back tears, and before he threw her out of the solar, she told him, “Factor this into yer planning, my laird. Since ye refuse to act, long before ye are gone and I become some semblance of laird, before he can hurt me again, I will see Alber dead.”
“Ye?” Her father’s laughter followed her out of the solar.
Aye, me, she thought, too angry for tears. There were many ways she could end Alber’s harassment. And if she failed, her future husband could avenge her. But first, she had to spend time with Anders Sutherland, seduce him into wanting her, supporting her, doing what must be done if it turned out her dawas right and she could not. Her da might refuse to believe it, but she knew she was in a fight for her life.
CHAPTER 12
Stellan arrived at the laird’s solar in time to hear Mariota threaten her attacker, then she burst out of the room, followed by her da’s laughter, and ran right into Stellan’s arms.
He pulled her aside. “That sounded intense. Are ye well?”
