And then, as if all the forces of the universe converged into one forward, gentle pull, it happened. The crowd faded away, and all I could see or feel was his face and his magnetic draw. His lips were slightly parted, so close to my own. Those lips that had done unspeakable, transcendent things to my body. I craved him with every fiber of my being. And Wilkie, as though in response, touched his mouth to mine in a sweet, brief, very forbidden kiss.
The crowd murmured and buzzed. Someone whistled. A lewd comment was offhandedly tossed. AndMaisie Morrison was there, stepping in and claiming some kind of jurisdiction over what had just transpired. She smiled sweetly, her hand lightly placed on Wilkie’s muscular forearm, but her words were hissed more than spoken. “Wilkie, youmustn’t.”
I don’t believe it was her words that set him off or even the clasp of her fingers on his arm. He reacted only when she placed her hand on my shoulder, as though she might push me away.
“Take your hand off Roses,” Wilkie said, and his voice was colored with steely hostility.
She did, slowly, and with an expression of mild hurt, as if she couldn’t understand his coldness.
It was then that Wilkie leaped up on a chair. He stood tall and surveyed the crowd with confidence, wholly assured and comfortable in his own skin. He spoke evenly, with his voice only slightly raised; he already had the room’s undivided attention.
“Honored guests, friends and fellow clansmen,” he said, “I have an announcement I’d like to make.”
I almost called out to him, to stop him.Wait. There’s something I need to show you first, warrior,I thought.Now.
“Wilkie.”
It was the laird who spoke, not loudly but with broiling authority. I suspected it wasn’t Laird Mackenzie’s style to yell and force his will at his brother’s impulsive behavior, especially in this very public arena. I had no doubt he knew exactly what Wilkie intended to announce. He looked on the verge of erupting. The laird, as far as I could tell, was a patient, thoughtful and highly honorable man, and one who carried the weight of his entire clan quite clearly upon his shoulders.Occasionally, though, I detected a glimpse of a fiery inner turbulence in him, as though under his diplomatic exterior was a strictly tamed wildness—not unlike his younger brother’s—that shone out of his flashing light gray eyes. The sheer size of him made his anger a terrifying prospect. He rose from the table, making his request with a forced calmness. “We’ll discuss your announcement in my private chambers before we share your news with our guests.”
But Wilkie was too far gone.
“I mean to share it now, brother,” he said, to which several of the partygoers cheered.
“Wilkie!” roared the laird, and it was a forceful enough command to silence Wilkie, for now. “Come with me,” Laird Mackenzie added in a tone that left no room for argument. “We will meet in private to discuss this matter further.” He walked from the room in quiet outrage.
Wilkie grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him.
Maisie watched us go with wide eyes, and the frightened look on her face indicated she was almost having second thoughts about chaining herself to a man who might in fact be half lunatic.
Wilkie led me down the narrow hallway and into his brother’s private den, the same room where I’d dined with the Mackenzies and the laird’s officers once before. The fire and a number of candles were already lit, and a pitcher of ale with its matching cups waited at the center of the round table, as though this room was kept at the ready for impromptu meetings, like this one, at all times.
Laird Mackenzie was already seated at the table, and he was pouring three cups of ale. “Sit,” he said.
We sat, and Wilkie’s manner remained one of confidence. This comforted me and allowed me to cling to my last thread of hope.
“This has gone far enough,” said the laird brusquely.
“I quite agree, brother,” Wilkie replied. “I intended to settle the matter once and for all.”
The laird continued, and his voice was blazingly direct. “I am not a man who hungers for power, Wilkie, nor one who abuses it. I have always taken my brothers’ and my officers’ opinions to heart, and most of all yours. Today, however, is a day in which I must exercise my right to lead. Your judgment has clearly been impaired by your...feelings. But the decision has been made. You will marry Stella Morrison. It has been somewhat clear to us all that you do not favor Maisie. Taking that fact into account and also due to recent events regarding his daughters, Laird Morrison has decided that Stella will be the one to secure the new laird, as she likely should have been all along. She’s second in line, after all, and the eldest sister will leave for the nunnery, I’m told, as soon as the wedding has taken place. The arrangements have already been made. Laird Morrison and I have discussed it in detail, just hours ago. I sought you out to discuss this with you, brother, but you were nowhere to be found. The decision is final. The wedding will take place on the morrow.”
Hearing the words delivered in that authoritative, resolute timbre, I felt a numbness envelop me, as a thin gauzy film settled over me, stifling me and closing me down.
“Stella?” Wilkie said, in more of a statement than aquestion. I couldn’t quite tell if the ruling was disagreeable to him or beguiling, and the uncertainty only amplified my despair.
But then, Wilkie stood, balling his fists. His movements were lithe and powerful as he paced, his countenance dark and menacing. To me, he was glorious, even in his hotheaded state. Maybe evenespeciallyin his hotheaded state. I knew now, intimately, about the sensations his impetuousness could inspire. I grew secretly damp at the mere thought of it, even now, when I knew he was no longer mine. In my mind I was losing him, but my body was not yet willing to give up or give in.
“I’ll not marry Stella,” Wilkie growled, and his next phrase was spoken in deliberately emphasized single words. “I will marry Roses.”
He might have acted on his tempest, but the laird spoke his name in a calming and entirely forceful command.
“Wilkie. The Morrison keep—Glenlochie—as you know, is a prosperous one, with rich lands, strong walls, a large and picturesque manor, a growing, industrious clan. You wish to pass all that up? You prefer to remain here, as second-in-command, when you could be laird of your own jurisdiction, to guide and build and foster through your own learned, earned leadership?”
Wilkie’s heavy sigh was laden with layered frustration, the sound of it filling me with a small but insistent sense of dread. “I am willing to forego leadership of Glenlochie, aye,” Wilkie said. “Am I not a useful soldier to you, Knox? A contributing counselor and supportive second-in-command?”
“Of course you are, Wilkie. I cannot imagine a better officer. But that is not the point—”
“Knox,” Wilkie said, cutting off the laird. “I am secure in my contribution to my clan and familyhere,as your brother, and as your first officer, and I would prefer to remain in this role if it means I can remain true to myself—and to our mother’s last wishes.”
