ald. Besides, the MacLeod is no’ at Dunvegan. He’s on the Isle of Lewis.”
“But it’s been weeks. I thought the battle would be over by now.” Ali’s hand went to her throat. “He isn’t hurt, is he?
Please tel me he’s al right.”
“Aye, the lad’s wel , more’s the pity. They’ve beaten the adventurers back. No need for them to remain, but they do. It appears the lad is in no hurry to return to Dunvegan, and I’m certain I ken why. Ye should’ve listened to me, Aileanna. He’l no’ be able to live with himself fer riskin’
his clan on account of ye.”
Her aunt, who must have been keeping an eye on them, chose that moment to appear at Ali’s side. “Alasdair MacDonald, shame on ye fer sayin’ such a thing to yer daughter. Come, poppet, ye look a mite overheated.” She shushed Alasdair and led Ali from the room. Ali threw up her arms. “He’s so stubborn, he’s mad dening. He’s —”
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Her aunt chuckled. “Doona’ worry, we’l figure somethin’
out. Mayhap ye should take a strol in the gardens, poppet. Yer father had the torches lit and I’m thinkin’ a wee breath of air is just what ye need. Take yer mantle with ye, though. ’Tis a mite chil y out.”
Rory’s hands tightened on Lucifer’s reins. “I’l no’ say it again, Reggie. I’ve come fer Lady Aileanna Graham,” he roared at the MacDonald’s man-at-arms, a warrior he’d faced often in battle.
“And I told ye, MacLeod, there’s no Lady Aileanna Graham here. And the laird doesna’ want ye on his lands.”
In the shadows, Rory saw the slash of white as the idiot grinned.
“Open the bloody gates. Lady Aileanna is my betrothed and no’ you or the MacDonald wil keep me from her.”
“Is that so? Do ye hear that, lads? MacLeod here thinks Lady Aileanna is his betrothed.” The man guffawed with his companions on the parapet.
One of the other men laughed. “I doona’ think the young bucks in there vyin’ fer her hand would be too pleased to hear that, do ye, Reggie?”
Reggie rested a foot on the stone ledge and leaned over, tugging on his fiery red beard. “Like I said, MacLeod, we have only one Lady Aileanna here, and she’s a
gan. Have a nice ride.”
Rory cursed roundly. He was getting nowhere with the fools, and if MacDonald thought he could keep him from Aileanna, he’d best think again.
He brought Lucifer around and headed back the way he’d come. Raucous laughter fol owed him on a blustery wind. The stal ion snorted puffs of white frost. Rory patted Lucifer’s thickly muscled neck. “Doona worry, boy, we’re 324
no’ goin’ far.” Once they were out of the laughing men’s line of sight, he changed direction, making a wide circle of Armadale to the woods at the back.
Rory’s gut boiled. Anger and frustration steamed from his pores. MacDonald had gone mad. It was the only reason Rory could come up with to explain the man claim
ing Aileanna as his daughter, and worse, trying to marry her off. Like hel he would. She was his. Rory brought Lu cifer alongside the back wal . Since MacDonald was at peace with most of the clans at the moment, including Rory’s, he would have no men guarding the isolated area.
“Hold, boy.” He stood unsteadily on the saddle, his legs weak from his long trek. The muscles in his arms strained and burned as he clung to the top of the stone ledge. Find
ing purchase with his foot in a crack in the wal , he heaved himself over. The momentum sent him to the top, and he lowered himself to the ground. With a soft thud he landed in the frozen earth behind a tree. He dragged himself to his feet and pushed aside the branches. Aileanna. Rory sucked in a ragged breath, his chest so tight it hurt. Her head tipped back, moonlight kissed a pro file so perfect it looked as though it was carved in marble. Her pale hair gleamed in soft waves down her back. Awestruck by her beauty, he stumbled from the shadows of the tree.
Aileanna slowly turned. Her lips parted. “Rory,” she whispered. “Oh, Rory.” Laughing and crying, she ran down the narrow path to throw herself in his arms. He clung to her as though his life depended on it, on her. She showered his face with soft kisses, and Rory choked back a sob. He speared his fingers through her hair and looked into her emotion-fil ed eyes before he crushed her lips with his. His kiss fierce and demanding, hot and wet, he devoured her, inhaled her sweet, familiar scent.
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Only when he felt her tremble did he reluctantly ease back, his breathing harsh, hers the same. “Yer cold.”
Her eyes searched his face as though memorizing every detail. He winced, realizing what he must look like, what he must smel like.
“I’m sorry, mo chridhe. We’d just returned from Lewis and I rode straight to Armadale. I ken I doona’ smel par ticularly fine at the moment.”
