Ali shook her head and smiled. “Definitely not.” She looked out over the campsite to the men mil ing about.
“Where’s Connor?”
“Over with some of the other lads. Doona’ fret. I told him to have a care fer a day or two. He has quite the bump on his noggin.”
“He does. Is Gordie gone?”
“Aye, hightailed it out of here at first light, along with the messenger. Now here’s some linens and soap. No one wil bother ye, lass.” He unsheathed his sword with a smile. “I’d no’ al ow it. I’l be over there.” He pointed out a large boulder just beyond the edge of the loch.
“Thank you.” Ali hobbled along the black sand beach until she found a secluded spot behind a cluster of rocks and low shrubbery. She shrugged out of her filthy gown and underclothes, leaving them in a heap in the brush. The cool, clear water lapped gently over her, taking some of the ache along with it. Her thoughts went to Rory and she wished he was with her, holding her in his arms. She missed him, more than she thought possible. The knowl edge she would soon be back with him was heartening, but only if she didn’t think of how little time they’d have to gether before he left her for the battle. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the gory images that haunted her.
“Ye havena’ drowned on me, have ye, lass?” Lord Mac
Donald’s deep voice jolted her from her musings.
“Nay . . . no, I’l be right there.” Ali paddled to shore. She quickly dried off and began to dress. She pul ed the 264
crisp white shirt over her head—it fel to her knees. She wrapped the red, green, and blue plaid around her as though it were a sari, quite pleased with herself until she walked toward Lord MacDonald and saw the look in his eyes. “Is something wrong?”
“Nay.” He patted her cheek. “The resemblance is un
canny is al .”
She sighed. “To Brianna?”
“Nay, to my wife. Come, I . . .” He looked down at her feet encased in the light suede boots. “I forgot to bring ye some linens to wrap yer wee foot.”
“I’m fine. The boots are a little snug, but it does the same as wrapping it would.”
“I wonder what the lad wil think when he gets a look at ye dressed in the MacDonald colors?” A wide grin split his handsome face.
Ali arched a brow. “I have a feeling you’d like to see that for yourself.”
“Aye, I might just.”
“You’d take me back—yourself ?” Ali couldn’t suppress her joy at the thought she could bring the two men together and find some way to avoid the battle, to save Rory and his clan, and maybe the man at her side.
“Now, doona’ be gettin’ yer hopes up. We’l no’ be leavin’
til the morrow. Ye had a rough go of it. I’l make my deci
sion then.”
Although Ali was disappointed she’d have to wait another day to see Rory, her backside was relieved. She wouldn’t be bouncing on a horse for one more day, and what better way to use her time than working on Lord MacDonald?
Ali fidgeted on the horse she shared with Alasdair MacDonald. “’Tis no’ much farther, my pet. Would ye like us to stop and give ye a wee rest?”
LORD OF THE ISLES
265
Connor let out an exasperated sigh as he rode beside them with one of the men-at-arms, and she bit back a grin. She didn’t blame him. Lord MacDonald insisted they stop every few miles for Ali’s benefit, and she was sure they’d doubled the length of time it took to get to Dunvegan be
cause of it.
“No, I’m fine, Alasdair. You don’t have to worry about me,” she said, cal ing him by his name—something he had insisted upon the night before as they sat by the fire shar
ing stories, Ali weaving her own experiences growing up with a made-up childhood along the borders. In two short days together they’d grown close. It was as though they’d known each other forever and adopted each other: Ali a substitute daughter for the one he had lost, and he a substitute father for the one she had never known. Because of the bond that had developed between them, Ali knew he would try to come to some sort of truce with Rory, although no promises had been made. But he didn’t rule it out either. For Ali it was a start. If she could just get the two men in the same room, some good had to come of it. It couldn’t get any worse, and she’d be damned if she’d let the two of them kil each other over a stupid piece of land.
“I ken yer gettin’ yer hopes up, lass, but he’s a stubborn one,” Alasdair said, as though he could read her mind. Ali snorted. “That’s what he says about you.”
“Harrumph. Are ye certain ye wouldna’ rather come to Armadale with me?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Connor stiffen. “I told you, Alasdair, I’m happy at Dunvegan. I’ve made friends, people I care about. The others wil have to warm up to me sooner or later.”
“Good—I doona’ like to think of ye bein’ unhappy.”
