“Ach, you’re just jealous,” Catherine said, a smile curving her lips. “I’ve seen how ye look at Alexander.”
Damn, Glynis was never good at lying. What else could she do to protect the child? If she told Alex what she’d seen, he would not believe Catherine intended to murder the child. And she could not blame him, for no one would. And yet, Glynis had never been more certain of anything in her life.
Glynis kept her gaze fixed ahead as she marched along the path. Her skin itched from the child’s damp heat soaking through the front of her gown. Though her arms grew weary, she held Sorcha tight against her. When they reached the fork in the path, Catherine stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“Let go of me,” Glynis said, her facade breaking.
“I’m doing ye a favor, Glynis, for we both know ye couldn’t keep a man like Alex satisfied,” Catherine said with her cat’s smile. “He’ll be in my bed tonight—and he won’t want to leave it.”
With that, Catherine turned and started up the fork that climbed the hill, her wet gown clinging to every curve.
Glynis understood why Shaggy had left the woman on a tidal rock.
* * *
Alex was in a foul mood as he waited for the guards to admit him into the Campbell chieftain’s private chamber. By now, D’Arcy would have told Glynis of his true intentions. Alex had put off visiting his daughter because he didn’t want to find Glynis weeping her eyes out over the Frenchman.
“The chieftain is ready for ye,” one of the guards said. “I’ll take your weapons.”
The Campbell chieftain had hundreds of warriors at his command and far more guards protecting his person than the regent had. Parting with his claymore and dirks worsened Alex’s mood. He never felt right without his weapons close to hand.
Inside the chamber, the Campbell chieftain and his brother John, the Thane of Cawdor, sat on ornately carved chairs with rich tapestries hanging on the wall behind them. Alex needed to keep his wits about him. This pair had proven they were crafty enough to hold on to power in the ever-changing currents of royal and clan politics.
The Campbell chieftain waved for his guards to leave the room, a symbolic gesture of trust. Unlike Alex, the two Campbells wore their weapons.
“My sister Catherine tells me you are the one who saved her from drowning,” the chieftain said when Alex had sat down in the single chair opposite them.
“’Twas fortunate I was there to offer assistance,” Alex said.
“We’re no pleased that ye stole horses from our men,” John, the Thane of Cawdor, said. “But we are impressed.”
“I only borrowed them,” Alex said.
“Someone murdered the Campbell fishermen ye met.” The chieftain’s black eyes burned bright with anger. “One of them lived long enough to tell us it wasn’t you.”
That was lucky.
“D’Arcy tells me ye had some difficulty with our new regent,” the chieftain said.
“Difficulty? Ach, the regent liked me so well he wanted to keep me as a permanent guest,” Alex said, and the two Campbells laughed.
“I like to discharge my debts,” the chieftain said. “I’ll make certain the MacDonalds of Sleat are not
“I appreciate that,” Alex said, and the chieftain nodded, accepting his due. Now for the difficult part. “As ye know, the Western Isles are swarming with rebels. By not joining them, my clan risks being attacked. For us to take the Crown’s side in this fight, we need a strong ally.”
The Campbell chieftain nodded and folded his hands. “That would be wise.”
“A marriage alliance is one means of binding our clans in friendship,” John said. “Once this matter with Shaggy Maclean is settled, our sister will be free to remarry.”
Sweat rolled down Alex’s back. He hoped they were not suggesting what he thought they were.
“I don’t have the authority to agree to a marriage on my chieftain’s behalf,” Alex said and hardly felt guilty for throwing Connor to the wolves.
“Catherine seems to favor you,” John said.
“Ach, I’m no more than a chieftain’s cousin.” Alex’s head was pounding. Now that the offer was being made, he was suddenly very certain he did not want to marry Catherine. “I’m sure ye will want someone more important.”
“After the marriage I arranged for her nearly ended in her death,” the chieftain said, “I’m inclined to let Catherine have her way this time.”
“Your sister is as fair a lass as ever graced the Highlands,” Alex said, “but I’ve already asked another to be my wife.” Though Glynis had refused him, he did ask.
“That pretty MacNeil lass?” John asked.
“Aye, and I’ve already bedded her,” Alex said. Under Highland custom, a promise to marry followed by a bedding made you as good as wed. Alex wasn’t telling them that the bedding had come before, and not after the promise. “I intend to negotiate the marriage contract with her father when we return.”
“I wish ye well,” John said, “but I suggest ye hide your wife’s dirk.”
