A knock sounded at the door and she dashed to it. Agnes had come by a while ago to say there were hundreds of MacLeods outside and that she was to stay put until Malcolm called for her. She prayed no blood would be shed and that he and her father could speak as civilized men. She held on to that hope by a thread.

Hamish and Connor stood on the other side of the door and motioned for her to follow them. Her heart thudded with each step she took toward the great hall. She had no idea what to expect.

When they arrived, she moved to stand beside Malcolm and frowned when she noticed the angry red mark on his jaw.

She turned to face her father. “You struck him?”

His brows drew together. “Aye. And I will do more than that unless you tell me you are unharmed at his hands.”

“Father, Malcolm is my husband.”

“Did he force you?”

“No he did not.”

“But he abducted you.”

She turned back to look at Malcolm and smiled. She was very glad he’d abducted her, though she hadn’t been too fond of it or him at the time.

“Aye, he did. Neither he nor any MacDonald harmed me. I tell you that I am pleased with him, Father. Please do not quarrel. Listen to what he has to say and I promise you, all will be well.”

Her father scrubbed his jaw and eyed them both.

“Will you share a cup with me?” Malcolm asked.

“Aye, I will and I will listen to what you have to say, though I do not expect anything to change. Where is your father?”

“He is above stairs awaiting the Gordon to collect him.” When her father’s brow knit, Malcolm continued. “Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”

Sheona moved to sit by her father and was surprised when he captured her hand in his and smiled. “You are truly well?”

She smiled. “Aye, Father. I am.”

“Very well, what is it you wish to tell me?” The MacLeod turned to Malcolm.

“I have found a way to end the feud.”

Sheona was grateful that Malcolm did not waste any time launching into his plan.

“And exactly how do you imagine that possible, considering your last attack on us!” His cheeks flamed. He would not be easy to convince.

“I have been to the Privy Council.”

“And why is your father not telling me this?”

“As I said, he is above stairs awaiting escort.”

“I do not believe you. I wish to see him.”

This was most unexpected. Sheona watched Malcolm’s reaction. His jaw ticked and his eyes narrowed. As he weighed the options, she took the opportunity to observe her brother. He was a little gaunt from his time in the dungeon, but otherwise watched the scene playing out intently. What would he do were he in charge?

“Very well,” Malcolm said. “Hamish, bring my father downstairs. If MacLeod wishes to see him before learning of our plan, so be it.”

The hall grew eerily quiet while they waited for the MacDonald. Malcolm paced in front of the hearth and MacLeod stared at the staircase. After an age, Hamish returned with a man Sheona hardly recognized. He looked deflated. His white hair lay flat on his shoulders and his gaze was haunted, like he was in a nightmare from which he could not escape.

Her father stood and watched him approach. His eyes wide and his jaw slacked. “What the—” he whispered.

“My father has undergone a great change, MacLeod,” Malcolm said

“Aye, that he has.” MacLeod said nothing more until MacDonald was alongside him. “You are unwell.”

His comment appeared to bring MacDonald out of his trance. It was as though he noticed the other people in the hall only at that moment.

Sheona had mixed emotions. This man had frightened her so before; now he looked as harmless as a wee bairn.

“My father is turning over in the ground,” Malcolm’s father said.

MacLeod laughed. “Mine too.”

Malcolm stepped between them. “Will you both sit and listen?”

“Aye,” MacLeod said. “I hope there’s ale. I believe I may need it.”

Sheona sat next to her father and listened while Malcolm explained his trip to Inverness. She watched various emotions cross his face: anger, frustration, disgust, and finally, hope. Malcolm left out nothing when it came to expressing his true and honest feelings about the feud and the devastation it had caused.

“My father will be collected by Gordon, and you, MacLeod, will go with Argyll. You will both enter into peaceful negotiations with the intent to end this feud once and for all. If those talks break down, I will replace my father and Alasdair will replace you. Are we understood and in agreement?”

Long moments ticked by as the two chiefs eyed one another. Sheona had never known a moment in her life when both of these men had not despised one another. Whatever had transformed the MacDonald must have been powerful indeed.

Tell him to concede.

The voice caught her off guard and she jumped. She wasn’t sure if she should say anything under the circumstances. It was not her place and Malcolm appeared to have everything well under control.

She shook her head.

You must tell him, Sheona. He hesitates. I can feel it in him. His anger rises with each passing second as old hate and doubt fill him.

Malcolm caught her eye and his brow drew inward. “Are you unwell, wife?”

She forced a smile, hoping he would not guess at her turmoil. Though she would never hesitate to voice her opinion to her father and clansmen, since they’d always indulged her that way, she wouldn’t dream of interfering in a critical matter such as this. One wrong word and there would be bloodshed. She doubted any one of them would leave this room alive if that were to happen.

Sheona! Tell him to concede. He will listen to you, I promise. Tell him!

“You must concede!” Her words echoed throughout the great hall. All heads turned her way and it took her a moment to realize she’d actually toppled her chair when she jumped up.

Both chiefs turned to look at her. Malcolm looked like he would throttle her. Too late now, she must see this through regardless of the consequences.

“You both must.” She drew in a deep breath and tried to steady herself. “My husband is right. We cannot continue in this manner. Father, the town of Bracadale has little left in it to call a town. MacDonald, you have seen as much devastation on your end as well. How many more lives would you both sacrifice because of your hatred?”

Sheona waited. At any moment, a great battle would erupt; she could almost feel it rising to the surface, as though the evil behind it were a seething entity seeking hosts. She prayed the men at this table wanted a peaceful outcome.

* * *

Malcolm watched Sheona express her demand. She was glorious in her stance, her hair falling loose about her shoulders and her cheeks flushed from her outburst. He had not expected such from her, but revelled in the message she sent. This wisp of a lass had the guts to stand up to the two most powerful warrior chiefs in the Highlands. He smiled. He had to admit she was more than a little intoxicating in that moment. He wanted her, despite the inappropriate timing.

The two chiefs glared at one another.

“It is possible a grandchild of both of yours grows in my belly,” Sheona said. “Do you want him or her to know peace or war? The choice is yours.”

With that she kissed both men on the cheek and left the great hall. The incredulous look on both men’s faces was almost humorous. Perhaps under different circumstances he might have laughed. For now, he was grateful she’d said what she had.

MacLeod cleared his throat. “My daughter is a fierce negotiator. She makes a good point.”

MacDonald nodded. “Aye that she does. I am glad my grandchild will grow up at Knock Castle. He will add much joy to this hall.”

MacLeod shook his head. “No, MacDonald. ’Twill be her choice where she lives and we all know she will prefer Dunvegan. My grandson will love the seals.”

“See here—”

Malcolm stood. “By God if this feud begins again over where we will live, I will pack up everything and move to Ireland.”

The two older men stopped and stared at him, then promptly burst out laughing.

“You would not dare,” his father said.

“They have less than we do,” MacLeod said.

“Then you two will stop bickering over everything and when bidden, go and fix this mess you are both responsible for. Understood?”

They both mumbled their agreement like scolded children.

“Now, I must see to my wife. Can I trust you to not stick a blade in each other while I’m gone?”

“You have my word,” MacLeod said.

His father nodded. “Mine too.”

“Good, now eat and drink. Today shall be a day of celebration for my wedding.”

Malcolm did not wait to see if anyone agreed or not. He wanted nothing more than to see his beautiful wife and show her just how much she’d come to mean to him.

He found her in their chamber, sitting by the window and gazing out over the sea. Her hair flamed when the sun hit it and despite her petite form, she dominated the room.

She turned when he closed the door. It was then he saw the tears in her eyes.

“Why do you weep?” He walked toward her, aching to pull her into his arms.

“I think she’s gone.”

“Who?”

“The White Lady. Your mother. I cannot feel her anymore.”

Malcolm didn’t understand. “Why does that make you weep?”

“I feel them when they come to me. And when they go, I am empty. It has always been this way. Though I have never felt it so strong.”

He pulled her up into an embrace and smoothed her hair. “What you did downstairs was a very brave thing. I am proud of you, Sheona. We have been through much, you and I.”

She laughed softly. “Aye that we have. Right from the first time we met when you tried to grope me in cellar.”

“I was looking for weapons.”

“You had the only interesting weapon.” She looked up at him and grinned. “You recall I had a dagger strapped to the thigh you didn’t explore.”

“Aye. I remember. Though, had I ventured across your body, you may not have made it out of the cellar with your virtue intact.”

She gasped. “You would not have forced me would you?”

“Of course not, my little wanton wife.” He kissed her neck and felt her tremble. “You would have responded to me then as you do now. You cannot resist my charm.”

She laughed outright until he nipped her earlobe with his teeth. She sighed. “What happened below after I left?”

Malcolm pulled back and stared into her eyes. “You really want to talk about that?”

She smiled. “I guess since you are here, there is no fighting and so, aye, we can talk about it later. Take me to bed, husband.”

Malcolm scooped her up and strode to the bed. He placed her in the middle and lay alongside, stroking her hip.

He looked into her eyes and marvelled at her beauty. She was the most enchanting creature he’d ever beheld.

“I love you, Sheona MacDonald.”

She traced her finger over his scar and smiled. Somehow she made him forget he even had it when she looked at him like that.

“I love you too, Malcolm MacLeod.”

“You go too far, wife. Everyone knows the woman takes the man’s name.”

She rolled over on top of him, straddled him, and grinned. Her hair fell all around them, like a secret screen keeping the world out. In here there was no feud, nor anything that could distract from the love they shared.

“In my bed chamber, I may call you what I wish.”

“Is that so? And what makes you think you can get away with it?”

“Because I know how to make you yield.”

“Oh do you?”

“Aye.”

His pulse quickened. He wanted her to do anything and everything to him.

“Show me.”

Sheona started at his neck and brushed soft kisses there and along his jaw. He swallowed hard when she hovered above his mouth. Her soft breath fanned his face and his loins tightened when she tilted her hips to make contact with his erection.

“Ahhh woman, you know what I like.”

“That I do, husband.”

She closed her lips over his and kissed him long and deep. He grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her back so he could return the favour. He loved her with abandon until they were both boneless and gasping for breath.

A future with her, and without a bloody feud, was more than any man could ever hope for. He curled his arm around her and lay on his side. She’d been the key and the answer all along and he thanked whatever force had brought them together.