Thirteen
They stopped just inside the hall when the king held up his hand for them to do so. He sat at the dais with an empty spot to his left, which he motioned for Iain to take. As Iain made his way to the dais, Bridgette felt the king’s curious gaze on her and was glad when he turned his head to speak privately with Iain for a moment.
Alex leaned toward her. “Archibald Douglas sits to the king’s right. Next to Archibald is Robert Erskine, and next to him is John Danielson. At the end is the steward,” he whispered. “Dunnae ye ken it’s interesting that the king sits his nephew the farthest away from him in the least important seat? The king suspects what I’ve said from the start—his nephew is not as faithful as he wishes to appear.”
She gaped at her brother. Why did he act as if he knew the king’s mind?
The tap of footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned her head to see Lachlan entering the great hall. Her breath caught in her throat at the agony and helplessness in his eyes. She could only imagine what he was thinking and feeling. Her own thoughts made her throat tighten and her head pound. Lachlan could not fight for her. If he made his desires known here, it would be like purposely destroying the already-tattered bond with his brother.
The seer’s prediction echoed in her head. She feared Lachlan would not stay silent when he must. He strode past her to sit at the first table, and then came Graham, who walked much slower than Lachlan due to his limp.
Graham paused in front of her, took her hand, and kissed the top of it. “Dunnae fash yerself,” he said, his voice confident.
Guilt and fear made Bridgette tremble. She could not see how this was going to end well. Next came Colin, who gave her that same triumphant look, as he had when she had first seen him on the birlinn, and after Colin came Cameron, who closed the great wooden doors with an ominous thunk.
She was the only woman present. Her heart thudded at this. She was the only woman present because it was a man’s game to give a woman away against her wishes like a prize and not a person. She curled her hands into fists.
“Bridgette MacLean, come forward,” King David commanded, his curt tone almost an affront to the silence that had been.
Queasiness swept through her as if she was going to faint, and the weakness angered her. She was strong. She had to make herself move. She walked forward on legs that wobbled, but she somehow managed to pause the appropriate distance from the king and curtsy, as was proper. He motioned her closer until she was standing in front of the dais with the men above her. She had to tilt her head up to see the king.
“Ye are ready to be biddable, I presume, as is expected as a faithful subject and sister of a laird whose friendship I hold dear. I’m sure ye wish to keep it so.” His dark eyes flashed a warning, and she knew then that she had been cleverly told to do as she was commanded or else her brother would possibly feel the sting of the king’s anger.
Any thoughts of protest slipped from her head as the need to protect Alex presented itself. “Aye, Yer Majesty.”
He gave a nod, as if he had expected no less, and his gaze roamed slowly over her from foot to head. A blush at his obvious inspection of her person heated her face.
“I see now why we are here,” he said. The trace of humor that laced his tone was belied by his severe expression. “Ye’re verra bonny.”
“I’m nae special,” Bridgette responded, as she always did when people made mention of how she looked. She had always wanted to be judged by what was on the inside, not the outer shell that would diminish with age.
King David’s eyebrows arched, showing his surprise. “’Tis an unusual woman who does nae care for praise,” he said in a courteous but patronizing tone.
Bridgette’s face grew hotter, but she held the king’s gaze. “Beauty wanes, Sire, but honor and faithfulness—those things dunnae lessen.”
“Spoken as if ye have the mind of a man,” he said, his voice no longer patronizing but tinged with surprise. “Ye are a prize to be sure.” She had to grit her teeth to keep from saying anything. He waved his hand at her. “Ye may sit now that I have taken yer measure.”
She turned, expecting to make her way to the table alone, but Graham came forward and proffered his arm, which she took. He drew her close and said loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “I’ve missed ye.”
She did not look at Lachlan. She dared not. Yet she could feel the barely leashed vexation in him reaching out and brushing her. Her nostrils flared as she licked her lips. “Ye look well, Graham,” she replied, picking harmless words so not to give him false hope, yet words that were also ambiguous and would not shame or hurt him.
He grinned. “Thank ye.”
“The lass can manage to seat herself, Graham,” the king said in a stern tone that left no doubt that Graham’s impulsively coming to her had stoked the king’s ire.
She removed her hand quickly and scuttled past Graham to take a seat at the closest table. The king had a stubborn, arrogant face, and when he swept his gaze across the room at the men, she noted that arrogance did not fade.
“I’ve traveled a long road, nae only today but since my release from captivity. I’ve ridden hard all over my land to reward those who remained faithful to me while I was imprisoned.” The king swept his hand to his right. “Have I nae rewarded faithfulness, Robert?” David asked his nephew.
Bridgette had an uneasy feeling that there was much more to the king’s speech and his questions than she comprehended.
“Aye, David, ye have,” Robert responded.
“See there,” the king boomed. “I am generous to those who are true. Why, I have granted much land to my nephew who acted as regent in my absence. The steward owns so much of my land now that he controls much of western and northern Scotland. Am I worried?” the king demanded in a hard, ruthless voice.
For a moment, silence greeted his question. Then he slammed his fists upon the dais, making the goblets jump and rattle. “Am I worried?” he roared.
“Nay.” Lachlan was the first to answer. “Ye ken well those who are faithful and those who are false.”
“Aye, I do,” the king said, his voice cutting like deadly steel across the air. “What will I do to those who prove false? To those who question my rule?”
“We will crush them,” Iain replied, his tone unbending.
On the dais, murmurs of agreement came from all the men, but Bridgette could not help but notice the steward shift uncomfortably. She wished she could turn to see Colin’s expression, but she could not dare. Had she just witnessed the king letting his nephew know he suspected he was not loyal? She thought she had, and unease gripped her. If the steward was plotting something, he would not be doing so alone. Who were his allies? The Campbells?
Before she could think upon it further, the king spoke again. “I hear grumbles in the air that some say I have changed during my captivity, and I tell ye, I have. Go forth with my blessing after this day and spread my words: I am nae a puppet king to be controlled by any man’s strings, noble or otherwise. I will reward faithfulness and crush those who seek to place their wills over my own, but I am just and want only what is good for Scotland. And I may well nae be sitting here today if it were nae for Colin Campbell, who has proven his worth and faithfulness to me on the road when bandits came out of the woods and tried to strike me down.”
“Do ye ken who the bandits might be, Sire?” Lachlan questioned.
“Nay, but I ken they are cowards,” the king snarled.
“Aye!” all the men who had been with the king agreed.
The king nodded. “They dunnae wear plaids to identify who they are faithful to, but I will discover it.”
When David looked directly at Lachlan, realization struck, and she had to stifle a gasp. Lachlan was pledged to marry Helena because the king suspected the steward and the Campbells were plotting against him, and he needed proof. He needed to know who else was involved.
The king turned his penetrating gaze to Bridgette. “I bid Colin to request a reward from me, and he requested yer hand.”
Was this his way of asking her what she wanted?
She opened her mouth to speak when he turned his attention to Graham. “The young MacLeod,” King David said, motioning to Graham, “made his desire to wed ye known and begged me to rethink my offer of reward.” The king leaned back in his seat. “I have thought upon it, but I kinnae see the honor in revoking my word once given.”
God’s bones! The king was going to give her to Colin to marry!
She fisted her hands by her side, wanting to screech her protest but knowing her brother would pay for her outbursts. Alex stepped forward, but before he could speak, Graham stood and moved to the center of the room.
“Where is the honor in forcing a woman to marry one man when she wishes to marry another?” Graham demanded.
Bridgette’s jaw dropped open in horror. The king rose to his feet. “Are ye questioning my honor, Graham?”
Iain rose to stand by the king. “Nay, Sire. He would never—”
“I ken how to speak for myself, Iain,” Graham growled.
Iain glared in return. “Ye dunnae ken when to stay silent, though, do ye?”
Graham’s face turned red. “I kinnae stay silent when the woman I intended to ask to be my wife is being given to another. And a man she already made known she dunnae wish to marry, at that.” Graham focused on Colin. “Dunnae ye have any pride? Why would ye wish to marry a woman who dunnae want ye?”
Bridgette barely stifled a groan at Graham’s words.
The sound of Colin’s sword being drawn made a high-pitched hiss in the room. He moved in blur to stand before Graham. Just as the man drew his sword upward to point it at Graham’s chest, Lachlan was there behind Colin, his dagger at the man’s neck. Lachlan’s face appeared calm compared to the savage snarl that twisted Colin’s lips, but the menace in Lachlan’s eyes made Bridgette shudder. He would not hesitate to kill to protect Graham, and Graham looked enraged at the fact.
Colin smiled at Lachlan and slowly lowered his sword. “My fight is nae with ye,” he said.
Contempt filled the smile Lachlan offered, even as he slowly lowered his dagger and sheathed it. “If ye intend to harm my brother, then we have a quarrel.”
“Do ye fight all the lad’s battles, then?” Colin jeered, as he stepped away from Lachlan and glanced at Graham.
Graham’s face twisted into a mask of hatred, but all that anger was focused on Lachlan. Bridgette knew the moment Lachlan realized it, as well, by the visible flinch of his body and the slight widening of his eyes. Her heart twisted in pain for both brothers—Lachlan thinking only to protect Graham, and Graham, she now saw clearly, so jealous of Lachlan that it overshadowed everything.
Graham shoved Lachlan in the chest. “I dunnae need ye to fight my battles!”
Lachlan gave a tight nod and strode back to the seat he had vacated.
Colin chuckled mirthlessly. “I’m glad to hear ye fight yer own battles, Graham MacLeod. If the king will permit”—Colin glanced toward King David, who appeared oddly contemplative, as if he might be trying to discern how to use the situation to his advantage—“let us cross swords in combat. Whoever draws first blood wins the right to Bridgette’s hand.”
“Nay!” Bridgette gasped, unable to stifle her protest. Too many times men died in such battles, and beyond that horrid fact, she did not wish to marry either man.
The king quirked an eyebrow at her. “Are ye nae happy to have braw Scots wish for yer hand?”
Bridgette ground her teeth at her predicament. If she appeared unbiddable, Alex would suffer. “I dunnae wish to see anyone injured,” she muttered, left with nothing else she could say.
“Dunnae worry for me, Bridgette,” Colin said. “Both my legs are good, aye.” He chuckled once again, and Bridgette glared at the man. He was despicable.
“It’s nae ye I’m worried about. I dunnae care whether ye live or die,” she snapped.
Colin narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. “Ye will have to learn obedience as my wife.”
“Then ’tis a good thing, I’ll nae be yer wife.”
“Cease this!” the king thundered. “The men will cross swords on the morrow—”
“Sire,” Lachlan interrupted, desperation edging his tone. “Graham is injured. Let me stand in for him.”
“Nay!” Graham growled. “It is my right alone to fight for Bridgette, if it pleases ye, Sire.”
The king nodded. “It’s settled. Whoever draws first blood tomorrow will be the winner, and—” the king stared hard at Alex “—I’m sure yer biddable sister will be fine with this as she knows it’s for the good of her clan to do as ye wish and as ye ken yer king wishes.”
Alex glanced at her, his look questioning, and she knew in that moment, he was asking without words if she could accept this or if he should defy his king. Her heart swelled with love for her brother that he would be willing to go to war with his king, a man he respected, admired, and called friend, for her. She gave a subtle shake of her head. She could not ask that. Too many lives could be lost if she was correctly interpreting the subtle warning from the king.
Bridgette swayed where she stood, and when the king waved his hand in the air and ordered everyone to depart but Iain and Lachlan, sinking anguish caused her to stumble. She would never be Lachlan’s wife. She would never know the feel of him against her again. She felt his burning stare upon her, even as Graham took her by the elbow to steady her. She felt adrift, as if she floated in the loch, lost with no way to find the shore.
“Shall we walk by the water?” Graham offered, smiling at her.
She nodded and allowed him to lead her from the room. She did not glance back, afraid her misery would be obvious for all to see.
As she and Graham walked out to the seagate stairs, she asked him of his trip, not wanting to talk of her feelings until they were alone and she was sure no one would overhear. When they came to the end of the stairs and made their way to the edge of the water, she turned and faced him. She had to tell him she knew she would never love him. Even if he recanted his wish to marry her and she then had to marry the despicable Colin, better that sorry fate than to enter into a marriage with lies in her heart. She could not be so dishonorable to Graham.
She took a fortifying breath and spoke. “Graham, I need to tell ye something.”
He grinned down at her. “Ye pined for me the whole time I was gone?”
Her gut clenched, and her throat ached as she grasped his arm. “Even if we marry, Graham, ye’ll nae ever have my heart.”
He gave her an impatient look. “Ye told me as much before. Time will change that. Ye will forget this other man.”
She shook her head. “Nay. I love him.”
A dark look crossed Graham’s face. “Have ye lain with him?”
Irritation flowered within her. Of all the things to ask her, Graham chose that?
“Nay, Graham. But he has my heart, and he always will.”
“Ye dunnae ken this for certain. Ye are honorable, Bridgette. Ye will be a true wife, and ye will come to give yer heart to me.”
“I kinnae give ye what I’ve given to another!” she cried out. “I tried to tell ye before, but ye did nae want to hear it then, either. I should never have let ye go on thinking we may have a future, but I did nae comprehend then how completely I had given my heart to another.”
Graham jerked his arm away. “And ye came to understand it while I was gone?” he growled.
“Aye,” she whispered.
“How is that?” he demanded, reaching out and gripping her by the arm. “Is the man here? The man ye gave yer heart to? Is he part of my clan?”
Her mind raced with what to do, what to say.
Graham flung her away with such force that she stumbled backward and fell to her bottom. He stared down at her in horror and scrambled to his knees, almost tipping forward with his jerky motions. “Bridgette.” He touched her knee as she struggled to stand. “I’m sorry. I did nae mean to shove ye so hard.”
She stood but put space between them. “I ken ye would never hurt me purposely,” she said. “Ye have a right to be angry. I’ve hurt ye.”
“I’m nae simply angry,” he said, his gaze narrowing. “I will kill the man who has dared to pursue what all here ken is mine.”
Her breath caught at the menace and hatred in Graham’s voice. “I’m nae a possession, Graham.”
“Tell me the man’s name,” he ordered, ignoring what she’d said.
She could not tell him. She knew it deep within. If he knew that she loved his brother, she was sure the seer’s prophecy would come true.
“Nay,” she said. “I’ve told ye what I felt I must. Ye ken if ye draw first blood and ye marry me, I’ll nae ever love ye with my whole heart, and ye deserve that, Graham. Ye deserve a woman who will give herself to ye, body and soul.”
“I want ye,” he said simply. “Nothing will change that.” With that declaration, he turned and strode away from her.
She watched him disappear as the ache in her heart became almost unbearable. She could not marry one brother while loving another, yet what choice was there?
Panic rioted within Lachlan as Bridgette walked out of the great hall with Graham. He could not lose her. He could not simply do nothing and let her be handed like a prize to another man. He fought against the tide of helplessness to gain control and order his thoughts. The first thing he needed to do was convince David to let him break his pledge with Helena now. The king could see that it was done if he agreed.
The door to the great hall shut, leaving Lachlan, Iain, and the king alone. Lachlan rose to speak, knowing there was not a moment to be wasted. “I’ve discovered that Helena has come here to steal the Fairy Flag.”
“How do ye ken this?” the king asked, his voice hard-edged.
“I caught her searching for it, and I learned she’s asked a great many questions about it.”
“If she’s here to take the flag, then it’s by her father’s command. And the only reason to take the flag is to weaken the MacLeod clan.”
“Aye,” Lachlan and Iain said as one.
“The Campbell kens ye are my allies; therefore, if he’s trying to destroy ye, he is my enemy.”
“Aye, Sire,” both Lachlan and Iain said again. It was best to let David continue rather than interrupt.
The king pounded his fist into the palm of his other hand. “We must learn with whom the Campbells have allied. I suspect it’s Robert, but I dunnae ken who else, possibly the Earl of Dunbar. I dunnae believe either man cares for my governing style. They wish to tell me what to do, and I’ll nae have it. I’ll nae be any man’s puppet king,” David snarled, referring to Robert Balliol.
“Why do ye reward the steward and Dunbar more land and titles that make them stronger if ye believe they are conspiring against ye?” Lachlan asked.
David waved a dismissive hand. “I can take it away as quickly as I give it, but for now, I grant it to appease them. I need their support—or pretense of it, at least—until I have the backing I need to oppose them should they rise against me.”
“How close are ye to having the reinforcements ye desire?” Iain asked.
“Verra,” David answered, showing a cold smile. “I leave here day after tomorrow to see Gowan. Once I’m assured I have the Lord of the Isles’s faithfulness to add to those of ye I trust, I will feel confident I can crush any who oppose my rule. And I will make known that I dunnae need nobles to retain control of my kingdom, no matter how powerful they are. I need men who trust that everything I do, every choice I make, is for the good of Scotland. I must ken all my enemies so I ken who to destroy.” David speared them both with an intense look. “Do either of ye believe we should be considering any other men that may be conspiring with the Campbells?”
“Likely our Uncle Jamie,” Iain said. “He stands to gain a great deal if he can capture Dunvegan and align himself with men who are against ye as my ally.”
“My spies dunnae have any word on yer uncle but what I told ye. It’s as if he has disappeared.”
Iain shook his head. “He’s hiding, I’m certain. Preparing to strike.”
The king turned his attention to Lachlan. “Do ye believe ye can get Helena to admit she is here to steal the flag and that her father sent her? At least then we will ken for certain that the Campbells are enemies. And if she kens who the Campbell is conspiring with, all the better.”
Lachlan nodded. “I hope to have the proof by tomorrow, and if I do, I’d like ye to declare me released from my pledge to Helena immediately.”
David arched his eyebrows. “I ken wishing to be released, but why the urgency?”
Lachlan looked to Iain, and Iain gave a quick nod of his head that the time for total truth was at hand, but to know how to proceed, Lachlan needed to understand something. “Why would ye be willing to allow Colin Campbell to marry Bridgette MacLean, when ye believe the Campbells to be yer enemy?”
“I’m nae.”
Lachlan frowned. “Ye’re nae?”
A sly grin came to the king’s mouth, which twisted quickly into a vicious one. “I am only feigning to allow it, just as I feigned he saved my life.”
“Ye did what?” Lachlan and Iain asked in unison.
The king chuckled a merciless laugh. “The truth is, the man moved too slow and I saved myself. But I wished to judge his honesty.” He shrugged. “So I declared he had saved me to see what he would say. One of the men in the party called out that I should offer him a reward. I expected him to say land or a title. I never expected him to ask for a woman.”
David shook his head. “It was a miscalculation on my part, and one I was scrambling to try to release myself from when yer brother spoke and declared his intent for the MacLean’s sister. It gave me the opportunity I needed to say I would hear both their pleas when we reached Dunvegan. Then the MacLean joined up with us, and when I sought his counsel on how to go about the matter, he told me of his vow to allow his sister to marry a man of her choosing, and I knew I could use that to prevent the marriage without looking as if I really cared to.”
Lachlan’s eyes grew wider, surprised by the king’s deceit, though perchance he should not have been.
The king went on. “But the MacLean and I agreed that Bridgette, nor anyone else, could know so that it would be believable. It was a stroke of luck that yer brother and Colin exchanged harsh words and that Colin proposed the fight to first blood. Now Colin will nae suspect me of nae wishing to grant the woman to him.”
Lachlan’s anger pulsed through him at the king referring to Bridgette as the woman, and that David was so cavalier about it all. “What if my brother loses the battle?” he snarled, unable to contain his rage. “He is injured.”
The king frowned. “Injured or nae, I saw him practice with the men several times on the road. He is the better fighter, and he has honor and rightness on his side. He will nae lose.”
“And if he does?” Lachlan blurted, forgetting himself in his fear and anger. “Ye risk Bridgette’s future!”
“I risk nothing. If yer brother loses,” the king said flatly, “Alex will oppose the marriage. We have already agreed upon the course of action. I will naturally relent after the lady makes known her objections, and I’ll speak of the death vow that was made to allow her the choice. That will be the key, I believe,” he mused.
Lachlan ground his teeth at the realization that David had not even worked it all out in his mind. A knowing glint came to the king’s eyes as his eyes bore into Lachlan. “Why are ye so vexed?”
The time had come for truth. Lachlan took a breath. “I want her,” he said simply. “I want Bridgette MacLean for my own.”
The king blinked in surprise but then chuckled. “I imagine Graham dunnae ken this?”
“Nae yet,” Lachlan said, feeling the heat of shame and guilt. “I intend to tell him after time has passed, and he sees she is nae for him.”
The king waved a hand. “That will be for the two of ye to settle. I’ll nae be involved with that. I’m off to see Katherine now to be properly soothed before supper. Keep me apprised,” David commanded before quitting the room.
Lachlan started to leave, but Iain bade him to wait. Once Iain had shut the doors to the great hall, he turned to Lachlan. “Dunnae tell Graham what we just learned. He has to fight. Better for him to fight thinking he could lose Bridgette. It may save his life.”
“Agreed.”
“Dunnae tell her the particulars, either. I’ll nae bother asking ye to nae say a word of this. I ken I would if it were Marion.”
Lachlan nodded. “I will only tell her that she need nae worry she will be married to Colin. That all will be well.” With that, he left and went in search of Bridgette.