Chapter Five
Three strangers trapped Keely between them and forced her outside. One of the men stopped her, and started to bind her hands with a length of rope he yanked from around his waist.
“Nay!” Keely twisted her hands free. “Let me go!”
But the other two men quickly gripped her upper arms, forcing her hands in front of her again.
The women in the courtyard stopped sorting the fruit and vegetables or washing their clothes, and even the men abandoned their horses and joined her captors, rallying around them, happy to condemn Keely to Hades. With her hands tied together, she couldn’t defend herself against someone who threw a piece of fruit at her. She was hurried to a far corner where a platform stood. She recognized the place from when she used to live here. Whenever the laird wished to publicly punish an offender, he was taken to the stage, tied to the post, and either whipped or executed.
“Climb the stairs,” one of the men holding her commanded, “Or I’ll drag ye up.”
Eyeing the stage, she struggled to get away, but was quickly shoved forward. She stumbled and fell to her knees.
“Try to escape again and I’ll take what dignity ye have left.”
“Do ye know who I am?” she asked the dark-haired man who dared to mishandle her.
“Aye.” He spat on the ground. “Lady Keely Oliphant, the daughter of the laird himself. But yer title makes no difference to us. Ye are the reason Laird John refused to marry, again, or even sire a bastard. And ye’re now the reason Alex MacKay refuses to accept his responsibility as the new laird.”
Lifted to her feet, Keely had no choice but to amble up the wooden stairs. As she turned around to face the growing throng, a rock hit her in the arm, another on the chest. She swallowed the pain down, raising her chin defiantly. She’d not give them the satisfaction of knowing how she really felt—that deep inside she’d known this moment was coming.
Clan MacKay might not be the wealthiest, but their pride and fierce loyalty was known throughout the Highlands, making them a well sought-after ally. That Alex’s people would wish her dead after all these years came as no surprise. Another rock barely missed her face. Her heart skittered. Where were Alex and the captains of the guard? Surely this violence wasn’t sanctioned by the council or anyone else in power. She searched the back of the crowd, hoping to find someone to help her.
“On yer knees, harlot.” The dark-haired man forced her down. “Our laird is dead. Justice is left to us…”
“Whip her good, Angus,” several people howled in unison.
“This woman promised herself to one brother, and then married the other,” Angus continued, only to be drowned out by more angry calls.
“Whore!” a woman spat.
“Sutherland spy!” a group of men called.
“Kill her. Blood for blood!”
Keely bowed her head, fear slowly overwhelming her sense of control. Why had she been so foolish and left the safety of Dunrobin Castle? At least the Earl of Sutherland, his sons, and Helen, the earl’s only daughter, treated her as family. She’d lacked for nothing … except freedom. That thought forced her to look up again, into the faces of the people so quick to punish her.
“Confess yer sins, woman, and I might be convinced to show mercy.”
“What sins?” Keely asked. “Those of a confused, young lass?”
Angus raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face. The sting brought tears to Keely’s eyes. “What say ye now?”
“Violence will change nothing,” Keely stated resolutely. Only Father Michael and God had the right to judge her—maybe Alex—for it was his heart she’d broken. But not…
A knife sailed past Keely’s cheek. Thrown from the side of the platform, the weapon landed deep in Angus’s chest. Keely screamed as her captor faltered, blood seeping from the wound.
“The next man or woman to raise a hand against Keely Oliphant will feel the bite of my blade, too.”
It was Alex, in all his rage and glory. He climbed onto the stage, taller and stronger than the other two men who had taken her outside.
“This is the way ye treat the daughter of an old friend—a noblewoman?”
Fear reached the men’s eyes as they dropped to their knees, groveling before Alex—the way they’d expected her to do when threatened with death.
“Forgive us, laird, we were only doing what we thought best for ye and the clan.”
Alex made a scoffing sound, sickened by their excuse. “Jamie. Marcus. Take these men below. Maybe a few nights in a bloody cell will open their eyes.”
“Aye, Alex.” Jamie joined him on the platform, followed by several other guards.
Then Alex turned to the stunned crowd. “I count at least fifty of ye. Fifty heads to decorate the spikes I’ll plant along the southern wall of this keep to warn any would-be rebels of the price they’d pay for hurting a hair upon Lady Keely’s head.”
The throng instantly dispersed, leaving only a handful of guards below, and Alex and Keely on the stage. Unsure what to do, Keely gazed up at him. His shoulder-length, blond hair whipped in the wind. “Thank ye.”
“Doona be too quick to thank me, Lady Keely.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her down the stairs. “Seems I canna let ye go. Though our intimate bond is forever severed, I canna risk yer life. Until I can arrange for ye to be safely delivered to yer father’s house, ye will remain here.”
When he kept walking with her in his arms, Keely wiggled uncomfortably. “Put me down.”
He ignored her demand and kept moving.
“Alexander MacKay!”
He didn’t even look at her.
“Laird MacKay, please set me on my feet, I am capable of walking. And if ye would be so kind as to cut my hands free…”
His lips twitched as he finally met her gaze. “Ye’re in no position to make demands, lass.”
She couldn’t believe it. Why would he prefer carrying her over letting her walk? And why wouldn’t he untie her hands?
“If yer wondering why I choose to carry ye inside, tis a show of protection for all to witness. As for the hands, lass, I’ll free ye when I’m convinced ye’ll stay where I tell ye to.”
*
Alex didn’t miss the disapproving looks of his clan as he hurried through the great hall. Apparently, they hadn’t forgiven Keely for what she’d done to him or John. Such shame and humiliation never faded. He knew it all too well, and now that she was in his custody, Alex’s imagination was getting the best of him by formulating a hundred different ways he could make her suffer for wounding him so deeply.
Shuffling up the stairs with her snugly in his arms, he arrived at the bedchamber he’d chosen for her. He set her down, and Keely stared at him, a peculiar look on her face.
“Are ye unwell, lass?” He’d not considered her feelings before, how hopeless she must have felt with Angus.
She shook her head. “Why this bedchamber?”
He opened the door, and she followed him inside. “Tis the most comfortable in the keep, my…”
“Yer mother’s room. I remember. How long did I occupy this chamber?” She wandered to the hearth, running her fingers over the tapestry hanging above it. “The last thing yer mother ever made. Tis beautiful, Alex.” She turned around and offered a sad smile. “It captures the lushness of Clan MacKay lands—the heather-strewn fields, the north wall of the keep, even the loch.”
“Aye,” Alex agreed, leaning against the closed door, his arms folded over his chest. “My ma loved this place.”
“I’m sorry, Alex. I dinna mean to dredge up old memories.”
He slowly smiled at her, chuckling sarcastically. “Nay? Yer return makes me doubt that very much.” She was a walking, talking bad memory, the kind that would crush a weaker man’s spirit. But Alex wasn’t defenseless anymore—that’s what he kept telling himself.
She fell silent and turned back to the hearth. “I doona blame ye for being suspicious. My heart is truly broken over everything that’s happened—especially John’s death.”
“Is it?” Why would she care whether his brother lived or died? Whether his clan thrived or failed? She fled Clan MacKay in the middle of the night, taking his heart and John’s with her.
“What do ye mean?”
“Are ye a spy for the Sutherlands?”
She squinted at him, her full lips forming a hard line. “The Earl of Sutherland is an intelligent man, Alex. Why would he send me to do his bidding when he has hundreds of men at his disposal?”
“I told ye I’d ask the questions, lass.”
“I remember.”
“It would serve ye best to listen.”
“Or what?” She stepped away from the hearth, eyeing him with cool interest.
“Are ye a spy?”
“Jesus have mercy…” She rolled her eyes. “I know I took ye by surprise. Imagine how I felt coming back here to speak with John and finding ye instead. Had I known ye were here, I would’ve stayed away.”
“The feelings are mutual, lass, believe me.”
“I am no spy, Alex. Just a woman who wishes to reunite with her family.”
Was she daft? If she wanted to go home, why’d she ride so far northwest? Her sire’s lands were in the opposite direction. “Did ye forget where yer da lives? Twould have been a much shorter journey to yer home.”
She huffed out a frustrated breath. “I am not stupid, Alex MacKay. And I have a keen sense of direction. My intention was to gain John’s forgiveness first, and maybe even an annulment before I faced my father.”
“Annulment?” So she could reclaim her life and find happiness with another man? He strode across the room, angry that she’d even suggest it. “John wouldna have agreed to such an arrangement. The MacKay’s are a proud clan, Keely.”
“Annulments are common enough.”
“Not to the MacKay’s.”
“I doona understand?”
Alex stared at the woman like he’d never met her before. “An annulment suggests failure, Keely.”
“My failure, not John’s.”
“Spoken like a woman who doesna understand what a man is made of—what drives him.”
Keely blinked at him. “Aye, I understand. Ye call it pride and honor, but I consider it pigheadedness.”
Alex pumped his hands closed several times, hoping to alleviate some of the building pressure in his chest. The she-devil had openly insulted him. “Pigheadedness?” he repeated as he stepped even closer to her. “Ye destroyed John’s life.”
“Aye, I played a part in his misfortune, but so did ye.”
Almost forehead to forehead, he gazed down at her, not missing the spark of anger in her fathomless eyes or the soft fragrance in her hair. Keely Oliphant might represent everything he wanted to forget, but she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Which only made his rage run that much hotter, for she once belonged to him. “Be careful where ye point yer finger, lass. I played no part in yer deception. If anything, I am the unluckiest of all. Ye promised yerself to me, then went behind my back and accepted my brother’s offer for marriage.”
“We were young,” she said.
“Ye were wanton, Keely. Ready to surrender that maidenhead to me.” He reached for her hands and she flinched. Why? In his experience, women who winced like that were victims of abuse. Has someone hurt her? Regardless, he pulled the twine off, freeing her. “Ye were mine.”
She retreated a step, rubbing her wrists. “I belong to no man.”
“Every female on God’s green earth belongs to a man, lass. Whether her sire or husband, brother or uncle, doesna matter.”
Very slowly she raised her head and met his gaze. “What do ye want from me, Alex?”
Alex curled his fingers under her stubborn chin, turning her face side to side. “I doona know yet, lass. But until I do, ye’re to stay here.” Satisfied he’d made his wish clear, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.
“Alex?” she called.
He dinna stop until he was in the hallway with the door shut. Curse God for bringing her back into his life. In the short amount of time he’d been back in the Highlands, everything that had happened gave him every reason to want to leave. He only needed to ride for the beach where his ship waited to take him home. Twenty of his best warriors were with him, men who had pledged their allegiance to him in Constantinople. Men he trusted more than anyone.
He closed his eyes and imagined he was back in the desert, riding one of his stallions through the endless sand dunes, nothing on his mind but speed and freedom. That world seemed more like a fantasy now. “Damn this place.” He stormed off, ready to drink himself into oblivion.