Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

J anuary 1706, the King’s Dungeons

Contemplating murder, especially at a wedding, was probably a sin and most definitely a crime, but Alayne Ranald wasn’t sure she cared. As far as she was concerned, she could think of it all she wanted, so long as no one ever caught her indulging in her fantasies. Though for now, she had other, more important things to think about.

The air was damp, cold, and musty, the corridor ill-lit and thick with dust, spider webs and rat droppings, as well as other things she shuddered to think about. On either side of the grim passageway, heavy oak doors reinforced with steel bands stood at regular intervals, each one with a single barred window just above her eye level.

The king’s dungeons were not a comfortable place to be, especially not for lady of her status. The presence of the stoic, completely silent guard didn’t help. Had her reasons for going there been any less dire, Alayne knew she would likely have decided against making the trek.

But again, those thoughts were less important than her reasons for being there. Alayne steeled her nerves and followed the guard with her head held high.

Finally, they came to a stop in front of a door. The guard pulled a key from his belt and shoved it in the lock, grunting as he turned it. Once the door was unlocked, he looked at her with dull, faintly contemptuous eyes. She could tell he was aware of her discomfort, and probably thought her a soft, weak-willed woman. As far as she was concerned, all the better.

After a moment, he grunted again. “Ye’ve got five minutes, then I escort ye back or drag ye. Nay arguments.”

He pulled open the door with one meaty fist, grabbed her arm with the other, and shoved her inside. Alayne stumbled, narrowly recovering her balance as the heavy oak panel thudded back into place and latched behind her. She took a moment to glare at it, then turned to stare at the cell’s single occupant.

Donall Ranald had been a healthy, well-built, handsome man when the king’s guards had stuffed him into his cell over a month ago. Now his hair hung in lank, greasy, matted knots around a face adorned with a wild tangle of beard. His clothing was worn, and so grime-encrusted that no washer woman would ever be able to get it clean again. He’d lost weight as well, his clothing loose and his cheeks hollow as he rose from his single, odorous straw pallet and stepped toward her. “Alayne?”

She stepped toward him and wrapped her arms around his malnourished frame, clinging to him with all her strength. Donall was her brother and her lifeline, the only reason she had in the world for living, and being without him for the past two months had been unbearable.

That was why she’d dared bargain with the king to convince him to release her brother. The price was high, but nothing compared to what she was willing to pay to secure her brother’s freedom and safety.

Donall held her close for several moments, then pulled away and looked down at her. His voice was hoarse, but still carried the familiar tone of worry and command as he spoke. “Why are ye here?”

“Tae tell ye ye’ll soon be free, dear braither.” Alayne smiled up at him. “I’ve struck a bargain with the king. As soon as he kens I’ve upheld my end o’ it, ye’ll be released, and be able tae return home.”

Donall groaned softly. “Alayne, I didnae want ye involved any further in this. ‘Tis me mess and me responsibility, nae yers. I’m the one that chose tae pursue a feud with Clan MacLean tae avenge Faither’s death, and I’m the one who was fool enough tae steal away Daemon MacMillan’s lover tae try and force Darren MacLean tae surrender. I should have kent better, and kent as well that vengeance against him wouldnae be such an easy matter. I was a fool to rush intae the fight, instead o’ taking me time tae plan and avoid any dishonor.”

Alayne shook her head. “Ye had the right o’ it. Faither’s death at the hands o’ Keegan MacLean had tae be avenged. At the very least, their clan should have paid blood wergild. The feud is Darren MacLean’s fault, nae yers.”

Darren MacLean. The very name made her jaw clench and her stomach twist in knots. Laird of the MacLean Clan, he’d been her personal bane ever since he’d claimed the title and her father had tried to arrange a betrothal between them.

It was bad enough that he’d spurned her and refused the alliance, claiming he was too new to his position to consider such a thing. The argument would have held more weight had she not heard that he’d tried to activate an old marriage contract with the Stewart Clan not long after he refused her. From what she knew, he’d have married Isobel Stewart, if his youngest brother hadn’t been in love with her first.

Then, when her father had tried to avenge the insult, that same damned brother had killed him, and Darren had never so much as apologized, let alone acted to honor the blood debt he owed for killing the laird of Clan Ranald. It was enough to make her sick, even without the events that had placed her brother in the king’s dungeon.

“Ye’ve that look in yer eye again. Whatever ye’re thinking, leave it be, sister. I dinnae want tae see ye in a cell next tae mine.” Donall’s arms tightened around her shoulders.

“I willnae be.” She hugged him a little tighter. “Though I cannae say I like the alternative. But still, ye’ll likely be free within the fortnight, a month at the latest.”

“Dinnae see how.” Donall frowned at her.

“I told ye, I made a bargain with the king. A part o’ it is I’m tae nae sing the king’s anthem, but the rest o’ it is that I’m tae marry Darren MacLean within the fortnight, and when the king receives proof o’ our marriage, he’ll set ye free.”

“And ye’ll be shackled tae the devil.” Donall winced. “I wish ye hadnae made such a bargain.”

“I’d have made one twice as poor, fer the chance o’ seeing ye free.” Alayne spoke the words with determination. “Ye’re me braither, after all, and the only kin I have.”

“I still dinnae like that ye’re sentencing yerself tae another sort o’ prison, simply tae get me out o’ this one.” Donall looked at her expression and sighed. “But I ken ye and can see there’ll be nay talking ye out o’ this path, and since ye’re so set on it, I’ll give ye me gratitude and me blessings. Along with me hope that ye manage tae find a way tae ensure yer ‘husband’ never touches ye.”

“Dinnae fret on that score, dear braither. I’ve some ideas in mind. Nae the least o’ which is that this marriage forces Laird MacLean tae acknowledge an alliance between our clans, and he has tae abide by the courtesies o’ kin-by-marriage toward everyone in Clan Ranald. Including ye.” Alayne promised him. Donall smiled at her.

The groaning sound of the door opening alerted both of them that her time was up. Alayne gave her brother one last, fierce hug, then stepped out into the hall before she could be dragged out by the stone-faced guard. She waited while the door was locked, then followed the man. She made sure to keep her head down and her expression neutral, the image of a properly demure young lady. Behind that facade, her mind was full of plans.

Darren MacLean would have her as a bride, and the hostilities between their clans would be ended, but that didn’t mean he himself would have any peace. Alayne was determined that he should pay dearly for the harm he’d done their clan.

For he was the devil incarnate, so far as she was concerned, and Alayne was determined to see that he experienced his own version of hell. And that he never bore a legitimate heir for his line. That such actions would assure no second son ever claimed Ranald – and that the clan would return to the Ranald line and her brother’s eventual children that much sooner – was simply an additional benefit. That was a small vengeance, since he had a younger brother who could inherit, but she would take it all the same.

And if her actions convinced Darren MacLean to send her back to her family, or to otherwise exile her from his presence – well, the king had only decreed that the marriage would take place. He hadn’t said how long it had to last, nor that husband and wife were required to live in the same household.

Alayne intended to see to it that Darren was eager to send her somewhere else – and she knew exactly what her opening moves would be.