Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

W ith tension tightening his shoulders, Stellan watched Seamus upbraid Mariota. He was tempted to intervene. Across the width of the keep's gate, they were still close enough that he could hear what was said when they raised their voices, but much of their conversation they held to low tones and strained expressions. Stellan's sympathy for Mariota was based on her danger from Alber and her father's inaction. Seamus adding to that mix seemed unfair, but the longer Stellan watched, the more convinced he became that Mariota was holding her own with her friend. Not just holding her own. Something seemed to crystallize within her. Her shoulders went back and she straightened as if she'd come to a decision. For her sake, he hoped it was a good one. The fact that they were out here watching her hawk hunt coneys demonstrated in a small way her determination to carve out her own future. Stellan's respect for her grew even more for that.

No lass should be treated the way her father had treated her. But things seem to be changing between them. If the man was sincere, he'd include her in meetings and judgements, giving her the training an heir should have in how to run a clan and mediate disputes. That would tell Stellan that the MacKay finally listened to his daughter and was taking her seriously. Respecting her determination to set things right, for herself and for the future of the clan, would be a significant step in the right direction on his part. Stellan hoped he lived long enough to see it happen.

He pulled his gaze away from the argument, now more of a discussion, taking place across the gate's wide opening. He was out here to keep watch, but the only thing he had been watching was Mariota. Despite the presence of other guards with them, Seamus had been focused on her, and so had he. That was foolish.

He glanced up and grimaced as his heartbeat suddenly accelerated. Alber leaned casually on a merlon, watching Mariota from the wall walk. Damn it, how long had he been up there? Any time Stellan saw Alber anywhere near her, in the great hall, the bailey, or anywhere in passing, the man watched her like a wolf scenting prey, still and focused, with deadly intent. Despite his deceptively relaxed stance, this was no exception. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw clenched, like a wolf ready to jump on its prey. Alber noticed Stellan staring at him and returned the stare with open hostility, then dragged a finger across his throat in a parody of using a blade.

Stellan took a chance and turned his back. Alber wouldn't dare strike while Seamus and others could see him, no matter how much he wanted to.

It was no secret that he, as Anders, had been chosen to lead the Sutherlands here, not just to keep Mariota safe, but for a possible betrothal. If Alber thought she was about to be wed to a warrior who could defend her better than her father ever had, he might move up his timeline and take advantage of any opportunity to attack her sooner.

Seeing how blatantly Alber displayed his malice, Stellan swore no matter if he never wed the lass, he would not leave her to be assaulted by that man again. Even the serving lasses seemed to give him a wide berth as they passed by his seat at the table. Alber clearly was not to be trusted around lasses, not just Mariota, but what effect was he having on the rest of the clan?

Stellan had already seen factions forming among the MacKays. Some smiled at him, trying to make a good impression on the man who might marry their next laird. Some glared, like Alber, as if he were the enemy, to be vanquished. Did their attitudes reflect open disrespect for their laird? They certainly felt free to glower at an important guest. This clan seemed to be at a dangerous crossroads in leadership.

Stellan was sure there was more going on here than just one angry man threatening a lass. He'd never had such feral glares directed his way, never so many hopeful, pleading glances, either. Something was wrong here. Surely some of that had reached the MacKay's ears. His inaction remained a mystery Stellan wanted solved.

He needed a word with her father and soon. Given their past conversations, how to protect her without insulting the laird would be tricky. Too bad he wasn't Anders. His twin's diplomatic skills were greater than his. But Alber's open hostility toward Mariota made another confrontation with the MacKay inevitable.

Mariota noticed Anders glaring up at the wall walk. She suspected Alber had appeared, but she would not look up and give him the satisfaction of having her attention on him. If he had been doing more than watching, if he'd been threatening her or Valkyrie, Anders would have moved her somewhere safer than standing below the keep's wall. But he seemed content to continue the staring contest he was engaged in, so she moved a few steps farther away and trusted that he or Seamus would let her know if anything changed. She liked the idea of giving Alber her back. It would insult him, infuriate him, and might provoke him to action that her guards could react to, that the other MacKay guards on the wall would see, and that would convince her father to banish him.

Nay, that would mean if she left the keep, which she would do, he would still be free to threaten her— and with vengeance in mind, she knew he wouldn't go far. She didn't like where that thought led, but she'd had it before, and that the reality of the alternative— seeing him dead —might be the only way she'd ever have peace in her own home.

She glanced around at Anders. He had turned his attention from the wall walk back to her. Alber must have gone away from his post. Anders moved into the open gate, watched the bailey for a few minutes, before turning to her.

"Alber?"

"Aye. He went into the keep."

"Good."

Seamus approached. "I saw ye staring at him. He'll take that as provocation, ye ken."

"Good," Anders told him, echoing her word of a moment before, then he grinned at her.

Seamus nodded and left them, making a circuit around them, checking with the other guards.

Mariota expected he would let them know he'd seen Alber go in the keep, but that didn't mean he'd stay there.

She watched her friend for a moment, then grinned back at Anders, approving his feral implication. If Alber challenged him, it would not go well. She also liked that she was starting to see cracks in Anders' reserve. The twins were incredibly alike, but the Anders at home in Dunrobin she recalled was much more lighthearted than he'd been since they left there. Since then, he'd been much more like his twin who'd first brought her to Sutherland. Could it be that because he was in another clan's stronghold, he was subdued by the potential danger? MacKay and Sutherland were not exactly enemies, but not fully allies, either. Unless she married him. She studied his face as his grin faded. The more solemn his expression, the more he reminded her of Stellan. Was that why she'd felt the heat of attraction with him lately? Because he'd been acting more like Stellan than himself?

Valkyrie's call pulled her attention from him to her raptor, approaching now with her prey clutched in her talons. Mariota held up a fist, signaling to her to drop the coney. It landed at her feet, and Mariota opened her hand, allowing Valkyrie to wheel away to continue her hunt.

"She's enjoying this," Anders said, bemused, his gaze shifting from the dead coney to Valkyrie and back again.

"'Tis what she's trained for. She can feed herself, but she also provides meat for the pot, which Cook appreciates."

"What else can she do?" He frowned and shifted his gaze to the side, clearly thinking.

"Besides protect me from Alber?"

"She got away with it once. He'll be ready for her the next time."

"If there is a next time. If I continue to make headway with my father, I expect to convince him to take action so Valkyrie never has to confront Alber. And never has to fear him."

"Nor should ye need to. Seamus is right. Ye have friends here, not just him."

"Why have they no' spoken up to my da?"

"Perhaps they have."

That stopped her for a moment. Perhaps they had. And if they had, what was between Alber and her da that kept him from acting in her best interest? Seamus had offered to speak to the older warriors about the time when Alber joined the clan, to see if any recalled the circumstances. He was headed their way, so she waved him closer.

"Have ye had a chance to talk to anyone about how Alber came to be here?"

He shook his head. "Nay. We've only been back the day. And I have a feeling 'tis best done carefully."

She nodded, as did Anders. "Aye. Something doesn't seem right between them, but Da may no' want whatever it is dug up."

"Would it go easier coming from a Sutherland? As a stranger to the clan? Wondering why Alber seems to get away with so much?"

Seamus shrugged. "It might, at that. If one of yer men could bring it up in a group, yer man might hear naught but speculation, but there might be a kernel of truth in what he learns."

"Very well," Anders agreed thoughtfully. "'Twill be only one of mine, to keep word from getting out that questions are being asked. But he may never get the chance, ye ken."

Mariota nodded. "I hope he does. We may uncover the truth of this yet."

"Ye may still get it from yer da, if ye ask again," Anders said. "'Twould be best coming from him."

He was right. "If Da would answer, and if I could trust that he told me the truth, aye, it would. I will try."

Seamus glanced skyward. "Here comes Valkyrie again."

Mariota smiled at her hawk and raised a fist. Another coney landed at her feet. She waved off her raptor.

"I'll let her get a few more for the pot before we go in. Cook will be pleased. And thank ye both for today. 'Tis good to be outside."

Both men nodded and stepped away from her. She watched Anders move to his position on the other side of the gate. Save for Anders' grin, she really could not tell him apart from Stellan. They looked, sounded, moved, and thought much the same. Only their temperaments differed slightly. Why shouldn't she consider him for her husband instead of his brother? He was not tied to Sutherland as its heir, and he would make a good partner for her at MacKay— strong, thoughtful, cheerful, even wise. They seemed to have developed an attraction for each other that could grow, perhaps even into love. She would not be settling. She would be making a wise decision. Anders would be the best choice for her and for her clan. So why couldn't she be happy about that?

At supper that night, Mariota suddenly stiffened like a hare confronting a wolf. Alber watched her, careless of who saw him giving her a sickening grin. Seamus was on the wall walk, back on night watch. She was not sure who was sitting beside her, Anders or Stellan. And her personal wolf was too near, licking his chops. Nothing seemed right. Little about her situation made sense to her. And having to tolerate Alber's attention, even at a distance, made her regret letting her father force her into returning to MacKay.

She still had no idea what punishment her da exacted on him. He seemed not to have suffered at all. Why wasn't he in the MacKay dungeon? She looked to her da, hoping to bring Alber to his notice, but his attention was elsewhere. And in front of the clan was no place to confront him. "Da," she leaned toward him and said, "I wish to speak with ye in yer solar after the meal."

He studied her for a moment.

Mariota held herself still and kept her expression calm. She didn't want to give him a reason to turn her down.

"Very well," he finally said, agreeing.

Mariota nodded and turned away from him, suddenly wishing she hadn't requested the interview. She could only enrage her father, no matter how she asked the question at the front of her mind. Was Alber punished? And if not, why not? What did he mean to her da?

But she consoled herself that she'd made progress with him by being bold, confident, assertive. These questions were at the heart of her problems at MacKay. Her da owed her an answer.

In his solar, her father became as furious as she expected when she posed the first question.

"Ye should be more interested in yer future husband than Alber," he told her with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow.

"If Alber has his way, I willna need one," she asserted. "I'll be his. Or I'll be dead."

"I am keeping Alber away from ye?—"

"Aye? Who was that, glaring at me at supper? Even when he canna reach me, he can threaten?—"

"Which does ye nay harm. I'll speak to him again."

"Why has he no' been punished before now? Ye ken what he's done. He should be in the dungeon or banished from MacKay for his attacks on yer heir." Anyone else would be dead.

"Ye dinna ken what ye speak of."

Mariota clenched her fists, not caring if he saw her do it. He still wouldn't reveal what hold Alber had over him. "I ken fine, Da. Ye thought ye'd have a son to follow ye, but ye were left with me. If ye dinna support me, if ye canna ensure I am properly trained to manage MacKay, all of it, then the laird who follows ye may well lose all ye have worked for. Is that what ye want? Or are ye thinking of naming another as yer heir? One of yer men?"

His sudden stillness spoke volumes.

"Nay Alber," she pleaded. "He'll ruin MacKay in his first month."

"Nay, I would never consider him."

"Too bad he doesna ken that. He might leave me alone. Then who? And why will ye no' tell me what I've asked of ye?"

"Ye dinna need to ken."

That came as another punch to her gut. He would never do anything about Alber. "If ye mean to leave MacKay to me, ye owe yer clan to prepare me as ye would yer son so that I can lead and my husband can support me— and MacKay. I'm yer daughter, nay a son, but I am one of the best archers ye have, and a hawk mistress who can aid in the hunt. I have tried to learn what a laird must ken, but I havena had much help from ye. So I'm telling ye now. Ye must train me. Or tell me what else ye plan so that I can live my life elsewhere as I see fit."

He stared off into space for a moment. "'Twill be yer husband's problem to protect ye in the future, and to act as laird where ye arena capable. He must be someone who can be the clan's war leader since ye canna."

Her heart cracked in her chest at this confirmation that her father didn't care about her, only about replacing her, or making a strong alliance with someone who could lead in her stead. He expected her husband to become laird in all but name. She fought back tears, and before he threw her out of the solar, she told him, "Factor this into yer planning, my laird. Since ye refuse to act, long before ye are gone and I become some semblance of laird, before he can hurt me again, I will see Alber dead."

"Ye?" Her father's laughter followed her out of the solar.

Aye, me, she thought, too angry for tears. There were many ways she could end Alber's harassment. And if she failed, her future husband could avenge her. But first, she had to spend time with Anders Sutherland, seduce him into wanting her, supporting her, doing what must be done if it turned out her da was right and she could not. Her da might refuse to believe it, but she knew she was in a fight for her life.