Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

M ariota couldn't believe how the fates had conspired to befuddle and confuse her, but how well they'd resolved her dilemma—or most of it—in the end. She'd been torn, fearing she felt for Anders what she'd felt for Stellan, but it was Stellan all along who weakened her knees, whose kiss drove her to madness, whose touch made her desperate for more. Not his twin. Stellan , the man she'd been attracted to since he put a hand on her boot and gazed up at her when she rode, half-asleep, into his camp. Stellan, who'd helped her down from her horse, his broad hands spanning her waist and heating her blood while at the same time, melting her heart with the care he showed both her and Valkyrie. Stellan, who risked the ire of both their fathers to be with her, to protect her from Alber, by impersonating his twin. She shook her head. She should have recalled sooner the stories she heard at Sutherland about how when the twins were younger, they often switched places and identities with each other.

But now she had a decision to make. She didn't have to waste more time wishing for a different life. She could grab it with both hands, or she would have to remain here and wait for the real Anders to arrive to be betrothed to her. She pounded her fist into her other palm. The wrong twin.

Or she could spend the time grooming her father for the decision she'd been torn about making, but which now seemed simple and necessary. She knew she would be out of her depth as laird. The time she'd filled in for him while he recovered from his injury showed her that. Once her father was gone, it would be even worse. He hadn't been much help to her, but he was here and she could pry answers from him, at least some of the time. Later, when she truly became laird? Nay. She would try to do her best, but the clan would be safer with another person as laird, especially if the trouble between Domnhall and the Earl of Mar continued and spread north. She'd known before she overheard her father talking to his councilor, James, that if the council wanted him to name a tanist , support for her as a wartime laird was weak.

But who would she recommend to replace her? If she was in a position to do so, who would she name to carry the burden of MacKay? The only person she trusted completely was Seamus. Though MacKay blood ran in his veins, he was not a close cousin to her father or her. But he was a well-respected warrior, chief of the night guards, and well liked. Her gut told her abdicating in his favor would be a good decision. Perhaps the best she would ever make as laird.

Knowing she'd been falling for Stellan all along made the idea of relinquishing her heritage in Seamus' favor more attractive to her. She could marry the man she wanted, the man who made her blood sing, and help him at Sutherland when he became laird there.

Perhaps she was being selfish. Anders was fully capable of helping her if she married him and remained here, but their situation was not the same. What she felt for him did not approach the way she needed Stellan, and it never would. Anders felt to her like her brother, not a man she would lie with and bear his children. Nothing more than the love they shared for Stellan would ever exist between them.

Stellan knew he had to leave. He couldn't delay much longer or MacKay would have them before the priest, still thinking he was Anders. Or Alber would expose him. Even if that complication didn't exist, Sutherland had called him home. If Stellan didn't return with due haste, his father would send men here to rival the army that MacKay had taken to Sutherland's walls to retrieve Mariota.

But he couldn't leave without her. He wanted to take her with him. Needed to take her with him. Would she agree? He had no doubt she wanted to. But would her sense of duty demand that she remain to support her father and someday replace him?

He found Mariota working in the clan's summer garden, pulling weeds and from the look of it, working off some anger or frustration. One of his men stood nearby, staying out of her way but on guard. Stellan waved him off, then said, "Mariota, is Cook going to be unhappy with ye?"

Mariota looked up from the rich soil between her fingers, then back down at the pile of limp greens laid out in the dirt, already drying out in the sun. "Aye, I think she might. I wasna paying attention to what I was doing."

"What if we put them back where ye found them?"

"We can try, I suppose." She looked dubious, but shrugged and picked up a green shoot, made a hole in the loose soil and patted it in.

Stellan knelt by her and did the same. Before long, they had repaired the damage Mariota had done, assuming the insulted plants managed to survive. From the looks of some of them, he wasn't optimistic.

"I think ye may still be on yer cook's bad side," he said with a smile, "but I can save ye. Come home with me."

The hope on Mariota's face tugged at Stellan's heart, so badly did he want to give it to her.

"I would like nothing better," she told him. "But how?"

"We could appeal to Seamus for help. Failing that, we'll find a postern gate or climb the keep's walls and get ye out. Valkyrie, too— let her fly and that problem will be solved."

"That risks clan war, and Sutherland throwing us into his dungeon, or worse, my da tossing us into his," Mariota argued.

"We can do it. We must. I canna leave ye unprotected. Even more, I canna leave ye behind." He would have cupped her cheek but he would leave dirt there. He didn't care. He reached for her, but she shook her head and brushed dirt from her hands as she stood.

"It willna work, and I fear my da would have ye killed for trying to steal me. 'Twas bad enough when I left on my own. I dinna want to put ye in that position."

"MacKay willna kill the Sutherland heir."

"He doesna ken he holds the Sutherland heir. He thinks ye are the spare, and Anders is worth less to him, save as a way to bargain with yer da, or to force me to comply with his wishes."

While Stellan digested that, Mariota put a hand on his arm. "I dinna wish to sneak away from my da. That will only cause more trouble. I'm going to tell him he needs to name another heir, and that I've decided to leave MacKay with ye."

Stellan felt a smile bloom on his lips that grew from the depths of his soul. "I would like nothing better, but will he allow it?"

"I willna give him a choice."

"He's the laird. Yer father."

"And he kens he has failed to prepare me to take over from him. He must accept my decision and name someone more qualified."

"Lass, I respect yer decision and yer determination to see it through, but yer da may be more of a problem than ye ken. I willna let ye face him alone. I will come with ye."

"Nay, Stellan. This is a conversation best had in private with him."

Mariota's pulse beat fast in her ears, whether from the decision she'd made, from the support Stellan proudly gave her, or from anticipation of the confrontation she would soon have with her father. But when she reached the solar, the door was closed— nay, it had not shut completely, and she could hear the discussion going on inside.

"Word has come that Mar is on the move," her father was saying, though she didn't yet know to whom. "If Mar succeeds in claiming Ross, he will drive Domnhall back to the Isles to stay. Domnhall's aspirations of territorial expansion will be checked."

"But if it comes to fighting," another man said, "MacKay will be in a weak position with its laird recovering and his heir a lass."

"We have many strong and skilled warriors. Survivors of Harlaw most recently, and other battles," her father said.

"If the worst happens, laird," another man said, "MacKay will not be safe with yer daughter as laird unless she marries soon. Our coastline is potentially too tempting for Domnhall to use to outflank Mar. They'll force Sutherland, who stayed out of Harlaw, to pick a side."

The conversation ceased for a long moment that Mariota supposed was due to her father considering his councilors' words.

"I fear ye are right," he said after the long pause, "but MacKay is done with Sutherland unless Anders accepts my daughter and marries her the day after tomorrow. If no', there are other clans, other potential alliances to be made with her marriage. I am out of patience with Sutherland's presence and interference in MacKay affairs. I have banished Alber, so they no longer have a reason to remain. If one of theirs wishes to affect MacKay, let him do so as the laird's husband and the clan's war leader. If no', in two days, I will send missives to other clans proposing alliances. My daughter will do her duty to MacKay."

Mariota wanted to charge into the solar and deny her father his plans, but common sense held her back. Confronting her father in front of his councilors would gain her nothing and only cause him to dig in his heels. This was worse than she could have imagined. She expected him to argue with her about replacing her, but that he would be relieved to no longer have the burden of a weak heir weighing on him. Instead, now, he seemed even more determined to make her laird, so long as the plan James had proposed that she wed someone strong could be enacted. Well, she didn't want that, not if it meant losing Stellan. She would speak to him after the men left, and after she had a chance to calm the fury that filled her. And her surprise at his revelation. Alber was gone? A tide of relief rolled through her, but didn't last long. He was still out there, somewhere.

And how dare her father continue to plot without her. And to plot against her, now that he was thinking of wedding her to someone else. She didn't care who else. Stellan was the only man she wanted. The only man she would have. Her father could make his alliance some other way, because she was leaving.

Despite her sensible decision not to charge into the solar in a rage, the urge to confront him still burned within her. Should she interrupt the council and suggest Seamus to them then and there, or come back another time and speak privately with her father?

Suddenly the tone shifted in the room. She heard chairs scraping and men getting to their feet. James' voice rang out. "Laird? What is it? Laird! Someone get the healer!"