Chapter Four

"I s this really necessary?" Nala asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. Standing atop a stool as the seamstress poked and prodded her, adding last-minute stitches to a dress that was much too frivolous for the Highlands. In England, women wore gowns—like the deep blue creation she now donned—for every reason under the sun.

Nala thought it ridiculous that women often changed three times a day depending on what time it was. Nala had refused to change unless attending an event that required it. She wore the same dress she put on in the morning all day.

Her mother pursed her lips as she walked around Nala taking in every fold and the flow of the satiny skirt. "It is imperative that ye be the best dressed at the gathering. It is in yer honor after all."

Nala's lips curved. Not at what her mother said, but because of the rich island accent that always soothed her frayed nerves.

"Mother, I beg of ye. Dinnae speak of marriage to anyone. And dinnae state that ye wish me to be already married," Nala implored. "I dinnae wish every fool from far and wide coming forward to profess their feelings simply because of Father's wealth."

"Of course I wish ye to be already married. Most women yer age already have two or three bairns." Kamila's eyes rounded in an attempt to look perplexed about Nala's request. "Ye should be grateful that I care."

The seamstress cut a thread and moved away. "Ye look beautiful, miss."

Nala frowned at the puffy tops of the sleeves. "I feel like an overly plump chicken."

"Ye look like a beautiful swan," her mother insisted with a satisfied purse of her lips. "I cannae wait for everyone's reactions."

"Dinnae be offended if the reaction is laughter," Nala said and tugged at the neckline in a futile attempt to cover the tops of her breasts. "If I bend my breasts will spill out."

"Stop protesting," her mother said walking toward the door. "I will have something sent up for ye to eat. Remain here."

When the door closed behind her mother and the seamstress, Nala went to the window and leaned out to look across the fields to the road. Already guests were arriving. She noted a group of men on horseback, several wagons, as well as a pair of coaches. Suddenly she was transported back to England, to the constant teas, galas, and other gatherings. They were not unhappy memories, in actuality, she'd enjoyed some of them. Still, her favorite moments were the quiet times with her cousins reading in the parlor.

However, their life consisted of so many social events that they rarely had a day of relaxation. It wasn't that she disliked the social events, what she could not stand for was the pageantry, the gossip, and the constant competing of women for men's attention. In high society, a man—especially a titled one—was the best prize a woman could ever have. Just the thought of it made her shake her head.

Now her mother planned something that was reminiscent of the social affairs she'd stayed away from. Those dedicated to finding a husband for the forlorn young women who'd not managed to find one on her own.

She let out a breath, wondering what her mother would be saying, the hints dropped to let mothers of eligible men know Nala was very much interested in marriage.

Nala scowled in thought. Who exactly of the men invited would garner her father's approval?

A carriage pulled by a team of beautiful sable horses appeared and she followed its progress. Next to the carriage rode two men, their huge warhorses unmistakable.

One was Knox Ross, the other Alexander. The laird stood out, with his impressive height, wide shoulders, and shoulder-length black hair. His cousin, Knox, was an attractive man. She'd not gotten to know him as well since he'd moved to Skye just before she'd left. The pair of times she'd seen him since returning, had been at Sencha's house. Knox and her brother had been close and often visited her father.

Although Knox had a slender build compared to Alexander, his shoulders and arms were muscular from archery. He had olive skin and light brown hair. His keen eyes were the palest green and were startling against his dark skin tone, giving him an exotic appearance.

Memories of the many years she'd spent with the Ross lads before leaving flooded making her smile at seeing them approaching. Despite not seeing him in so long and the few recent interchanges, which had been Alexander mostly being protective, she remained fond of him.

A shiver went up her spine when she recalled how close they'd been when he'd attempted to admonish her for riding out alone. His emerald green eyes had darkened at one point, and she'd caught herself considering what it would be like to kiss him.

The thought had shaken her so badly, she'd had to get away from him as quickly as possible. What nonsense had caused that thought to form?

Surely it was the anger that had caused the romantic notions. There was no other explanation.

When Alexander and the carriage approached the house, he looked up as if sensing her watching him. Before he looked to her window, she moved away.

Something about him affected her so she decided it was best to keep from being alone with him. Thankfully there were several families attending the gathering, which meant it would be easy to avoid Alexander.

To Nala's surprise, she was enjoying the gathering. She and Sencha sought out Ainslie Ross, Cynden's wife, and the trio huddled to talk about the other attendees. It was quite fun to find out who was involved with whom. Ainslie, who lived at Ross keep, was privy to what occurred within the gates and shared bits that had both Nala and Sencha hanging on her every word.

With a sheepish grin, Ainslie admitted to sitting near a hearth in the great room, pretending to embroider, just to listen to the grievances brought to Alexander.

"It is better than storyteller's tale," Ainslie admitted sliding a look to where Cynden was. "I cannae believe the things some people come to him about."

Sencha, who adored rumors, sat forward in her chair, face flushed with excitement. "Does anyone come to speak to him about his men?"

Only Nala knew that Sencha's object of affection was Knox Ross. Admittedly the archer was very handsome; however, his roguish ways were legendary. Because of this, Sencha had decided she'd never act upon her feelings.

In Nala's opinion, Sencha deserved a man who took the time to get to know a woman and didn't spend his free time plundering whoever happened past.

Not that she knew for a fact that was how Knox passed his time, but whether he pursued women or was chased by them, the man needed to exercise more prudence.

"Who catches yer eye, Nala?" Ainslie asked with a twinkle in her eyes. "Hendry perhaps?" she asked eluding to a muscular warrior. "Or maybe a bigger prize… say… Alex?"

Nala's gaze flew across the room to where Alexander spoke with several men. As if sensing her perusal, his eyes met hers for a beat. She quickly looked back to her companions, who watched her with rapt attention. "I am nae interested in courtship. I need time to adjust to life on Skye."

"Interesting," Ainslie remarked. "Ye have certainly caught the laird's attention."

That her cheeks became hot was annoying. Nala waved the words away. "If he looks to me, it is because he is cross with me."

"What happened?" Sencha asked, her eyes moving between her and Alexander.

"Nothing of note," Nala replied. "He suggested that I be escorted when visiting ye, I informed the laird that I didnae require such nonsense as the road between our homes is safe enough. I am nae sure he agreed."

Sencha gasped and Ainslie continued to watch her with a knowing smile. The woman was not much older than her, perhaps even the same as her two and twenty. Yet Ainslie seemed to believe she was more knowledgeable in heart matters.

"We should go out to the garden," Nala suggested. "It is nae too cold."

When they stood, Nala slid a glance toward where Alexander was. To her consternation, her father was speaking with him. Before she could look away, she noted her father gesture toward his study then he and Alexander headed in that direction.

What did Alexander have to speak to her father about in private? Hopefully it wasn't about her unescorted outings. Or worse, that Alexander suspected she was the avenging archer.

Alexander found it hard to keep from stealing glances at Nala. Gone was the wildling on horseback who wore her hair in a braid down her back and clothing that resembled more what a man would wear.

The woman who seemed to glide across the room was a siren. Her dark tresses were swept up, displaying her graceful neck. Jewels hung from her ears and although she kept the challenging look in her expression, her beautiful features were accentuated by the low neckline.

When she walked, the folds of her gown swayed side-to-side, calling attention to the curves of her body. He'd done his best to keep from openly gawking, but in that dress it proved impossible. The swells of her breasts were perfectly displayed, from the delicate mounds, the eye was drawn to her cinched waist.

Whoever had chosen the gown had done extremely well, if the intent was to catch men's attention.

At the moment, Nala walked away toward the doors leading to the side garden and he almost rushed over to insist she donned a shawl, or preferably a cape. A thick long furry one that covered everything would be best.

When Knox elbowed him, Alexander realized he'd been watching Nala much too long, and he immediately scanned the room until finding another woman. Unfortunately, the woman was about eighty years old and currently coughing so violently that he wondered if she'd drop dead.

Nala's mother and his own rushed to the old woman attempting to help her catch her breath. Finally the woman seemed to settle, and conversations resumed.

"Alexander, a word." Calum Maclaren stood before him, the older man looking up at him. Although Calum was not a short man, he had to look up to Alexander as he was taller than most men.

"Of course," Alexander said nodding to Knox, who greeted the older man.

He followed Nala's father to a study and sat when the man motioned to a chair. Calum poured two glasses of whiskey, handing one to Alexander.

After settling in another chair, Calum drank and waited for Alexander to do the same.

"Is something amiss?" Alexander asked. From the man's relaxed expression, it was difficult to surmise what the man wished to speak about.

"I hear good things about ye. I am sure yer father would be proud of how ye are handling the lairdship." Calum smiled softly. "He never worried, ye see. Always said he was sure about yer abilities to take over the clan."

Alexander knew his father and Calum had been close friends. Every time he met with Calum it was inevitable for him to think of his father. There were many times he'd catch the two men with a dram of whiskey in deep conversations that sometimes lasted hours. Many a time, they would just sit in companionable silence, enjoying each other's company.

"I do miss him," Alexander said and took another sip of whiskey.

Calum looked at the amber liquid in his own glass for a bit. "There are times when I wish to share things with him and have to remind myself he is gone."

Alexander spoke wishing to change the subject. "I am grateful to ye for yer words of encouragement. As of late, I have felt as if I am failing my people. The attacks have continued without us able to find out who the culprits are."

"A difficult task to have so much responsibility on yer shoulders. Which brings me to one of the reasons I wished to speak with ye."

His attention grabbed; Alexander met the man's gaze. "I am listening."

Calum took his time speaking. First he swirled the amber liquid in the glass studying it, then lifted his gaze to Alexander. "When yer father was alive, he often said that lairdship is not the work of just one man. A good laird surrounds himself with wise council. Ye have been trying to do it alone. Ye must see that although ye are a very judicious young man, ye lack experience in some matters."

The truth of the words almost made Alexander flinch. Truthfully, he'd forgotten about the council. There had been so much happening. Between his brothers' marrying, warring first with the Mackinnons, then the MacLeods, and now the attackers, he'd only been able to concentrate on one day at a time.

"I had not considered it," he admitted, lowering his head. "In truth I am exhausted." Alexander kept his gaze down, not wishing for Calum to see that tears threatened. It had been so long since he'd been given advice from someone like the man before him. Someone who was a fatherly figure. It made him yearn for his father's wisdom.

He blinked, hoping the moistness would dissipate. "Will ye help me?"

Calum chuckled. "I didnae consider I was giving myself the position as part of the council. But if ye wish it then aye, I can do so."

"Who else do ye suggest?" Alexander lifted the glass to his lips and drained it. Calum refilled it and poured more for himself.

The man looked into the fire. "I suggest Liam Murray, and perhaps the constable Donald Brown. He is a good man."

They continued speaking for a bit longer about who would be good members of a six-man council. As they discussed, Alexander could feel the weight on his shoulders lesson. Perhaps it was the third glass of whiskey or the fact he would have help in leading the people, but he began to relax.

"We should rejoin the festivities," Calum said. "Kamila will be looking for us."

Before Alexander could stand, Calum held out a hand. "I hesitate to bring this up, but there has been something that I do wish to discuss. Perhaps not tonight, but I would like to come to the keep and speak to ye about it."

The tone of the man's voice piqued Alexander's curiosity. "Of course, ye are welcome at any time." He couldn't keep from asking. "What do ye wish to speak to me about?"

The man stood and Alexander followed suit.

When Calum's lips curved, he felt his own shoulders lower with relief that whatever the man wished to talk to him about was not dire. So used to bad news, it was what he'd come to expect.

Calum looked down the corridor as if to ensure no one would overhear. He spoke in a low tone. "I wish to confer with ye about my daughter. She requires a husband."

"Err… Aye… of course." Alexander wasn't sure what the man meant. Did he expect Alexander to marry Nala? Or to help find the lass a husband? Neither option sat well with him at the moment. He was not meant to be a matchmaker for the clan's people. It was a task his mother was better suited for.

Not waiting for a reply, the older man walked to where his guests mingled and was called to join a conversation with two men. Alexander took the pair in, one was a farmer, the other a merchant, neither was married. He scanned the room, noting which other unmarried men were there.

Was this a gathering so that Nala could choose a husband? He searched the room and noted that Nala had returned from outside. She stood beside her mother, a frown marring her face. She craned her neck and looked about, the crease between her brows in place. When their gazes met, her gaze swept over him, as if assessing his attire. Then she looked away, a slight lift to the corners of her lips.

Alexander walked to where Nala stood. "May I have a word?"

Her mother smiled broadly. "Go, lass. See what his lairdship wishes."

Nala bit her bottom lip, then gave a curt nod. "Of course." Her voice was sugary sweet, making Alexander wonder what she was up to.

They walked away from the group. He wasn't sure exactly how to approach the subject of Nala getting married, so he decided directness was the best approach.

"Ye are of age to marry. Have ye given thought to whom ye wish to…" Before he could continue, Nala interrupted, speaking in a low hiss.

"Why would I speak to ye about this? Did my father say something to ye?" Her eyes bore into him. A flush pinkened her cheeks, something he'd noticed during their previous interactions.

He decided on a different approach. "I ask because yer father may have mentioned something about it."

Rising to her toes to better meet his gaze, she glared. "I am nae interested in marriage to anyone. If Father brings it up again, assure him no man would wish to be married to someone like me."

"Like ye?"

"Spirited," she quipped. At the pronouncement, she seemed to realize how close their faces were. Her widened eyes lowered, hesitating on his lips before she turned her head. "Is there anything else ye wish to speak to me about Laird ?" Nala practically spit out the last word.

"Nothing, for now." Alexander took her elbow. "I will escort ye back."

It was not the first time he'd touched her, yet, this time, something about the gesture seemed intimate, almost proprietary.

Admittedly the lass had grown to be a beauty beyond compare. However, as he had no desire to marry anytime soon, he refused to consider any thoughts beyond the fact that he enjoyed her independent disposition and the way she spoke her mind. And the fact she had an alluring body did not go unnoticed.

Alexander cleared his throat as they approached her mother.

It was slight, but he felt Nala attempt to pull her elbow free. He didn't release it, interested to see what she did next.

With a pleasant expression, she smiled at their mothers and the other women they stood with. "It is almost sunset, we should go see it."

As one the women turned to look toward the doorway, it was then Nala stomped on his foot, her heel thrusting with force onto the top of his boot.

Alexander let out a loud groan causing the women to turn back and give him questioning looks.

"What happened?" Kamila asked, reaching out to him. "Are ye unwell?"

All he could do was clamp his teeth together to keep from spewing an obscenity. "Dinnae be alarmed. I recalled something important that I forgot to do. It is all."

"Ye should take care of the important thing immediately," Nala said with a wide-eyed innocent expression.

With a nod at the women, he walked away doing his best not to favor the aching foot.

Whomever the minx married, the hapless man would live to regret it.