To Wed A Highlander

HIGHLAND BRIDE

“Are you saying you want a marriage in name only?” Makenna asked.

“I am not a monk, Makenna, nor do I intend to live like one. I am a man who wants sons, and this will be a marriage in every sense of the word,” he vowed before claiming her mouth for his own.

The second his lips touched hers, Makenna felt herself responding. His mouth was warm and soft, silently urging her to comply. Half her mind waited for the feeling of wrongness to take over and end this insanity. But it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel like she was kissing the man who made her curse more in the past twelve months than in all her painful years of training. Colin was teaching her what it was like to be a woman, to kiss like a woman, to feel like a woman. It was incredible, unexpected, and powerful. And Makenna wanted more.

As if they had a will of their own, her arms stole around his neck as her lips parted in a silent plea for him to deepen the kiss. Colin needed no further encouragement. He moved to cradle her head between his hands and urged her to her tiptoes. She complied and he kissed her long and soft and deep, capturing her tongue and drawing it into his own mouth.

Never had a kiss been so satisfying….

Books by Michele Sinclair

THE HIGHLANDER’S BRIDE

TO WED A HIGHLANDER

Published by Zebra Books

To Wed a Highlander

Michele Sinclair

ZEBRA BOOKS

Kensington Publishing Corp.

www.kensingtonbooks.com

To my mother, Lynda,

who inspired me my whole life.

I owe her much more than this book.

I love and thank you.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter One

Lochlen Castle, Scottish Borders, 1309

“Enough!” bellowed the old laird as he rose stiffly from his chair. His commanding voice belied the weakness of his slow-moving body, as did his brightly lit green eyes. His thick hair, which had once been a dark red, was now a beautiful silver gray barely reaching his shoulders.

Emerald shards of frustration and aggravation lashed out at the two seething figures in his dayroom. Both remained unaffected by his looks of fury. They were too obstinate to realize that his toleration of their mutual detestation had vanished. No longer could they avoid the inevitable.

Alexander clamped his jaws together as a shot of fire coursed through his chest. The pains were becoming more frequent—and more powerful. His time left was limited, and before he died, he vowed his clan would be in the hands of the one man who could ensure its survival.

He glared at the powerful highlander towering motionless near the hearth, and then slid his gaze toward the obstinate redhead across the room. Her jaw was clenched and her hands were clasped behind her back as she paced furiously back and forth across the planked floor. Neither of them was any closer to conceding.

In two strides, Alexander was in front of the hearth and met the fierce gaze of two bright cobalt eyes intense with controlled emotion. Alexander Dunstan knew he was considered a large man by his Lowland peers and had often used his height to intimidate those who had raised his ire. However, the idea of his imposing figure affecting Colin McTiernay was ludicrous. The man was a giant even among Highlanders. And while Alexander would never admit it aloud to anyone, he usually avoided being in situations in which he had to look up at his son-in-law. However, right now, the anger, fear, and frustration boiling in his blood made him oblivious of Colin’s towering stature.

“Pride!” Alexander growled. “Aye, your damned, maddening, and unreasonable pride! It prevents you both from accepting what must be.” Refusing to wince as the burning pressure in his chest strengthened, he returned to the comfortable, oversized chair situated in the middle of the room.

He sank into the well-worn leather cushions hoping the man he had learned to trust above all others would now trust him. Alexander knew his people disliked outsiders, but he also knew that given time, they would follow and respect the Highlander. Colin was one of those rare men a laird was lucky enough to meet, let alone welcome as family. He was a highly skilled soldier, but even more important, Colin’s ability to train and create unbreakable bonds with his men made him an exceptional leader. Loyal, strong, and fair, the Highlander was Alexander’s undeniable choice to lead his proud people. But, more than that, Colin was the only one who could save them.

Alexander shifted his gaze to the slim athletic woman with the fiery red mane and flashing clover-green eyes. There was no doubt she was his daughter. Her long, wild, slightly curly hair matched the color of his youth. Her eyes were both proud and compelling, and her unconventional demeanor reflected more of himself than any son he might have had. But, right now, his youngest daughter’s willfulness was going to destroy not only her future happiness but also that of everyone and everything she loved.

Makenna Dunstan was not exactly ignoring her father, but whenever the Highlander was in sight, her heart raced and her blood boiled. She stopped pacing, crossed her arms, and stared defiantly at her fate looming over the hearth. She then looked at her father and shook her head firmly no, hoping to exhibit the inflexibility of her decision.

Alexander closed his eyes and after a few moments reopened them. “I love you, Áille, but your pride will give you no lasting joy,” he cautioned her solemnly.

Makenna increased the grip she had on her arms. Her father’s special epithet for her—most beautiful—had not masked the seriousness of his comment. He fully expected her to be at the chapel tomorrow, in front of everyone, and do the impossible. She would not bend. She could not bend…not on this.

She marched over and knelt by her father’s chair. “Your affections will not dissuade me, Father. I openly admit to my pride. It has given me self-respect and a sense of value. And with my pride, I can promise you I will never marry that overbearing bully of a giant,” Makenna huffed, locking eyes with her oversized nemesis. She rose slowly. “He might have convinced my sister to marry him, but he will never convince me.”

Colin clutched the timber portion of the hearth’s mantel so tightly he could feel the wood begin to give beneath his fingertips. Makenna Dunstan was by far the most infuriating woman in all of Scotland, and despite her impassioned claim, it was he who was refusing to marry her. “I also have my pride, woman, and it does not include latching myself to a female who refuses to know her place. I want a wife who can maintain a keep, not see it go to ruin as she rides wild on her horse trying to be a man she can never be.” Colin’s voice was level and soft, but its impact was just as strong as if he roared the words aloud.

He watched as a slim hand calmly smoothed back loose wisps of curly red hair. The action revealed insolent jade pools framed by long dark lashes. The woman was like unrestrained fire, constantly challenging him on everything. It mattered little to her what her father wanted or what her four older sisters encouraged. She had been allowed to indulge in her peculiar interests for too long. She had never learned how to be a woman, let alone a wife.

Makenna refused to turn away from his cold gaze. She would not give him the satisfaction.

Colin was unmistakably a Highlander, and definitely a McTiernay with his giant build, dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, and stubborn jawline. When Colin married her sister, he had entered the Dunstan home and consequently Makenna’s life. Within weeks, he had started banning her from the few activities that gave her confidence. Even though she was better at them than most men and had been doing them for years, he deemed them unsafe for a woman. Now, for almost two years, she had been forbidden to hunt wild boar or any other beast he deemed to be dangerous. She was never to ride alone, and he had prohibited her from training with his soldiers. One by one, Colin McTiernay had stripped away her favorite pastimes, and all with the blessing of the one person who had previously championed her unusual diversions—her father. She would never marry the dictatorial colossus, tomorrow or any other day.

Makenna released the back of the leather chair, swung around, and begun pacing again. Her father had had enough? Well, she was also done with this conversation. For weeks, she had felt like a caged animal being pressured into a binding agreement that would eventually steal her sanity. Despite her stream of vocal refusals, her father had moved forward inducing her older sisters, Ula and Rona, to plan the wedding. Every local laird had been invited, and most had come. Tomorrow they would all be disappointed.

Makenna took several intakes of breath, determined to maintain her composure. “I cannot do as you ask, Father. I am not ready to pledge myself to any man, but I especially won’t to this one. Deirdre might have loved him, and I have never fathomed why. I don’t disagree that he can lead men and rebuild our battle strength. I will even admit that he should continue to train our soldiers, but I just cannot marry him. I will only make us both miserable, and that cannot be good for anyone, including our clan.”

Shocked by her flattering admission of his abilities, Colin was too stunned to do anything more than stare at her. Never before had Makenna acknowledged his skills or supported his efforts to reestablish the Dunstan army. Outside of his soldiers and Alexander, no one had verbally recognized what he had accomplished. He was about to say as much when Alexander indicated with a flicker of his fingers for him to remain silent.

Alexander understood his youngest daughter’s reluctance. Marrying a Highlander would be difficult, and promising oneself to a McTiernay would be even harder. Their enormous size, dark looks, and cool blue eyes made even the most composed of men sweat. But marrying the husband of her dead sister? It was a near impossible thing to ask. Near.

“I have heard your pleas, Makenna. I have catered to your rebellious ways for too long and now that I require you to act not only for yourself, but for others, you refuse me.”

Makenna winced. “Father, it is not for me, but for this clan that I refuse.”

Alexander’s eyes narrowed and he attacked her declaration. “It is for you. And even your sister, who watches you from above, knows it. Do not pretend otherwise. Accept for once that I know what is best and lean on my judgment. For if you do not, it will be my cousin who decides this clan’s fate—as well as your own.”

Alexander shifted his focus to Colin. “I have heard your excuses as well.” He saw the swift turn of his son-in-law’s head and the burning fire smoldering in the cobalt depths of his eyes. The man had complete control of his actions, and though Colin outwardly appeared calm and collected, Alexander knew he was suppressing his instinct to draw blood. Alexander also knew his words had to strike hard to achieve his goal. He had no more time to wait. “Aye, I said excuses, Colin. Deirdre died nine months ago, and she loved you, son, but she would not have wanted you to live this way—constantly driving yourself and the men. You have a decision to make. Keep your pride and return to your Highlands or finish what you started here. Make your choice. You’re out of time.”

Alexander rotated in his seat and leveled his eyes on his youngest daughter. She stared back undaunted. He had often felt enormous pride in her ability to remain staunch in her convictions. Too many times his delight with her willful behavior had resulted in him giving way to her unorthodox desires. Now she was the only one of his five daughters unmarried. “And you, my Áille, keep your pride as well, but learn to be lonely. For one day, possibly very soon, you will no longer have me to applaud your unusual accomplishments. And whom will you have then? You claim you desire no man, but I put forth that what you have always wanted was for someone to accept you, be proud of you, and love you. I have given you this, but still you want more. Someday you will realize that what you seek needs to be offered by a man, a real man, not one of the malleable ògans who follow you about professing their awe at your skills. Go and prepare yourself for a sad and solitary life, daughter.”

Alexander watched a visibly shaken Makenna absorb his words. More softly, he added, “Colin is right, Makenna. You have little knowledge about being a proper wife, but you could learn.” He paused and waited until she looked at him. “What a man seeks most in a wife you have to give in abundance. That I promise. You just must first learn to trust in him and in yourself.”

He leaned back against the cushions. “And, Colin, despite your year with my Deirdre, you learned very little about being a good husband. Aye, I know the truth. Remember, she was my firstborn, and I knew her for almost six and twenty years before she finally chose you for a husband. Do you know how many she had turned down before you asked for her hand? Do you know why she desired you above all others? Aye, it might have been love, for indeed, she did love you, but she knew even before I did that you could save our people. She waited to marry until she found someone who could do just that. If you choose to leave, her desires for her clan will have been for naught.” Alexander watched the deep blue of the Highlander’s eyes grow darker.

Colin stood silent for several moments before moving toward the large dark walnut door and pushing it open. He stopped his exit halfway into the passage’s outer stone corridor. Gravely, he pivoted and declared quietly, “This isn’t what I wanted, Alexander.”

Green eyes weakened by pain and loss captured the blue ones of the man Alexander had learned to trust and lean upon. “I know,” Alexander replied, “but it has to be. Either you and Makenna marry tomorrow or you leave. Both of you, go now and make peace with your decision.”

Alexander closed his eyes and listened to his daughter’s light retreating footsteps followed by Colin’s heavier ones. Two years ago, when his eldest daughter had announced her decision to marry the second eldest of the famous McTiernays, he never dreamed he would select Colin to be the next laird of his clan. Yet soon after their marriage vows, Alexander knew Colin was the one man who could ensure that his Dunstan lineage continued to grow and be prosperous.

His clan was not ready for another war, and yet despite Edward I’s celebrated death, a fight was coming in the shape of his son, England’s new king. Located on the Scottish Borders, the Dunstan clan was especially vulnerable. It needed a brilliant leader like Colin, who possessed the rare ability to train raw men into skilled warriors ready for combat.

Makenna, with her unorthodox habits of training with the soldiers, was the only one of his offspring who understood just how depleted the Dunstan forces had become while supporting Wallace’s cause. Without McTiernay’s leadership and legendary ability to train and build a loyal force, his people would be enveloped by another branch of Dunstans, and his bloodline would fade as if it never was. Makenna would most likely be forced to wed the man designated to run Lochlen Castle, and Colin would be obliged to return north, causing his soldiers to either go with him or disperse. Some would join Robert the Bruce’s campaign, but very few would remain loyal to the Dunstans. Most had joined to follow McTiernay, and the majority of them would follow him to the Highlands if he left. Eventually the Dunstans would be no more.

There would be a marriage tomorrow.

There had to be.

Colin marched out of the dayroom and descended the tower’s stone spiral staircase. Rounding the last turn, he exited into Lochlen Castle’s inner ward and proceeded along the southern curtain wall leading to the inner gate. Named for Malcolm Canmore III, the Canmore and Forfar Towers were two of the castle’s most prominent structures.

After the Viking raids, Malcolm III was one of Scotland’s first rulers to defy the Norman kings of England reluctant to accept Scottish independence. Malcolm’s leadership inspired the construction of many keeps, including Lochlen, named after the small lake located southwest of the castle’s town wall. Continually fortified for over two hundred years, Lochlen had been transformed into a small, well-fortified castle nestled between the Lammermuir Hills and the River Dye Water. Seven towers unevenly spaced to fit the rolling contours of the land formed the castle’s odd-shaped inner ring. Surrounding the main castle was a thick outer curtain wall connected by intermittent round drum towers situated to protect the two main outer gates.

Colin had intended to continue expanding and securing Lochlen by completing the town wall surrounding the local village. While it would only protect clansmen who made their home behind the stone barrier, the wall would create a place for Dunstans and allies to come and seek refuge when under attack.

With Alexander’s decree that he leave, the wall would be completed without him.

Colin’s mood darkened with each step. He had been walking among Dunstan clansmen for almost two years and still the men and women scampered like frightened children out of his path. Today was no different as one by one they ceased their occupation and dashed out of view. He knew his black mood was clearly etched on his face, but Colin doubted his expression was the cause behind their fast disappearance. The Lowlanders darted out of sight because of who he was—an unwanted outsider, an undesired future clan leader, and worst of all—a Highlander.

Only one man in sight was brave enough to approach Colin rather than flee. With one brief glance, Dunlop discerned his commander’s ill temper and the conversation that had caused it. Wide-shouldered and muscular with thinning brown hair, Dunlop deluded many to believe he was older than a man of five and twenty years. Even Colin had been surprised to learn Dunlop’s age when he was first conscripted into the Highlander’s burgeoning cluster of men. Soon, though, Dunlop and his best friend, Drake, were true converts, learning much from the Highlander, including how to trust and follow an outsider. Colin in turn had made them both his commanders. In time, Dunlop and Drake learned how to train and then strengthen raw, inexperienced men with the necessary skills to become warriors. It was now their responsibility to observe the ranks and ensure that the skills of every man grew steadily each day.

In order to hide their multiplying numbers, Colin had split his men into two groups. Those ready for combat honed their abilities behind the Lammermuir Hills under Drake’s command. A lack of natural passes and the hills’ steep gradients, though not especially high, formed a formidable barrier. Consequently, travelers circumvented the area, unaware of the nearby force being trained discreetly. Dunlop worked with the second group, consisting of new and inexperienced recruits, in the Dunstan training fields located east of the town wall in an isolated spot to discourage casual observation.

Colin was well aware that many believed his army consisted of only those men spotted training in the fields. They thought his training slow, his numbers few, and the soldiers unprepared. He did not intend to convince them or anyone else otherwise.

Soon after his arrival, when the army’s growth started becoming noticeable, Colin and Alexander decided to keep its true size a secret known only to them and his commanders, Dunlop and Drake. Makenna was the one person Colin suspected might be able to discover the truth. Despite ending her eccentric habit of training and sparring with his men, the willful woman wanted to watch. Very quickly, she would have noticed skilled soldiers disappearing from the training grounds and would have sought him out for answers. Colin had no intentions of giving explanations, especially to where his more advanced soldiers had gone. Consequently, he had forbidden her to come near the grounds, a decision he had paid for many times with loud curses and verbal attacks.

Dunlop turned and fell into step alongside his commander. Walking beneath five raised iron portcullises, they traversed the large inner gatehouse. Entering into the wide outer yard created between the inner and outer curtain walls, they passed the armory. Dunlop took his cue from Colin and only gave a perfunctory nod to the older gentleman standing in the doorway. The action conveyed that Colin’s conversation with Laird Dunstan and his daughter had ended even worse than Dunlop had originally surmised. For it was rare that his commander did not stop and greet Camus, a sword smith Colin both respected and called friend.

Colin headed straight toward the stables located against the southwest corner of the outer curtain wall. Dunlop followed but stopped just inside the stable doors. A cold expression filled his commander’s face, and he could not discern whether he should leave or stay. Not able to choose, Dunlop waited patiently for instructions as he watched Colin prepare and then mount the monstrous black horse. Despite the beast’s size, the animal was quick and nimble and responded to Colin’s slightest commands.

Dunlop leaned against the wide door frame and gestured for the stable master to leave. Colin rarely exposed his anger, but in his present mood, it would take very little to antagonize him.

The source of Colin’s frustration was not in question, but Dunlop wondered at the exact cause of its current intensity. For the past month, both Colin and Makenna had been steadfast in their convictions not to marry, and the laird had been equally clear about his disappointment. Then again, the pressure to marry was steadily increasing as the stream of visitors continued to arrive at Lochlen for a ceremony that was supposed to happen on the morrow.

Colin sat bareback for a moment staring at the black mane of his horse. Pulling the reins to depart, he realized Dunlop was still calmly standing at the entrance. Lines of frustration deepened along Colin’s brows and along his forehead. “Ride with me, Dunlop, but I warn you, I am not prepared to speak of my exchange with Alexander.”

Dunlop gave a light shrug in agreement. “Aye. Where do we ride?” he inquired, moving to jump onto his preferred brown stallion.

“We’ll follow the river,” Colin replied as he urged his black out of the stables and toward the town gate. Once outside, he drove his horse over the green and gold grassy knolls and headed south toward the River Dye Water.

Dunlop assumed Colin would ease the force at which he rode once they reached the river’s rocky banks, but Colin just turned east and continued hard beside the water’s strong current. Dunlop had begun to wonder if Colin was planning to ride all the way to the North Sea before he finally reduced his speed.

Slowing to a stop, Colin slid off the animal’s wet back and stared into the setting sun. The ride had done nothing to end the war raging in his head. Two incompatible options loomed before him, both with unacceptable consequences.

Instinct said to return to the land that spiraled into the sky with frigid cold lochs and men and customs he understood.

Pride required he stay and complete what he had started. Honor was forcing him into doing the unthinkable.

He needed to keep the promise he had made to his lovely wife, Deirdre.

She had been so weak for most of their marriage, but in her last hour, she had suddenly become strong in her desire to have him understand what he needed to do. “My dearest Colin, you have taken such good care of me. I fell in love with you when I first saw you. I will never regret one moment of the time we have shared.”

Her voice had been soft, but unusually firm. It scared him. “Don’t speak, my bean si. Just conserve your strength and get better,” he whispered, clasping her pale, cool fingers as he knelt by her bedside. Fear gripped him. He was going to lose her.

Her hazel eyes smiled at him. “I have been so unfair to you, my Colin, so incredibly unfair, and yet you never wavered.”

He kissed her lips lightly and smoothed back the pale gold strands of her hair, fingering their softness. “You have never been unfair to me, Deirdre. I never wanted to marry until I met you, and never once have I had a single regret.”

Deirdre reached up and caressed his cheek. “No, I have been selfish, Colin. I was never the wife you needed me to be. I was just lucky to be the one you loved.”

“I was lucky to have found you.”

She lowered her hand and smiled, shaking her head. “Ah, Colin, you deserve someone who can match your passions, stand by your side when needed, and be a true friend. Until now, I could not be that for you.”

“You have always been more than enough for me.”

“It is kind of you to say, Colin. You may even believe that, but I know the truth.” Deirdre put a finger against his lips, preventing him from arguing. “I needed you, Colin, and you were there for me, but when did you ever need me? I mean need me. I know you don’t understand, but I pray that someday you will and that you will need your wife as much as she needs you.”

Colin placed a warm, tender kiss against her palm. “Shhh. You are speaking nonsense. There will be no one else. I want only you, bean si.”

Deirdre sighed at his pet name for her. Fairy woman. “For everything that you have given me, I want to give something to you in return.” Deirdre took his strong fingers into her own and squeezed them. “Colin, I want you to marry Makenna.”

Instinctively, Colin retreated several inches. “Marry Makenna! Are you mad?”

Her eyes danced. “I thought you said I was the sanest of the Dunstan daughters, and Makenna was the crazy one,” she chided him softly.

He released her fingers and sat back, running his hand roughly through his hair. “She is! She’s wild and crazy and completely without control. She does nothing but argue and fight against everything I do. The woman…”

“Makes you come alive. Listen to you. Even now you show more life at the mention of her name than anything I have ever done.”

Colin was about to argue that he preferred her quiet nature when Deirdre began to cough. She was failing fast and the last thing he wanted to do was argue with her. He silently vowed to agree with whatever she said.

Deirdre fought to suppress her coughing attack and said firmly, “A marriage to Makenna will protect the clan, and despite what you think, she will make you a good wife. And, Colin, when you find yourself falling in love with her, I want you to know that it is a good thing, a wonderful thing, to find love twice. And when you find yourself happy—happier than you ever were with me—know that I am looking down with joy. That it’s what I wanted. That above all other things, yours and Makenna’s happiness is my last wish.”

All these months later, he could still see the look of peace on Deirdre’s face after he agreed to consider her request. Even today, he could not fathom why his lovely, gentle wife had thought he could be contented with such an irrepressible creature as her sister.

Colin had buried Deirdre on a cool foggy October morning truly believing her to be his first and last wife. Never did he imagine that nine months later he would be forced into the one thing he vowed never to do again—marry. And in truth, his oath had very little to do with Makenna.

He had been in Ayrshire fighting alongside Robert the Bruce at the Battle of Loudoun Hill when he met Deirdre, who was visiting her sister to celebrate the English’s defeat. He thought he had finally found a woman with whom he could enjoy a marriage similar to his parents’. Beautiful as she was, petite, and with a smile that could warm the coldest of nights, Colin believed he and Deirdre would eventually create the unique bond only soul mates shared. Instead, he had watched Deirdre become ill again and again, becoming weaker each time, never able to do anything about it.

“Dunlop?” Colin asked abruptly. The sudden noise startled both his guard and horse.

“Aye, Colin,” Dunlop responded after recovering.

“Do you know the laird’s cousin? Is Alexander correct in his belief that his cousin would challenge me as laird if I remained unwed to a Dunstan?”

Dunlop took a deep breath and exhaled. So that was where Colin’s mind was at…the possibilities of continuing his work here without having to marry. “I wish it were not so, but the man would undoubtedly oppose your being laird. Robert Dunstan swore an oath, as did Alexander, that only descendents of their blood would inherit Lochlen. He respects you and the McTiernays, but only if you were to marry and have children with a Dunstan would he support your claim.”

Colin recognized the truth of his words. “Who would Robert name?”

Dunlop played with the hair on his chin, the one place it grew in abundance. “I assume you mean who besides Cedric would Robert name as laird,” he stated, receiving affirmation by Colin’s nod. “Aye, that is the struggle. I doubt there is anyone else. And while Cedric is likeable, he is no leader and definitely no warrior. Another reason why Robert would not interfere if you were married to Alexander’s heir.”

Colin flexed his fists. Cedric was an agreeable lad, but young and inexperienced. Despite his good intentions, Alexander’s clan would collapse at the first sign of any battle—whether with neighboring Lowlanders or the English. Most Dunstan allies were at least a two-days’ ride away, and it took time to muster forces and move them. For Alexander’s lineage to survive, the Dunstan clan had to be capable of repelling an unexpected attack for several days, if not weeks. Even then, it was risky, as current allies were pledged to Alexander, not Cedric. Only since Colin had taken over the training and continued the fortification of the town wall was the idea of a safe and growing Dunstan clan becoming feasible.

Colin flexed his hands again. He needed more time, the one thing he did not have.

Dunlop grimaced and voiced the dreaded option of marriage. “Colin, I do not envy you or your decision. Makenna is a wild beauty and would be difficult to tame.”

Colin felt his jaw clench. “Damn near impossible. And she is no beauty. There is defiance in everything about her, from her unruly red hair to her insolent green eyes.”

“Aye, I’ve seen them, and it’s not insolence, but fear you see,” Dunlop disagreed, his tone hesitant.

Colin fought from snorting aloud. “Fear? Dunlop, are you crazed? That woman fears nothing, no one. Even when she should.”

Dunlop shook his head. It was dangerous to counter Colin, but it was important that his friend understood Makenna—especially if they were to wed. “Nay, she fears anything she cannot do well, including marriage. And she definitely is a beauty. Unconventional maybe, but unquestionably bonnie, especially when she leaves her hair unbraided. Many men think so, including Laird MacCuaig. It is rumored that he has more than once tried to convince her to marry him. She is probably the only person in the world more against the concept of matrimony than you.”

Colin looked at the departing sun and twisted the dark mane of his horse in his fingers and easily swung onto its back. “She will have to get over it, then.”

Dunlop moved toward his own mount. “You have made your decision?”

“I have. Ride and inform Laird Dunstan to find his daughter. We wed tomorrow.”

“Aye,” Dunlop answered, swinging onto the brown stallion. “Are you riding on?”

Colin nodded woodenly, still digesting his decision. “I’ll tell the men later. Right now, I need to think.” And thinking meant a long, cold swim.

Makenna took a step toward the edge of the small loch her home was named after and dipped her bare foot beneath the surface to test the temperature of its hidden depths. Despite the early summer’s warmth, the water was still cool.

It was late and the dark night sky would blanket her path home, but at least she was finally alone. It had been difficult to elude the two guards Colin had ordered to watch her whenever she ventured outside Lochlen. At first, it had been easy to sneak by them, but they had learned her tricks faster than she could devise new ones. She had to be especially clever upon her return or yet another pathway to freedom would be stymied.

She yanked her red and green bliaut over her head and threw it on a nearby tree branch. Her off-white chainse immediately followed. “It’s unfair!” she yelled at no one. “Of all the people in this world forced to marry, it should not be me. Father could have no doubts that I would make the worst wife. Colin certainly has none. Then what do I care what that man thinks? The only thing more intolerable than Colin McTiernay is being Lady McTiernay,” Makenna said, shuddering at the idea.

Her older sisters had chided her for years about her tendency of talking out loud to herself, but like most of their criticisms, it had fallen on deaf ears. Makenna had told them it was an unbreakable habit. It was other people’s burden, not hers. But, in truth, she hated being an annoyance or a millstone to anyone, almost as much as she hated to fail.

Makenna stripped off her last piece of clothing and without hesitation, dove into the cold waters. She held her breath and waited for her body to adapt to the icy sensation against her bare skin. When her lungs could stand no more, she broke through the surface and took in a deep breath. The cold was near unbearable, but the silence and the lack of company were worth the self-inflicted torture. Tonight, however, the numbing benefits of the loch could not remove the sting of her failure.

Lochlen Castle was slowly falling apart. During the first few months after Deirdre’s death, life had progressed normally. Chores were done, linens were cleaned, and baths were drawn. Then for some inexplicable reason, random everyday activities had ceased. From the critical steward’s constant looks of expectation and disappointment, she knew it was because of her. So many times she wanted to ask him what to do, but refrained at the last moment as memories of her failing even the most mundane female disciplines filled her head.

“And that is why I just cannot marry anyone. I don’t know how to be a wife, let alone a laird’s wife. Why, Lord? Why wasn’t I born a boy?” she cried out in anguish.

Makenna stroked the water, focusing on the feel of the rippling water against her nude frame now moderately acclimated to the cool temperature. Since she was a child, she had deliberately avoiding any domestic endeavor, instead focusing on exciting activities such as hunting, riding, and swordplay. Those times she had been cornered by one of her four sisters into some keep endeavor, she had failed miserably. “Why is it that everyone wants what I cannot give and forbids what I can?” she sighed aloud and maneuvered to the large rock that jutted out from the water’s surface almost forty feet from the shoreline.

Deirdre had been the one to show her this small secluded spot and had taken her here as a child to go swimming. Deirdre would never go in, but she would watch as Makenna frolicked in the water. Later, it became a place for them to talk, just them—no one else.

People, especially her father and later Colin, were so careful around Deirdre. They never raised their voice or challenged her on anything. Deirdre said she hated it, but Makenna, who did not feel inhibited by her sister’s frailty, challenged the avowal. “You love it, Deirdre. You know you do. Everyone caters to your whims. Think how much it would bother you if someone actually challenged or refused one of your requests. If you were honest, you would not deny this.”

“If I did make such a confession, then I would only do so to you. You keep me grounded, Makenna. Without your honesty, I should be lost.”

“Then I shall supply it forever. Besides, without you, I would be doomed for perpetual sorrow. For I know it is you who ran interference with that hulking husband of yours and got his permission for me to ride and hunt again.”

“I am sorry Colin would not also let you train with his men. It was your most favorite of loves.”

“I’ll take what I can get. I just wish you would ride with me.”

Deirdre shook her head daintily. “Not for me. I’ll leave that lively activity for you. I’m perfectly happy running Lochlen.”

“Thank the Lord,” Makenna murmured aloud.

“You should be thanking your luck that Father Renoir decided to return to France. If he heard your language of late, you would spend all your hours in repentance.”

Makenna headed for the shore. “I’m glad he’s gone. If it weren’t your husband nagging me on this and the other, it was Father Renoir. Both men are completely impossible to please.”

“If you knew Colin better, I think you would like him…a lot. He’s a great deal like you. All fire and passion. I often think he would be happier married to someone with your zest and energy.”

“Ha! He’s your husband, not mine,” Makenna said, rising from the waters. “I choose never to marry.”

Deirdre threw Makenna a cloth. “Not even to Laird MacCuaig?” Deirdre asked mischievously. “I understand that he has been after Father for your hand for some time.”

Makenna faked a shudder and continued drying her legs. “Especially not to him. He’s…I don’t know, but he is…something. I don’t trust him.”

Deirdre hopped off the low-lying limb. “Then neither do I. I trust your instincts, Makenna. I wish you would trust mine about Colin. He really is a wonderful man. No woman could ask for a better husband.”

The memories of her sister were so strong Makenna could still feel Deirdre’s presence, even all these months later.

Makenna squeezed her eyes tightly together. If she did marry Colin, they would both be miserable regardless of her sister’s fervent deathbed pleas otherwise. Deirdre had been graceful, petite, fair, soft-spoken, and mild-mannered. She was what Colin desired for a spouse, not her.

Makenna opened her eyes and peered over the semi-slick rock to study the other side of the slim oval-shaped loch. The opposite shoreline was a good distance away, but she knew instantly she was alone.

More than once, she had seen Colin use the grassy banks across from her secluded rocks as an entrance to the peace and cold the loch provided. She was positive he had never been aware of her presence. He was too focused when he swam, vigorously stroking the cool water as if he were trying to drive out a demon. She had watched in secret fascination.

He was big and powerful and proud. There was no mistaking him for a Lowlander. Everything about Colin, from his stance, to his walk, to his all-around demeanor exposed his Highlander origins. He was arrogant and overbearing, but he moved beautifully. She had never seen a man with such control over everything he did. Though she would never admit it, even to Deirdre if she were still alive, Makenna had often wished to find someone with Colin’s self-discipline, muscular body, and ability to lead.

Never, however, did she wish it to be Colin McTiernay. “No, I want someone who will love me, not dominate me. I want someone I can trust, who will trust me in return. Forgive me, Lord, but, damn you, Colin McTiernay!” she shouted before dropping down into the water and swimming underneath its surface to the shore.

Colin came to an immediate halt. He had debated on jumping into the cold retreat, but at the last moment, he had changed his mind. Instead, he had dismounted his horse and led it around the small loch knowing each step brought him closer to Lochlen…and his fate. He had no doubt Makenna’s reaction had been explosive when Dunlop relayed his decision. She was most likely pacing in front of the outer gate preparing to spring a stream of arguments upon him.

Colin swallowed heavily. If he dreaded returning home now, how could he bear living with her…being married to her? The question was still ringing in his head when he heard the splashing and unintelligible mutterings of a female.

Colin moved into the shadows, welcoming the diversion, curious to discover who was foolish enough to swim alone and in the dark. A second later, he knew the identity of the fool. The familiar hiss followed by a “Damn you, Colin McTiernay!” left no doubt as to who the night swimmer was—Makenna.

Shaking his head in exasperation, Colin tied his horse to a nearby branch and turned to reprimand her for once again ditching her guards. Before he could utter a word, he was struck dumb and immobile.

Unaware of Colin’s presence, Makenna rose out of the water completely nude. She threw her head back to wring out her hair. The action thrust her pale breasts upward. Colin watched unable to breathe as the droplets of water slid down the curvature of each full swell to her navel and then lower.

The cresting moon provided just enough light to reveal a level of female perfection he had not realized was possible until now. Colin knew he should move, say something to let Makenna know he was there, but he was finding it difficult to breathe, let alone speak. Instead, he stared transfixed and became, for the first time since he could remember, unmistakably—and worse—uncontrollably aroused.

The concept was inconceivable. He had always been able to contain his passions. He could blame the unexpected reaction on his empty bed. He could claim that seeing any naked woman would make him hard with need, but it would not be the truth. Makenna Dunstan was incredibly beautiful.

Her face, no longer hidden by her mass of fiery hair, revealed delicate facial bones and a full mouth. Her skin was the color of pale cream mixed with a bare pink tint. Long, wet tendrils fell behind her shoulders down to the middle of her back, softening her athletic appearance. For the first time, Colin could see both her strength and her femininity. Makenna was not a fragile, ethereal fairy creature, but a woman made for a man.

Makenna reached for her chainse and pulled it on. The worn cloth clung to her wet skin. Knowing now what secrets it hid, Colin wanted to reach out and rip the gown off her. He wanted to touch her skin and discover if it was as soft as it looked from the shadows.

Colin leaned back against the tree trunk and forced himself to take a deep breath. He had no idea what was happening, but he had to stop it. There was one sure way to end this violent need coursing through him and that was just to talk to her. Makenna could drive a man to the brink of insanity faster than anyone. Surely, three words from her and the world would be righted again. He opened his eyes and moved out from the shadows.

Makenna was wrapping the gold belt of her bliaut around her waist when she heard the crack of a twig break beneath someone’s foot. “Who goes there?”

“It is I, Makenna,” Colin said softly, emerging halfway out of the trees. He was waiting for his body to calm, but the fire in his loins seemed to grow only hotter when her eyes found his. Independence, strength, and passion shimmered in the bright emerald depths.

Makenna was startled by Colin’s sudden appearance and low voice. He was half in the shadows, but she could still see his muscles rippling beneath his leine. The very way he stood was unlike any other man. She had never met anyone who was so at ease with himself as Colin McTiernay. Still, she always sensed he felt alone. He had the unswerving loyalty of his men, yet he never seemed to be one of them. Colin remained emotionally distant—even with his commanders.

She doubted anyone saw or even cared how isolated he was. Colin towered over everyone. He was undoubtedly the most skilled warrior his men had ever met. He exuded unbelievable strength just by his sheer size. Yet his blue eyes reflected a kind of lonesomeness she expected few saw.

Makenna suddenly realized she was staring at him. Pride immediately lashed out before he would realize the nature of her thoughts. “Decided to follow me yourself tonight, did you, McTiernay?”

Colin had thought for one moment they were going to have a real conversation, or at least a civil one. Her eyes had revealed concern and a longing for something right before they turned bright with indignation. The woman was a mixture of emotions, most of them incredibly exasperating. “No, it was by sheer accident I stumbled upon you still dripping from the loch,” he contended, pointing at her wet tresses. “Where are Gorten and Brodie?”

“Where do you think?” she retorted, jutting out her chin and placing her fists on her hips.

Colin rolled his eyes at her childish stance and waved his finger at her pose. “I think you find enjoyment in doing whatever I ask you not to do.”

“Not everything, McTiernay. But I admit to a wee amount of pleasure when I can rid myself of the two overseers you charged to ruin my life.”

“I did not realize that keeping you safe and well was contrary to your future plans.”

She took a step forward and replied through stiff lips, “My safety was never an issue before you arrived.”

Colin took a step even closer. “The Dunstans were never a threat to anyone till I arrived.”

“I’ve seen your army, Colin. We’re still no threat.”

Colin felt a muscle in his jaw flicker angrily. “If you knew me before I…” He paused and took three deep breaths. The woman was baiting him, and he was reacting to her gibes. “You should realize the folly of such assumptions. If you did, you would have made damn sure Gorten and Brodie were with you tonight.”

He had stopped himself, but Makenna knew exactly what Colin had been about to say. “Before I married your sister.” It only proved once again that she was right to refuse her father and remain unwed. A marriage was between two people, not three. And Deirdre would always be there. She was Colin’s first wife, her best friend, and their only commonality.

“I doubt your men wanted to go swimming with me.”

Makenna Dunstan could try a saint. Before Colin realized it, he was shouting at her. “If you want to swim, tell me, and I’ll take you.”

“Never, McTiernay,” she hissed. “I’ll not have you or your men hanging about while I’m unclothed. I’ll ride with your men, I’ll even hunt with them, but I’ll be damned if I swim with them!”

“Mo Chreach! My commands are not requests that you can choose to follow or disregard. Gorten and Brodie are to be with you each and every time you venture outside the town wall, and if I hear of you leaving again without them as escorts, amaid, you won’t be leaving at all.”

Makenna’s eyes flashed with fury. She could not choose which angered her the most, his command that she be followed about, his threat to confine her if she disobeyed, or that he had just called her a foolish woman. But, foolish or not, she recognized the seriousness of Colin’s threats. He meant them. He truly thought her to be unsafe alone in the lands and waters she had known her entire life. Even worse, if he believed her to be unsafe, so would her father. There would be no reprieve.

“Fine. They will be aware of whenever I leave, but they will have to keep up. I refuse to slow for your men.”

Colin closed the distance between them with one last stride and clutched her arm before she could retreat. “I want your word, Makenna. You will tell Gorten and Brodie each and every time you leave the town walls.”

His grip was strong, but not painful. It was meant to secure, not harm. Only by struggling would she hurt herself. The concept that he could both render her helpless and be in control of her fate was maddening. Makenna was tempted to stand silent and wait him out, but one look into his deep blue depths, she knew that despite her stubbornness, he would win the battle. “You have it,” she whispered.

Colin immediately let go, knowing her pride would bind her to the promise more than any threat he could make. With Alexander’s failing health, there was great debate over the fate of Lochlen and its people. Many neighboring lairds were here to witness a marriage and decide if the Highlander was to be called friend or enemy. They came with small armies, poised not only to protect but also to attack.

If Makenna Dunstan were captured, a battle for her release would follow, and Colin would lose a critical advantage. He needed to keep the size of his army a secret until he knew whom he would call ally and foe as the new Dunstan laird. As such, he would protect anything, or anyone, who could be used as leverage against him. And if that meant caging the exotic wild creature, he would.

Colin had chosen Gorten and Brodie to be Makenna’s escorts with extreme care. Both were masters in all of her fields of comfort. Expert horsemen, they could ride, hunt, and if necessary disarm her if she decided to draw her sword against them. He doubted she would. Makenna was foolish, but not unintelligent.

“I assume by making me swear this oath it means you’ve decided to stay,” Makenna said, her voice fading into hushed stillness.

Colin answered with a single nod.

“It’s a mistake, McTiernay. You and I will never work. Hasn’t the last few minutes proven that? I know you don’t like the Lowlands. How could you? My people treat you horribly. They don’t deserve you or what you could bring them. I don’t understand why you don’t leave. No one would think less of you.”

Colin was taken aback by her statement. Not one person, including Alexander and Deirdre, had ever acknowledged the poor behavior of the Dunstans. “I would think less of me, Makenna. Honor demands that I stay.”

“Nay, it is your pride that makes you resist what you know you should do. You hate it here. You have to,” she said softly, pleading for him to agree. Instead, he shook his head.

“Actually, I love Scotland—all of it. And these Lowlands protect my Highland mountains. I stay because I want to, Makenna,” he gently countered, watching her wring her hands in frustration…or maybe it was panic.

Stripped as she was of her haughty demeanor, Colin could see that Dunlop had been correct. Makenna was indeed afraid. Until now, Colin had not realized how much the idea of marriage frightened her. Gone was the snippy female who verbally attacked him whenever possible. In her place was a panic-filled woman who kept looking at him with large liquid-green eyes that begged him to change his mind.

Colin was about to pull her into his arms and whisper it would be all right, that she had nothing to fear, when Makenna tried one last plea for a reprieve. “If you marry me, you will grow to hate this land you now claim to love. I tell you the truth,” she said, stepping backward until she bumped into a tree. “I would be a horrible wife for any man. I have no knowledge about running a home, let alone a keep the size of Lochlen. My knowledge of men is limited to what they can do with an axe and a broadsword, and no matter how hard I would try, I could never be the kind, gentle beauty Deirdre was.” Makenna had barely spoken the last words when she found herself pinned between his two hands and the tree.

Hearing Makenna say that she would try and fail to be Deirdre caused a reaction in Colin he couldn’t explain. It was incredibly important that she not be like his late wife. “Listen to me now, Makenna. I don’t expect you to be, nor do I want you to try to be, Deirdre. She was my wife, and she is now dead.”

Makenna gulped. His face was mere inches away from hers. His blue eyes blazed with an intensity that reinforced his every word. Suddenly, her eyes popped open and became large with hope. “Are you saying you want a marriage in name only?”

Colin could feel the quick rise and fall of her hand-sized breasts. Just one more inch closer and he would feel her slim hips against his. She licked her full lips and Colin knew that he wanted to taste them, pull at them, devour them. No, this would not be a marriage in name only. “I am not a monk, Makenna, nor do I intend to live like one. I am a man who wants sons, and this will be a marriage in every sense of the word,” he vowed before claiming her mouth for his own.

The second his lips touched hers Makenna felt herself responding. His mouth was warm and soft, silently urging her to comply. Half her mind waited for the feeling of wrongness to take over and end this insanity. But it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel like she was kissing the man who made her curse more in the past twelve months than in all her painful years of training. Colin was teaching her what it was like to be a woman, to kiss like a woman, to feel like a woman. It was incredible, unexpected, and powerful. And Makenna wanted more.

As if they had a will of their own, her arms stole around his neck as her lips parted in a silent plea for him to deepen the kiss. Colin needed no further encouragement. He moved to cradle her head between his hands and urged her to her tiptoes. She complied, and he kissed her long and soft and deep, capturing her tongue and drawing it into his own mouth. Never had a kiss been so satisfying.

Makenna’s untutored passion was unmatched by any woman he had ever touched. Her fiery nature made him desire her more than he dreamed possible. Was it because she was so different from Deirdre? His late wife had been too fragile for the passion and heat of desire. Whatever the reason, he no longer cared.

Makenna had been kissed, but never like this. Oh, Leon MacCuaig had tried often enough and every once in a while landed a lucky peck, but he had no idea how to touch a woman and cause her to burn up in flames. Colin was creating sensations and reactions she couldn’t explain. Her body was quivering, and at any moment, her legs would give beneath her. She clutched his shoulders, afraid that if she fell, the spell would be gone.

Deep inside her, something had recognized and then responded to the masculine need in him. It wasn’t just a physical need, but a connection. A commonality beyond that of her sister. It was two lonely souls finding one another in a storm of passion and need.

Colin nipped at her lips before plunging again into the warmth of her mouth, seeking her tongue. She welcomed every stroke, every caress with equally surprising passion. Makenna clung to him in confusion and desire. He could feel her tremble and pulled her close to keep her from falling. He was not ready to end this unexpected gift she was giving him.

Makenna was sharing a piece of herself she had shared with no man. Colin felt both satisfaction and fulfillment, knowing he was the first to discover the passions that lay beneath her prickly demeanor. It would be worth enduring a hundred verbal wars with her to experience this again.

Makenna moved closer, clinging to him as if her body knew there was more. Colin’s heart was pounding so fast he thought it would explode. Every caress, every response she gave him was genuine, unrehearsed, unforced. She wanted him; he wanted her. Badly. So much that if he did not stop now, he wouldn’t be able to.

When he finally forced his lips to release hers, his chest was heaving with the effort it took to breathe. He gathered her close against him and thrust his fingers through her thick damp hair.

A deep sigh escaped her slightly swollen lips. She could feel his dark body hair beneath her cheek in the opening of his leine and decided she never wanted to move. He smelled so good, and it felt strangely right to be this close to him. Tomorrow she would wonder why she had been drawn to his embrace, and if she had only imagined the powerful emotions hidden beneath Colin’s cool exterior. But for right now, she just wanted to relish his strength and control and the intoxicating effect of his kisses.

Colin held her for several minutes waiting for his body to calm. Instead, every muscle remained alive with need. She had to leave and quickly, before he lost the control he took such pride in having. “Be at the chapel an hour before the sun sets. Tomorrow we will be wed,” he ordered gruffly, moving her away from him.

Colin quickly turned around lest she see his burgeoning manhood. Cold water was his only hope in dampening the fires she had ignited with her honest response to his embrace. Even with his back to her, he could still see the memory of her naked flesh as she emerged dripping with lucky droplets of water that touched every morsel of her body.

He dove into the cold waters thankful for their magical cure, but he knew it was only temporary. Later, as he sought sleep, he would remember her taste on his tongue—hot, wet, and sweet. Thank God, he only had to wait one night. Makenna would be his wife on the morrow and as soon as possible afterward, he was going to make love to her until all the needs pulsing through him were satisfied.

Makenna stood puzzled and hurt, staring at his retreating back for several minutes. After all his talk about running around unescorted, the man was actually going to leave her to ride back to Lochlen alone while he took a swim. The kiss was just a way for him to manipulate her into abiding his will.

She found her brown chestnut tied beside his large black mount and jumped on its back. She looked at the vacant spot from which Colin disappeared and uttered aloud, “You may be able to kiss, Colin McTiernay, but you’re still an overgrown giant. And you may be getting a wife tomorrow, but that doesn’t mean I will suddenly submit to you or your archaic rules. I will ride, and I will hunt, and I will keep training with a sword. And you can find someone else to run your keep and warm your bed.”

Makenna turned her horse and began riding hard back to the noise and firelight of Lochlen. Tears flowed down her cheeks. “What were you thinking, Deirdre?”

Chapter Two

Makenna felt like her mind had temporarily dislodged from her body. From the moment she had woken up, the noise in her chambers had only grown in volume. Her sisters, Rona and Ula, had ordered everyone to report to them, and they had claimed the bride’s room as their base of operations. Nonstop orders were issued to a constant stream of people shuffling in and out of her room. After years of watching her sisters orchestrate every clan event whether large or small, Makenna knew the role she was expected to play—silent and unseen. It seemed her wedding day was to be no different.

“There,” Rona announced with a dramatic sigh, rising to close the door. “I believe everyone is ready but you, Makenna. I am not sure how you would have managed if Ula and I had not been so willing to sacrifice our time away from our own homes.”

With her tall, elegant frame and enviable blond hair, Rona epitomized the Dunstan daughters and she had never let Makenna forget how incredibly different she was from the rest of them.

Makenna glanced at her sister before turning away to roll her eyes. “It’s the least you could do after barging into my room,” Makenna mumbled to herself. “The sun had barely risen before I had to deal with you and Ula’s never-ending chatter about every little thing from my hair to my dress.”

Makenna knew she should have expected her sisters’ early morning greeting. In an effort to gain their father’s favor—and some of his riches—Ula and Rona had arrived at Lochlen over a month ago to ensure that the wedding went off as planned. Brimming with never-ending criticism about the feast, the ceremony, her dress, and even the priest presiding over the nuptials, they had been nearly intolerable. Throughout it all, Makenna had remained firm. There was going to be no wedding, so it was not necessary for anyone to make plans.

Until last night.

As usual during warm summer days, Makenna had opened the window’s shutters and let in the cool night breeze. Normally, such conditions lulled her quickly to sleep, but after Colin’s unexpected kiss and her bewildering response, rest had eluded her. Every sound, every whisper seemed to float up and into her room. She had not realized she had been waiting for Colin until she heard the fateful signs of his return.

The soldiers were just beginning to leave the lower hall for their beds when she heard the fleeing of clansmen feet outside her window. She sat up and listened intently for Colin’s footsteps to follow. She could hear nothing. The man walked with a purpose and with complete control. He probably hadn’t even shuffled his feet as a child.

Snuggling back under the covers, Makenna heard a jubilant roar coming from the lower hall. Colin had announced his decision.

“Those tolla-thons think it’s all him. Well, somebody should thank me as well. It’s not just their commander sacrificing himself for them. I believe I, too, will be at that altar pledging my life away,” she muttered out loud, ripping the light woolen throw off her legs.

Makenna grabbed the Dunstan plaid off the bed and wrapped it around her. The bold red material with bright stripes of yellow, green, and blue clashed terribly with her dark red hair, but it represented all that she loved.

She tiptoed to the heavy wooden door and lifted the latch quietly in case a servant was sleeping outside her door. It was unlikely. She hadn’t had help for months. One day the girl had simply vanished. Left to fend for herself, Makenna soon discovered how much the chambermaids had assisted her with everyday things. Pride kept her from asking the old steward why they had suddenly left. No doubt he would just point a long, crooked finger directly back at her. The man was an expert at assigning responsibility, accountability, and then blame, but he never managed a word of encouragement.

Makenna crept down the hallway to the tower stairwell illuminated with torches at each floor. Her sisters were just below, but she did not intend to sneak past their chambers. She was going up.

Since Forfar Tower’s erection, the laird’s sons and daughters resided in its walls. Its counterpart, Canmore, housed the laird’s solar and his connecting dayroom. Standing on either end of the fortified gatehouse, the towers secured the interior castle ward. Makenna’s great-grandfather decided Lochlen’s inner yard was not large enough to handle the clan’s growing numbers and had ordered a second curtain wall to be built. The resulting enormous outer gatehouse towers provided the sleeping accommodations for most of the soldiers when assigned to Lochlen. This left the upper floors of the inner gatehouse for visitors and other people of importance, and the lower floors for storage, guards, and machinery to operate the portcullis.

Makenna entered the spiraling stairwell just as another euphoric burst erupted. Loud indiscernible shouts were now coming from both halls. Makenna wondered if there was anyone still protecting Lochlen. It sounded as if every soldier had joined the merriment below.

Holding on to the rope suspended down the center of the stairwell, she climbed the two stories from her third-floor chambers to the tower battlements. Lochlen’s spacious fighting platforms provided good vantage points to launch arrows at attackers, but they were also superb spots for watching people undetected.

As soon as Makenna took a step out into the night air, she saw the hulking figure of her guard. Through the crenels, she could see the shadows of other soldiers still at their posts. The number of men on duty might be slightly lower than normal, but every tower and section of the inner and outer curtain walls was manned.

Brodie had heard someone coming up the stairwell and moved to intercept. Never did he dream it would be Makenna. Just minutes ago, Colin had cornered him and Gorten, ordering them to the towers. He was furious with them. Brodie didn’t want to discover what levels his commander’s anger would grow to if he found him with Makenna wrapped in a blanket and dressed only in her chemise. “Milady,” he acknowledged hesitantly.

Makenna arched her eyebrows. Brodie had bright yellow hair many women considered quite attractive. He was of medium height, and so thick with muscles he appeared to be chubby from a distance. Normally, the good-natured guard was full of so much self-confidence it was nauseating. Right now he seemed perplexed…even nervous. “What bothers you, Brodie? My state of dress?”

Brodie’s brown eyes widened in alarm. “If the commander knew you were here…with me…like that, milady, he would be very unhappy. And I would appreciate avoiding any more circumstances that might result in my being the target of his ire.”

“More circumstances? Did Colin lecture you about my abandoning you for a brief swim?”

Brodie rolled his eyes and swallowed a snort. He looked over the wall at the drinking comrades he would have been with and snapped, “Why do you think I have night duty, milady? And will have it for the next fortnight.”

“Good Lord, I assure you I had no intention of getting you or Gorten in trouble. Where is Gorten? Or did he escape the wrath of the almighty Colin?”

Brodie pointed to the top of Canmore Tower in the distance. The large shadow pacing the top was her second victim. Makenna felt instantly ashamed. “I’m so sorry. I will talk to Colin and end this ridiculous punishment.”

Brodie shuddered. “Please do not do that, milady. You do not know our commander as we do. I’d like to keep what little pride I have left, and I’m sure Gorten feels the same.”

Makenna yielded with a slight nod. It would only shame the large guard, and it would put Colin in an awkward position. Ego would keep him from rescinding the order, and possibly even increase the length of Brodie’s and Gorten’s sentences. A fate caused by her own self-interest. “I really had no idea Colin was so intent upon this…this protection. I don’t want it, nor do I need it.” She could see Brodie about to protest and put her hand up to stop him. “But I swore an oath to His High-handedness this evening that I will let you know when I am leaving the keep from now on.”

“Gorten and I thank you enormously, milady.”

Makenna pulled the blanket tighter around her. Brodie was not such a bad fellow. He still needed to gain the control and posture that made a man truly attractive, but he was kind, sweet, and in many ways very handsome. “Hmmm, well, it is not your fault to have such an awful duty. I know I can be quite a chore, and it must be miserable following someone about all day. I know I could never endure such an assignment.”

Brodie laughed. “I must admit Gorten and I dreaded it when the order came. And while nights like these are not enjoyable, we have grown to take pleasure in joining you when you leave. You are truly unlike any woman we have ever known. Gorten says you are quite good with the sword.”

Makenna’s head whipped around. “He told you? That was supposed to be our secret. If Colin ever discovered that I have continued sparring with anyone…well, I have no idea what he would do, but I am sure Gorten and I would be the two most miserable creatures in all of Scotland when he was through.”

“Truer words were never said, milady. However, you must be very good for Gorten to give you a compliment and continue risking potential misery for you. Still, having never seen you fight, I find it hard to believe you can wield a claymore with as much accuracy as Gorten professes.”

Makenna leaned against one of the large stone crenations and looked out at the Dunstan village spreading outside the second curtain wall. “It’s my Secret.”

Brodie’s eyebrows rose inquiringly. “Your secret, milady?”

“Aye, my Secret. A special blade Camus fashioned specifically for me. He’s the one who convinced Father I could and even should learn the art of combat…that is, until someone unconvinced him,” she bristled.

“You refer to the commander now.”

“Indeed I do,” she whispered, watching the late night activity of her clansmen and women. Body language alone told her that the euphoric voices she heard inside the walls did not match those of the shadows moving in the village. The few faces she could make out were mostly grim, and none were smiling. No, the soldiers might be overjoyed their commander was to remain with them and eventually become their laird, but her clan was not of the same mind.

“I should leave you before Colin wonders why there are two bodies up here and decides to abandon the party to investigate.”

Brodie moved out of the way to give her access back down the stairwell. “Thank you, milady; however, the commander has already retired for the evening.”

Makenna paused after descending one step. “He did? I thought Colin would be celebrating his grand decision with his men.”

“No, milady. The commander announced you and he had decided it would be best for the clan and the men if you were to wed. I realize it was not of your choosing, milady, but I…all of us…appreciate the decision. We hope you both will find happiness and peace despite the reasons behind your union.”

Makenna blinked a few times and stared up into the dark, clear sky. Colin had publicly declared that she, too, had made the decision and the sacrifice to wed. She could not recall anyone—especially a man—giving a woman credit in such a way. Not even her father whom she loved with all her heart. Her sisters’ husbands exerted their control whenever possible, always seeking praise for efforts, decisions, and possessions that were not theirs.

Colin’s generosity did not make sense. He had been so adamant against marrying her, implying she was inept and unsatisfactory as a woman. And without warning, he had changed his mind.

Then he had kissed her.

True, it had been her first serious kiss with any man, but she had not been prepared to experience such a rare, passionate connection. Even now she feared only Colin could create the powerful whirlwind of emotion it had awakened within her.

For a moment during their embrace, she believed Colin was experiencing the same tumult of desire, but she had been wrong. He could not have shared the same yearning, craving for her as she had for him and then turn cold and aloof so quickly. Within a blink of an eye, he acted as if the kiss had never happened. With the next blink, Colin made the decision to marry, and she was supposed to go back to the keep and abide by it. But if Brodie’s revelation about Colin’s announcement was true, she might have misinterpreted his reaction to their kiss. How was she going to live with a man who was such a mixture of contradictions and mystery?

“Mystery, Makenna?” Ula inquired, breaking Makenna’s memories of the previous night.

“Did I say that out loud?” Makenna asked weakly.

“Aye, you did,” answered Rona. “But you make no sense. What’s a mixture of contradictions and mystery?”

Ula laughed condescendingly. “What else? Men! It’s about time little Makenna finally figured out why we women find them so fascinating.”

Rona came up and draped a gold cross around Makenna’s neck and clasped it. “Speak for yourself, Ula. My husband stopped being fascinating long ago. I tolerate him because he pampers me and stays out of my way. Though do not get me wrong. I am glad to be married to him. If I weren’t, Father would be forcing me into marrying that hulking Highlander and not poor Makenna.”

Ula faked a shiver. “You can say that again. Even our sister Edna escaped; though I think choosing the church is a little extreme.”

Rona adjusted the gold strand and smiled in smug satisfaction. “Oooh, there. That’s it. I must say, little sister, I never thought you could look this beautiful. Then again, you never would sit still long enough for any of us to see what was under that mass of red hair.”

Ula nodded so enthusiastically Makenna thought her sister’s head would snap off. “Aye, look for yourself, Makenna,” Ula instructed, handing her a flat rectangular reflecting dish of highly polished silver.

Makenna was not fooled by her sisters’ gaiety, nor did she believe their cheery disposition was indicative of her clan’s feelings toward her pending nuptials. Still, they were telling the truth. She did look beautiful. For the first time in her life, she was glad not to possess the straight gold-blond tresses of her four sisters and her mother. She alone had received the Dunstan dark red hair and green eyes. And today, they did not appear to be wild or untidy, but captivating.

“I must say that while the Dunstan colors clash horribly with your hair, this McTiernay plaid does just the opposite,” Ula commented as she finished pinning the pleats of the dark plaid so that it hung off one shoulder and flowed to the floor without disturbing the beauty of the blue bliaut that lay beneath. “When your husband—”

“He’s not my husband yet,” Makenna countered, hoping that by some miracle Colin never would be.

“Fine, when your soon-to-be husband handed me his plaid and instructed that you wear it today, I was concerned it would mar the overall look Rona and I spent hours trying to create. But it has done just the opposite. Don’t you think, sister?”

Rona moved alongside Makenna plucking at phantom pieces of dust before agreeing with Ula’s assessment via a long-winded speech, which spawned a rambling response from Ula and another from Rona.

Makenna tuned them out and again picked up the reflecting dish. She stared into it for several seconds before laying it down. The outward transformation was complete. The navy cloth Ula had used to create her bliaut represented purity and complemented the deep blue in the McTiernay plaid. The rich green of her chemise made the emerald color of her eyes come alive beneath her thick, dark lashes. She looked every bit like a woman about to be married. Her hair was right, her dress was right, her jewelry, even her plaid were just how they should be.

But she was not like any other woman.

Other women knew how to be around men, laugh and flirt with them, manipulating them to do their bidding. Other women would know how to make a man, especially one like Colin, happy. Makenna had never learned the craft. She had never even wanted to. Her sisters believed she desired to be a boy, based on her affinity toward “male-oriented” activities. They were wrong.

Born late and last, Makenna was burdened with four elder sisters. One ignored everybody and everything that was not of the church, but the other three loved to impart instruction whenever possible. Deirdre’s coaching had not been laced with ridicule, but even she had repeatedly reminded Makenna how she didn’t excel at even one domestic activity. By the time Makenna was ten, the difference in their ages became even more apparent as her siblings began to enjoy men’s company and connived of ways to attain it.

Never had Makenna felt more uncomfortable and out of place than when her sisters had entertained. Her awkward, still-growing body never would do what she wanted. Frustrated with her clumsiness, her sisters had ordered her to stay away when guests arrived until she could be in a man’s company without sputtering or knocking something over.

It had been Camus, the wonderful old sword smith, who had come to her rescue. He showed her how to wield a ballock knife. In doing so, Makenna learned how to control her body and understand where she was at all times relative to others and objects around her. In time, she became confident in herself.

Witnessing Makenna’s natural ability and how much she liked the masculine activity, Camus had convinced her father to allow Makenna to continue training. Soon she was able to throw a halberd, and her confidence grew even more as soldiers complimented her skills with the Lochaber axe.

On the training field, Makenna was comfortable around men, never feeling nervous, anxious, or out of place. Only in the great hall did she secretly yearn for her sisters’ effortless ability to converse with men and command their attention as a female.

After Ula and Rona married, Makenna decided she, too, wanted someone to love. Trying to mimic her sisters’ tricks to gain male attention had been a humiliating disaster. As a result, Makenna decided to perfect those activities men respected and ignore the feminine ones she despised.

Makenna put the reflecting dish back on the table. Now the only way she knew how to be around a man and receive notice or admiration was not through physical looks and silly flirting games but through her skills in riding, hunting, and fighting. Fate was cruel, forcing her to marry the one man who admired neither her abilities nor her as a woman.

Makenna stood as everyone disappeared out the door and down the hallway. It was time. She nervously collected the small bouquet of flowers and herbs one of the servants had gathered that morning and debated one more time whether she was doing the right thing. She looked like someone she wasn’t—someone beautiful, feminine, and fragile. If Colin believed her capable of becoming what she currently appeared to be, they were both doomed.

Makenna descended from the last tower step and exited Forfar’s arched stone entrance. As she came into view, a deafening roar erupted from the crowd gathered in the inner ward. Practically every person shouting was a soldier Colin had recruited and trained.

Drake suddenly appeared on her right and escorted her through the throng to the Dunstan chapel located in the opposite corner of the inner yard. The average-size sanctuary had been unused for the past two years since Father Renoir had vacated his post for one in France after the death of England’s king, Edward I. Deirdre had died soon afterward and neither Colin nor her father had searched for another priest. Consequently, Father Lanaghly, the McTiernay priest, had agreed to travel from the Highlands and preside over Colin’s second wedding. When he arrived three days ago, Makenna had been surprised to find the older priest overflowing with kindness and possessing a mischievous twinkle in his deep brown eyes. She wondered whether he would have been so nice if he knew about the friction between her and Colin.

At the chapel tower’s entrance, Drake bowed and left to go inside and join Colin and Dunlop. Makenna took several deep breaths and stepped through the carved stone archway. Immediately the pressure from eyes following her every move came crashing down.

Colin knew the moment Makenna had entered the chapel. Most of the morning he had spent alone and deep in thought. The confusion, the uncertainty he had been feeling about marrying Makenna had vanished the second she responded to his kiss. Never had he dreamed the undisciplined tigress would melt in his arms. But it wasn’t her response that disturbed him the most…it was his. No woman had ever caused him to lose control, and while he had managed to refrain from bedding her yesterday, it had been close. His desire for her was so sudden and intense it had overruled all logic, all conscious awareness, all sanity. He had wanted to devour her and almost had.

He had been the first to truly taste Makenna’s soft lips, and the experience had made him feel powerful and very much a man. It also terrified him.

All morning he had wondered whether he should once again refuse to marry Makenna, but this time for her sake. Deirdre had been terrified of mating because of his size and strength. The protectiveness he felt for his dear wife had overruled his need to make anything but tender love to her the few times they had joined. But with Makenna, he doubted he would have such control. His desire to take her, drive into her, possess her, and make her totally and completely his again and again frightened him. And he had no doubt that if he ever did lose control, it would terrify Makenna and end their inexplicable, passionate connection. Nevertheless, Colin sensed that their coming together was inevitable.

She was the exact opposite of Deirdre. Far from being fragile, Makenna was all fire and spirit, and yet he still wanted to protect her. Rather than quench her zeal for life, he wanted to guard it. And all morning he feared that meant guarding her from him.

As the hour drew nearer for him to marry for the second time, Colin resolved to see it through. He knew he would never love Makenna. He doubted he would ever again risk his heart to any woman. No, he would not vow love, but he would promise his protection and by doing so, it would stretch to the whole Dunstan clan.

Now, as he looked down the small chapel pathway as Makenna walked slowly toward him, all of the morning’s doubts faded. Never before had he seen Makenna look so beautiful, soft, and feminine. She captivated him. She was not beautiful in a traditional sense like his wife or even his sister-in-laws, but in a very powerful way all the same. Her athleticism had given her a firm, thin frame and command over her movements. And though he never recognized it before, Makenna was incredibly graceful.

The colored light from the stained glass windows caught the rich highlights of her upswept hair. The small tiara made of hand-painted golden beads intermixed with blue and green gems completed the look. Normally hidden behind layers of red curls, the delicate nape of Makenna’s neck was now visible, revealing a soft, vulnerable curve begging to be repeatedly kissed. The dark gown complemented Makenna’s fiery features and highlighted the pale flawlessness of her skin. Unlike the typical V-necked bliauts of most women, Makenna wore an off-the-shoulder gown. Its cowl neck was adorned with gold embroidery that matched the stitching on the cuffs of her tight-fitting sleeves. A similarly embroidered band settled low on her hips, accentuating their swaying movement.

Dunlop fought to keep from staring. Makenna was stunning, mesmerizing everyone in the overly full chapel. He quickly scanned the crowd of interested onlookers. Though Colin and Makenna had only just agreed to Alexander’s demand for their union, the ceremony had been scheduled for almost a month. Neighboring lairds interested in seeing the vows or meeting the much-talked-about Colin McTiernay transformed the planned small ceremony into an event that would be talked about for months to come. One very interested visitor was Leon MacCuaig.

“Do you see MacCuaig, Colin?” Dunlop murmured.

“Aye,” Colin lied. He couldn’t take his eyes off Makenna, who looked to be growing more nervous with each step.

“I do not like how he is openly staring at your bride,” Dunlop said lowly through gritted teeth.

The comment got Colin’s attention. He searched for the young southern neighbor. The man was considered extremely good looking by the fairer sex and had a reputation for being deadly when fighting one-on-one with a sword.

Dunlop was correct. The man wore an intense expression of anger and possession. Colin’s eyes narrowed. He was about to order Drake to remove MacCuaig from the chapel when he heard Dunlop exhale a low “This can’t be good….”

Colin immediately transferred his attention back to Makenna, who had inexplicably halted halfway down the path. She was scanning the crowd, her eyes darting here and there, landing on no face longer than a fraction of a second. Then, unfathomably, she turned to him, as if she instinctively knew Colin could and would save her from this fated decision. Her green eyes were dark and large with terror. Colin had never seen Makenna look anything but confident; convinced she knew what she was doing. But every hesitant breath, each gulp she took, and the flickers of her tongue across her bottom lip, forecast what was about to happen. She was about to flee.

“Do not do or say anything,” Colin ordered his commanders without removing his eyes off Makenna. He took a step off the small raised platform and moved toward her. For reasons he could not explain or fathom, last night had forged a bond between them. A bond that transcended their confrontational relationship into something he didn’t yet comprehend, but it enabled him to understand exactly why Makenna stood frozen in terror.

Makenna watched as Colin advanced toward her. Moments ago, glancing side to side seeing the sea of faces, some familiar and some not, she could feel the pressure of all those present upon her. Her father needed a leader for their clan, her people expected her to run their castle, her neighbors questioned their alliances, but worst of all was Colin. He wanted a wife. A real wife in every sense of the word. In just a few steps, her ability to have any say in her life would be over. Panic filled her, causing her to stop, unable to flee in fear or find the courage to continue. Somehow, Colin understood, and he was coming to her rescue.

He stopped in front of her and fought an urge to stroke the softness of her cheek. Instead, he clutched the sword hooked to his belt and leaned closer so that only his lips touched her ear.

As he moved closer to whisper, Makenna had never felt so small, nor he so huge. Yet she didn’t feel fear, or even his normal arrogance. Just understanding. He came close and his breath on her cheek was warm and reassuring. “Makenna, I will make you a good husband, but I will understand and support your decision if you do not want to do this. I’ll never force you into something you don’t want to do.”

Makenna closed her eyes. The words were whispered low, only for her. An unexpected peace washed over her that she had not felt in a long time—perhaps ever. The rich tones of his baritone voice had rung with sincerity. Colin gave her a promise. It was not offered out of desperation or coercion, but from understanding.

He knew.

He knew how much freedom meant to her. How much she feared being caged, physically or spiritually. How terrified she was of being married.

Makenna raised her green eyes and watched his blue ones swirl with emotion. Colin had always seemed so remote, rigid, without emotion. Suddenly she knew his hardness was just a mask he wore. He, too, was filled with a myriad of questions, uncertainties, and doubts.

She wanted to tell him that she knew and understood his worries and his pains. That she understood that he was a strong, proud man who had been second all of his life. Second to his brother, the famed McTiernay laird. Second to her father. And now he had to live with his second choice in marriage.

He needed to be first to someone, somewhere. He needed to know that his needs, dreams, and desires were important, and suddenly Makenna realized they were…to her. Silently, she vowed, “I may not be your first choice for marriage, Colin McTiernay, but you are mine.”

Colin did not completely comprehend what had transpired between them in the few seconds they stood staring at each other in silence. Makenna, always so guarded in the presence of others, now stood unafraid, trusting him. She was a woman aching for passion and full of self-doubt. She needed a man not to tame her as Dunlop suggested, but to reassure her and ignite the fires smoldering within. A man who could do that would be richly rewarded.

Makenna reached out her hand, and Colin clasped it in his. He turned and together they approached the altar and stepped up to make their vows. Colin heard his voice ring out solidly, without doubt and then it was Makenna’s turn. Her tone was softer, serene, and filled with sincerity.

Colin felt her slim, soft fingers unconsciously squeeze his, as if his nearness gave her a confidence that would otherwise not exist. Again he felt the surge of hope that with Makenna he would know a real marriage. Not an imprisonment as he earlier feared, but a second chance to find what he never did with Deirdre. It would not be what his parents had shared. He did not love Makenna, nor she him. But they had something. Passion, and now the beginnings of trust.

It was enough.

As soon as the ceremony ended, Colin was surrounded by interested parties who knew what such a marriage might mean. Feeling Colin’s hand slip away from hers, Makenna turned around and became engulfed as the crowd shuffled her outside for the breaking of bread.

Crumbs fell about her and the women immediately stooped to pick them up. She had stepped free of the semicrazed mob and felt the warm familiar fingers of her father close over her hand. He tugged gently, and she followed.

Alexander looked down at his youngest daughter with tears in his eyes. He had hoped that he had done the right thing by forcing this marriage. Colin and Makenna were so different, but so alike. Though neither had realized it, after Deirdre’s death, they had both retreated into themselves. It was only when they were verbally sparring with each other that they came alive. His clan needed this marriage, but he truly believed Colin and Makenna needed each other as well.

His fears had disappeared the moment Makenna trusted Colin to help her in the chapel. Their vows were not made under protest, but were heartfelt. At that moment, Alexander felt true hope for his daughter and his clan. He could let go now. He just needed to say good-bye.

Makenna smiled at him, and Alexander hooked her arm in his, leading her away from the chaos. “I’m glad you are no longer still angry with me, Áille.”

“How could I stay angry with you, Father? You are the only man I will ever love.”

He smiled at her innocence. “Ah, Makenna, you have so many changes ahead of you, but do not let your adventurous spirit be one of them.”

“Don’t worry, Father. I doubt I will be transformed into a dutiful, dull domesticate just by merely uttering the words.”

“No, I doubt that anything in this world is powerful to fully tame your wild nature.” Alexander maneuvered Makenna out of view to a private spot just inside the base of the rear tower. “But what I want you to understand is that marriage will change you, but it will be for the better. If you let him, Colin will not take away, but add to your life. Learn to lean upon him for the hard times. If you do, you will never be alone again.”

Makenna shook her head. “Father, you just don’t understand how it is between Colin and me. You have no idea what he has said and done over the past few years. He thinks I am wild—”

“You are wild,” Alexander responded, interrupting.

“—and impetuous. He thinks I care for no one but myself.”

“Then you must show him differently. I have seen more than you realize, Aille, and you and I both know that he has only seen one side to you. I know it has been hard these past two years, especially after losing Deirdre. I went through the same after your mother passed. You were young, but I know the feeling of abandonment and how it changes a person. It makes one very defiant, not wanting to rely on anyone or anything.”

“He has definitely seen my defiance,” Makenna replied, looking down as she twisted the ties to her bliaut.

Alexander put a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze. “Does he know of your loyalty? Does he understand your perseverance to perfect what you are determined to learn? Has he seen that you have a heart more full of compassion than anyone—aye, anyone—I have ever known?”

“I’m telling you he has known me for almost two years and doesn’t care about those things. Only you can see the good side of me.”

Alexander dropped his hand. “I was there in the chapel when fear overcame you. It was Colin, not I, that gave you the peace to continue.”

Makenna stared at the ground, remembering. “He made me a promise.”

“A promise?”

“To never make me do anything I didn’t want to.”

“Do you think he meant it?”

Makenna nodded, the movement barely detectable. “He meant it. Colin is arrogant and self-assured and loves to intimidate everyone near him. Probably why I enjoy showing him that he cannot with me. But he never does or says anything he doesn’t mean.”

“Do you trust him?”

Makenna rolled the question over in her mind, knowing the answer. Outside of her father, she trusted Colin more than any other man. With him, she might be aggravated, but she always knew where she stood. Yet she found it impossible to say as much aloud.

Makenna looked directly into her father’s green eyes and nodded. “I do.”

Alexander knew how difficult that had been to admit, but he knew Makenna was telling the truth. “Trust me, Áille, everything will be fine. Remember I love you, and I would never have asked you to commit yourself to Colin if I did not truly believe your life would be the better for it. He can make you happy…if you let him. And though you cannot imagine it to be true now, you have it within you to make Colin happy as well. Now, let us say good-bye before we go to the hall and the crowd takes you away from me.”

Makenna hugged her father tightly and felt him return the firm embrace. She wondered if there was anyone who could ever make her feel as safe and as loved as he did.

Alexander held on to his youngest and most beloved daughter, knowing that this would be the last time. He could finally let go. She was safe. She was Colin’s now, and he would protect her. In doing so, the young Highlander would discover that he had received the greatest treasure a father could give, someone to love and be loved by.

“When?” Colin asked, only paying half attention to the discussion. Laird Crawford had joined him a few minutes ago, and based on the direction of their conversation, the Lowland laird intended to ally himself with Colin.

“Perhaps a week or two, maybe longer,” a friendly, but solid voice replied. “My boys have talent but they need a firm hand, one away from the accolades of their mother. God bless her soul, she is the one person I cannot say no to. Any other man and I’d have been able to stop the nonsense hindering those two. I’ve seen your men, and how you train them. If you aren’t too busy being a new groom, it would be a great relief and honor if you would agree to train my sons and a few of their friends.”

Colin nodded in agreement. His real focus was across the room. Makenna. Just a few hours ago, they had said their vows, and instead of being distraught and angry, she appeared content and untroubled, even happily married.

He mulled over the idea. Was Makenna happily married? Did she consider him to be a good man?

Yesterday when he had unilaterally made the decision they should marry, he had not cared about her feelings for him. It mattered not if she considered him decent, trustworthy, or even honorable. He knew he was and that was all that mattered—then. Now, seeing Makenna relaxed, and happy, talking with Crawford’s wife, he wanted her to be just as comfortable when she was with him.

Jaimie Crawford watched the large Highlander stare questioningly at his new wife. When he had met Colin two days ago, he witnessed the loyalty Colin generated from his men and the reasons why. Calm, steady, and self-assured, this commander would not only teach his sons how to wield a claymore with accuracy, but he would give them the wisdom needed to lead the Crawford army when Jaimie passed. Colin was a rare leader of men, possessing talent to guide and teach as well as command. But, watching him tonight, Jaimie wondered if Colin knew what it meant to be a good husband.

Laird Crawford was not tall, but wide and strong from hours in the training fields and the occasional good-natured fight. And since Colin was even bigger, it never occurred to him not to ram his elbow into the Highland giant to get his attention.

Shocked by the unexpected attack, Colin moved swiftly only to be stopped by the biggest grin he had ever seen.

“Now, hold on there, Highlander,” Crawford cautioned with a chuckle. “You cannot be telling me I hurt you, for that would be an untruth. And how else is a man to get your attention when you’re forever looking at your bride over there? I’ve been wondering why you aren’t with her, and I’ve come to the conclusion that you are just like me on my wedding night. Now, I knew Trista was for me the first time I saw her. She had all that brown hair and the merriest hazel eyes a man could ever want. So I asked her to marry me. I needed someone to take care of my keep, provide heirs, and keep my bed warm at night. But, in truth, I also wanted a friend. Probably won’t shock you, but I love a good laugh, and my lively woman can keep a man laughing. It’s nice to know that in my old age, there’ll be someone at my side I’ll enjoy being with. Now, I tell you this, because you look just as I did before my wedding night.”

Colin waited patiently for Crawford to end his intentional pause and finally gave in. “And that was?”

Crawford smiled and slapped Colin on the back. “Now, in trade for your willingness to train my sons, I’m going to give you something more valuable than gold. Your bride, she reminds me of my Trista, bubbling with delight, enchanting all that see her. But she wasn’t always thus.”

“No?” Colin inquired, only slightly curious as to where the burly laird was going, for it was obvious he had a destination with this story.

“No, I’m ashamed to say. It wasn’t until a few months into our marriage that it occurred to me I had only been focusing on what I wanted, needed, and liked in a wife. I never once had considered her desires in a husband.”

Crawford downed a big swig of ale, and Colin sank into a nearby chair, stretching his feet in front of him. Colin assumed the man was done. “I thank you, but I am not sure how that piece of information is so golden or how it applies to me.”

“Because…” Jaime waited until Colin cranked his head to look the Highlander straight in the eye. He was about to call Colin a fool and decided otherwise. A friendly punch to the ribs he could get away with, but assaulting the Highlander’s pride? He would be leaving on his arse regardless of his title.

Crawford took another swig of ale. “It turns out that my Trista wanted the same thing I did. A friend to laugh and grow old with, to raise a family, and live a good life.” Jaimie took a deep breath and exhaled for effect. “I’m just wondering why you married Makenna. We all know Alexander’s reasons for wanting the union, but beyond that, what hopes do you have? What do you want? I’m guessing that whatever it is, Makenna desires the same. Give her that, and you’ll be a happy man every night—even on the nights you fight. And though it may not seem like much now, if you heed my words, you will come to see their extraordinary worth. Now, I think it’s time that I dance with my wife,” Jaimie finished, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as he jigged over to a laughing and eager Trista.

Colin watched as the hefty laird swung his wife around and thought on his counsel. No one had ever really talked to him that way before. Especially someone who knew very little about him. People usually came to Colin for advice, and never did anyone have the nerve to give him unsolicited suggestions about anything. Most assumed that because Colin was previously married, he knew all about the subject. How did Crawford discern the truth? And did the older laird know what he was talking about?

For years, Colin wondered why his parents’ marriage had worked so well. Was this the secret? If so, then what did he want in a marriage? With Deirdre, he had wanted someone to love who loved him. But he soon learned that it was not quite enough. They had love, but never once did they approach the closeness his mother and father had shared.

What, then, was the part of marriage that made the soul happy? What did he truly want?

And the answer struck him so deep down that Colin almost fell out of his chair. He wanted someone to trust and believe in him completely and without reservation. But, more than that, he wanted to be first in someone’s heart, body, and soul.

Could Makenna truly want the same? Did Makenna need someone who trusted and believed in her? Someone who placed her first above all others?

Colin knew a trust was growing between him and his new bride, and though he had never said so, he did believe in her. If Makenna decided to make something happen—or not happen—she persisted until she found a way.

But how could he make her first when he had already given Deirdre his heart?

Pretending to concentrate on the dancing and the music, Makenna peripherally watched as Colin approached her. She had been intensely aware of him all evening. If it had not been for Lady Crawford to anchor her thoughts and divert her attentions, she would be shaking so bad all would know of her fear and anxiety of what was to come.

Colin stopped in front of her and stuck out his hand. “Shall we join Laird Crawford and his wife and show them how the estampie is truly to be performed?”

Makenna sat shocked for a moment and then gave him a large smile that would have warmed anyone who was the recipient of it. Colin was glad to have been both its cause and its receiver. “Do you know how to do the estampie?” she asked, taking his hand. “I don’t think I have ever seen you dance.”

It was true. He had never danced with Deirdre. She had been too weary to perform the lively dances he preferred. “There is a lot about me you don’t know, Makenna,” he said, swinging her onto the floor. They quickly joined the crowd stomping their feet to the wailing music created by an assortment of skilled musicians.

Soon Makenna lost herself in the rhythm of the dance. The music shifted and the room seemed to get louder as more and more men joined in and swords appeared on the floor. Makenna jumped into the crowd beside a grinning Trista and clapped loudly as she watched Colin’s skill unfold. Very few practiced the form of dance Colin, Crawford, and a handful of other men were exhibiting. The dance was both celebratory and highly athletic as they jumped over swords and spiked shields with great accuracy and speed. Each time the tune repeated, the musicians would increase the tempo.

One time while sparring with Gorten, she had asked him how he had learned to be so quick on his feet. He had told her that it was hours of performing the sword dance. Colin made them all learn and practice the complex maneuvers. She had supposed Gorten to be teasing her, but now she realized he had been in earnest. The quick, intricate weaving in and out of the war dance would not only help develop a soldier’s stamina, but it could build and test one’s strength, accuracy, and agility.

The music continued to build and by now any man capable of performing the Gillie Chalium was on the floor. The room reverberated with stomping feet and shouts of triumph. Trista cried out to her husband, encouraging him in his desperate attempt to keep up with those around him. He was bested, and he knew it, but like many who had joined in, he did not care.

Makenna’s smile grew even wider. An odd sense of pride surged through her, knowing that the man with the most superior skill was grinning back at her. The musicians finally ended the tune and began another. It was slower but still had a lively beat and Colin deftly glided over to entice Makenna back onto the floor. Others followed Colin’s lead, and the crowded great hall became even more so as the room shook with laughter and the stamping of feet.

Alexander’s green eyes were filled with peace as he watched the couple from the now almost empty table. All would be well. Makenna and Colin were both stubborn and prideful, but their passion and honor would see them through. And if they continued to lower their defenses, they might even find the rarest thing this world had to offer—love. The special love one discovers only with one’s soul mate.

Colin had loved Deirdre and she him, but their love and marriage had been based on need and protection. Makenna would meet Colin as an equal. She would be able to share his burden, protect him in ways he never knew he needed, and he would do the same for her in return.

Alexander wished he could live long enough to witness this transformation, but it was not meant to be. The squeezing pains in his chest had been growing all afternoon. It was painful to breathe, and now the burning sensation in his upper abdomen was spreading to his arm, neck, and jaw.

His eyes roamed to his other daughters. Edna could not be here, but he knew that she had found happiness at the abbey. Ula and Rona would have to adjust somehow, for Colin would not be as susceptible to their ploys as he always had been.

Most everyone was on the floor. All except one. Alexander stole a glance to the man who had chosen to remain seated at the table.

Leon MacCuaig.

The young man had physically matured over the past few years. With light brown hair and deep-set black eyes in a rugged face, he was undeniably handsome. He was also pitiable.

Alexander had tried to guide the young laird after his father had died, but Leon enjoyed commanding others versus listening. He had grown to be a callous leader, ruling by fear rather than trust. Sitting quietly for most of the afternoon, he had not fooled Alexander or Colin for a moment. MacCuaig had remained at Lochlen to discover which and how many Lowland lairds would ally themselves with the Dunstans once a Highlander was in charge. Colin wanted to observe MacCuaig’s reactions and agreed to let him stay.

Alexander gripped the arm of the chair and stood. He fought the dizziness and ordered his body to comply with one last command. He would walk to his chambers without assistance. Scottish pride demanded no less.

Chapter Three

Leon drummed his fingers idly against the wood table, oblivious of Alexander Dunstan’s look of pity or his disappearance. His attention was solely on the Highlander flaunting his obvious attraction for the woman that should have been his wife. Blatant hatred filled him as he stared at the merry couple, and he cared little who saw it.

Today, Makenna Dunstan had unmasked her beauty to all. And though many had been surprised by her physical transformation, Leon had not been one of them. He had known for years what a unique and striking woman she was. That alone should have entitled him to her hand and not the arrogant Highlander.

Leon clenched his jaw as another Dunstan soldier called out. With each story praising Colin’s leadership and skills, Leon loathed the Highlander a little more. For two years, he had been hearing about McTiernay and the fictitious tales that surrounded him. No one could be that good at discovering raw talent.

Twice, Leon tried to plant one of his own men within Colin’s ranks to uncover the truth behind the Highlander’s methods. Both times, the soldiers had disappeared, forcing Leon to rethink how he was going to outwit Colin McTiernay.

His next idea had been simple. Leon had never encountered anyone who could best him one-on-one with a sword. He would goad McTiernay until his pride demanded revenge, and then strip the Highlander of not only his arrogance, but also his life.

But before he could put his plan into effect, the news came.

The Highland creature was to marry Makenna Dunstan, the woman everyone knew Leon had claimed to be his. Leon had worked for too long toward a union between him and the red-haired beauty. So much had been overcome to be stripped away so easily by the hands of an outsider.

MacCuaig watched as the couple moved more slowly. The sexual tension between the two was palpable even halfway across the room. Leon clasped the quaich in front of him and tried to keep from shaking with rage.

That was supposed to be him.

He was the young, good-looking, powerful, Lowland laird. All women wanted him, desired him. They begged for chances to be near him. “Soon Makenna will as well,” Leon promised himself.

McTiernay might think he had won, but he would soon learn differently. The clueless Highlander was ill prepared for his future. Leon MacCuaig settled back in the deep chair and forced himself to appear relaxed. Colin’s army might be loyal, but they were few in number. Not nearly enough to stop Leon from taking everything McTiernay possessed.

“I shall pluck them from your fingertips, one by one. First the clan, then the castle, and finally…Makenna,” he swore quietly to himself before downing the rest of his mead.

Colin whipped Makenna around in his arms, once again mesmerized by her beauty. Two years he had lived at Lochlen and never once had he heard Makenna laugh as she was doing tonight. Only once had Deirdre acquiesced to a big festival in the castle the winter before she died. They had celebrated Twelfth Night, the last day of the Epiphany. It had been a joyous evening for the clansmen, but Makenna and Colin had elected to watch rather than participate.

Deirdre was recovering from a bad cold she had been fighting for several months and didn’t want any type of activity. She had only agreed to the festival because of Makenna, who knew how much the clan needed the release a celebratory gathering would bring. Makenna, in turn, had stayed by Deirdre’s side tending to her needs so the lady’s maids could participate in the festivities.

Looking at Makenna now, twirling with an easiness that made her eyes sparkle and dance in delight, Colin realized that he had not been Deirdre’s only willing captive—Makenna had been ensnared as well. She had placed her life on hold and had put Deirdre’s happiness ahead of her own. Not until tonight did Colin grasp how unfair it had been to the lively beauty.

Colin felt Makenna sashay by him to the beat of the pipes and then back again. He inhaled deeply. Instantly he was reminded of the previous night and the last time he had enjoyed the fresh clean scent of her skin and hair. Makenna moved toward him and out again, making innocent contact. The brief touches were driving him mad. Each time her small, firm breasts grazed his lower chest, Colin fought his need to gather her in his arms and march out of the hall uncaring of what the guests and his men would say.

Makenna drank in the feeling of being with Colin. She loved to dance, and Colin was an artist on the floor. Like everything else he did, Colin moved effortlessly to the rhythm regardless of its speed. He would bring her in and spin her with an intoxicating level of control.

When the men had thrown down their swords, Colin’s face had alit with a delight she had not known him capable to possess. At first, she had watched the intricate quick movements of his feet with awe and admiration. Then he had laughed aloud, revealing two dimples as his face split into an infectious grin.

Makenna had seen him smile many times in the past, but until tonight, she could not recall it reaching his eyes.

Colin swung her about, pulling her closer each time. Her pulse raced and she knew Colin’s did as well. No one would discern it by looking at him. Outwardly, he appeared happy and relaxed, but Makenna felt the growing tautness of his frame.

And she knew why.

Last night had not been a random incident of bizarre need erupting out of charged emotions. The desire to touch him and be touched by him was drowning out all other thoughts. She looked up into his bold blue eyes. They held a clear and unmistakable message. I want you. I will have you. I will know you as no one ever has. It was both intoxicating and terrifying at the same time. Makenna broke away from the dance.

Colin watched Makenna practically run to the table under the pretense of needing a drink. Only for a moment did he consider joining her. The instant deep attraction between them was inexplicably strong. Colin had struggled most of the night searching in vain for any reason that would rationalize his deep ache to carry her to his bed and make her his.

Colin’s eyes roamed the hall and saw the empty chair Alexander had been sitting in. He also noticed the looks of heavy admiration several of his men were giving his new wife.

His nails bit into flesh as his fingers clenched into a fist. Something primitive and all-consuming roared through his veins. He was jealous. Never did he dream he could be jealous of anyone, especially over the wildest of the Dunstan daughters. But, seeing the open looks of desire for Makenna, thoughts about the circumstances causing their marriage vanished. She was his—or would be soon. And with every passing hour, it was getting harder to quash the rush of sexual anticipation stirring within him.

Father Lanaghly saw Colin’s narrowing eyes and walked over to prevent the impending eruption. Unlike his excitable brother, Conor, Colin usually was in full control of his emotions. Tonight, however, if someone did not divert his attention and quickly, it would be Colin initiating the mayhem. “Ahem, I believe Laird Dunstan has retired for the evening. I saw him rise, nod approvingly at you, and your lovely new wife, and then leave.”

Colin blinked at the interruption before comprehending what Father Lanaghly was talking about. “Did Alexander have assistance?” Colin inquired quietly.

Although Alexander had hidden it well, the old laird had been in severe pain for most of the night. More than once Colin had wanted to suggest that he retire, but each time he resisted the temptation. Laird Dunstan had earned the right to keep his pride, especially among his allies.

Father Lanaghly pointed to two empty chairs in front of the smaller hearth nestled near the less crowded end of the great hall. “As he left, no. However, Alexander was moving somewhat slow so I followed him to the inner yard in which I saw two men go to his aide when he thought no one was looking.”

Colin visibly relaxed. “Alexander should have retired long before he did. Events such as these are hard on him these days. He should have rested more.”

“Laird Dunstan is a wise man. His hours are numbered, and he wanted to spend them assuring himself of his daughter’s well-being, his clan’s future, and even your happiness.”

Makenna observed through lowered lashes Father Lanaghly directing Colin to a chair. That was the closest she had ever seen Colin appear to be subservient to anyone. She placed her cup back on the table and casually sauntered over to the stone wall. Curiosity ate at her and she slowly edged her way toward the small hearth, stopping only when she came into earshot.

“You should not have journeyed so far, Father, but I will admit it is good to see someone from home.” Colin sighed.

“Aye, I’m sure it is. I was privileged to marry your brother….”

“What a surprise that was,” Colin retorted as he stretched back in the chair, recalling his eldest brother’s earnest declaration to never marry. When news arrived that Conor had taken a wife, Colin had not believed the herald. He could not imagine his brother married, and most especially to someone half English. The summer following the news he had traveled to see them expecting anything but what he had found.

Love. True love. The kind he had so desperately wanted with Deirdre, but never had.

Father Lanaghly lightly elbowed the large man he had known since he was a small boy. “Indeed, but what a good match Conor has made. I’m just as honored to have married you this time. And if the good Lord agrees, I shall be the one to see all you McTiernays joined with fine women.”

“Keep praying, Father. You may eventually have a chance with Craig and Clyde, but Cole, Crevan, and especially Conan are unlikely to pin themselves down.”

“Nay, I do not think so. Cole reminds me of you. He needs a woman of fire and substance, and needs to stop looking at the meek ones.”

“What—” Colin tried to interrupt and get clarification, but Father Lanaghly just continued.

“Now, I know why you added Crevan to your list of permanent bachelors. At times, his speech can be slow, but he is a fine man and someday a smart woman will see what lies beyond his inability to speak quickly. And what a lucky woman she will be.”

Father Lanaghly paused and linked his fingers together. Colin waited for him to explain how the contrary Conan was marriage material. Becoming impatient, Colin pressed, “And Conan?”

Father Lanaghly wrinkled his nose and then let out a sigh. “Conan will get married.”

“You don’t sound as convinced as you do with the others.”

“In truth, I’m not. The man is far too intelligent, and he is most intolerant of anyone, especially women, who cannot match wits with him. The only one he dares not tangle with is Laurel. But that is not his biggest impediment to his finding a wife,” Father Lanaghly revealed.

“And that is?” Colin prodded.

The priest shrugged his shoulders and let go a long sigh. “Your brother has no interest in one. And unlike yourself and Conor, his declaration seems quite heartfelt.”

“Conan always was the smartest of us.”

“There is still time. He is fifteen years of age now. It took Conor until he was thirty to find Laurel. I’m sure someone will capture Conan’s attention. Just as Laurel did Conor’s, and Makenna did with you.”

Makenna stretched herself to hear Colin’s response. She dared not lean any farther lest she lose her balance and fall.

Colin chuckled. “Ah, Father. I will spare you the details, but this marriage is not one of love.”

“But your wife is lovely, and she has such life. Rarely does one see such sparkling energy from a young woman who has endured such sorrows.”

“Makenna is all that.”

“But she does not have your heart.”

Colin shook his head. “I gave my heart to my first wife. I fear God did not make a woman who could claim my soul. At least not how my mother claimed my father’s.”

“That is not so, son. You just need time to learn that for yourself.”

Colin was saved from responding. Dunlop and Drake were motioning for him to join a table of neighboring lairds that had convened near the main hearth. Now that Alexander had retired, alliance discussions were commencing. Colin knew that no declarations would be made tonight. These conversations were only to discern how Colin intended to lead the Dunstan clan after Alexander passed away.

Watching Colin retreat to the other side of the room, Makenna moved to a nearby wooden screen, trying to mask the emotional warfare waging inside her. She did not love Colin, nor he her. But what about her sister?

Makenna glanced behind the partition for any servants preparing food on the hidden table. There were none. She stepped behind the vertical planks, glad to be hidden from the crowd. Leaning against the small table, Makenna considered her sister’s marriage.

Makenna could not remember seeing Colin and Deirdre engaged in one affectionate embrace. She had supposed it was because Colin was so reserved. Tonight he had proven otherwise. His normally stoic expression had been replaced with one much more relaxed, even happy when he was dancing. And then, to Father Lanaghly, he admitted that while he loved her sister, Deirdre had not claimed his soul.

Makenna rubbed her temples. Why did she care if Colin and Deirdre had not been deeply in love? “Because, Makenna, this is your greatest fear,” she answered aloud. “Not only are you afraid that God did not make a man who could claim your heart, but that if he did, your chance of finding him is forever lost since you married Colin.”

But she knew, even as she whispered the words, that her deepest fear was something far more terrifying. Colin would be the one to claim her soul…but she would never be able to claim his.

Makenna closed her eyes and gathered the strength to reenter the great hall. Just before she exited, two female voices came through the slats, stopping her cold.

“I cannot believe she did it,” commented a higher-pitched voice full of astonishment.

“Aye, neither can I,” replied a voice Makenna instantly recognized. The woman had married into the Dunstan clan and had been a troublemaker even before her husband had passed away. Lela constantly sought ways to rouse ire and angst in her fellow clansmen. Find a conflict and Lela Fraser was the probable instigator of it. Why people tolerated—and worse, listened to—her evil spirit, Makenna never could understand.

“Betraying her people to a Highlander. She should be ashamed. I cannot believe she will be the next lady of our clan,” Lela added, baiting a response. When one didn’t readily follow, she tried again. “Not only does she disgrace us with her inability to run Lochlen, but to force that…that heathen upon us is unforgivable. He might have been able to fool poor Deirdre and our laird, but the man is crazed if he thinks we will let an outsider tell us what to do.”

The other woman clucked in agreement. “Never wanted his kind. I could forgive Deirdre. She didn’t know what she was doing when she was deceived by his trickery. But Makenna…”

“Never doubt that she knew precisely what would happen,” Lela concluded with satisfaction.

Unable to listen to any more, Makenna whipped round the wood partition. “And just what was I doing, Lela Fraser?” she demanded, loud enough to grab the attention of everyone in the hall. Makenna ignored the stares and locked gazes with the poisonous woman. Lela’s almond-shaped black eyes were set deep and matched the midnight color of her waist-length hair. With a perfect figure and flawless complexion, Lela was a woman who used her beauty to gain power and influence however she could.

Lela raised a single eyebrow, pretending to be undaunted by Makenna’s intentional reference to her own Highland background. Born a Fraser, Lela had been raised in the Grampian Highlands, and only met her husband by pure chance when he was in Aberdeen selling Dunstan hides and wool. Lela had thought him to be a rich merchant and maneuvered him quickly into marriage, never dreaming that he was really a farmer.

“What has stalled your vicious tongue?” Makenna asked, crossing her arms in a gesture of superiority. “Or did you forget that you, too, are a Highlander by birth and married a Dunstan Lowlander?”

“I may be a Highlander by birth, but I am a Lowlander by choice,” Lela countered, rallying. “You cannot hold me responsible for where I was born, but I can and do hold you responsible for stripping away the last specks of our freedom. Your husband was leaving until you became a willing participant in this farce.”

Makenna looked at the woman to Lela’s left, who had joined the mocking and criticism. She was shocked to see it was someone she had once considered a friend. “And you, Joanna? Are you of like mind?”

Joanna narrowed her hazel eyes and nodded, refusing to cower in front of the crowd.

Makenna turned to the now very quiet and divided room. On one side stood the soldiers, and on the other was a small cluster of Dunstans. “And all of you? You, who eat in my father’s castle, partake in his food and wine. Do you feel I have married foolishly? That I cost you your freedom? Can none of you see that I did it for you? Do you not realize how vulnerable we are and only one man can train our few men to defend us against attack?”

Lela sniggered. “We see him,” she huffed, jutting her chin toward Colin, who was quietly sitting and watching the argument from across the room. “And when we do, all we can see is the reason our backs ache each night with his order to finish an unneeded wall.”

“Unneeded?” Makenna gasped. “How can you say that? The English have barely departed our lands and even now there are rumbles that Edward II is plotting his revenge to retake our homes and property.”

Lela would not back down. “You cannot scare us into supporting you. We know better. The Dunstan land is not strategic. We hold no great value. The English care nothing for us.”

Makenna gaped at the recklessness of Lela’s words. “You are foolish, Lela, and so are all who believe your nonsense.”

The soldiers vacated a small path as Makenna headed straight toward Colin. “Say something. Explain. They need to know. They need to understand how much you have done to save them, that without your leadership this clan is doomed.”

Often Colin had been tempted to do just what Makenna had asked and announce his worth, but he knew it would be a fruitless struggle that would gain him no loyalty. He needed to remain patient and think long-term. With a strong guard, he would be able to take and keep the position of laird of the clan, but it might be a long while before he would truly be a leader to these stubborn people.

Colin downed the last of the ale and considered the Lowland lairds waiting silently for him to speak. In one smooth movement, he rose from his chair and announced, “I believe, fellow Scots, that for me and my wife the party has just ended.”

Pivoting, he swept a very astonished Makenna into his arms and exited the great hall.

Chapter Four

Colin ignored Makenna’s impassioned pleas to put her down and continued his march across the inner yard. Anticipation filled him, but in ways he had not expected. The yearning consuming him since their vows had been enormous. He had forced himself to endure dinner and conversations when his primary thoughts centered on his wife, their bed, and the pleasures they would soon find in each other’s arms. Tonight, Makenna would discover passion, and maybe, so would he.

Makenna suddenly felt Colin pivot and watched the distance begin to increase between her and her room in Forfar Tower. She began to struggle earnestly. She had assumed he was going to take her back to her room, drop her on the bed, reprimand her for a minute or two, and then return to the hall. She had been wrong. He was not heading toward her chambers…but to his.

The Black Tower was aptly named. Its unique onyx-colored stones formed the massive round anchor situated along the eastern wall between the Canmore and Pinnacle towers. Colin lived there alone.

Stopping his ascent on the third floor, Colin maneuvered down the narrow hallway until he came to a large arched door. He turned and pressed his back against the thick wooden planks until it gave under the pressure. Once inside the private bedchamber, Colin lowered Makenna until her feet rested on the soft rug extending across the room.

The dying embers in the hearth provided just enough light to illuminate the spacious area. Makenna guessed that even if the fire was ablaze, the dark walls would absorb the extra light and the chamber would still feel protected and set apart. Unlike the routine noise associated with the elite chambers of the towers where she and her father lived, Colin’s room felt like a quiet enclave about which no one knew. She knew her sister had felt isolated in the silence, but Makenna enjoyed the peace it gave.

She walked over to the nearest of the three plain armchairs facing the fireplace and clutched its back while trying to look casually about the room. Before Colin, the steward had resided in these walls. Once, as a child she had tried sneaking into the tower but had been found and escorted back out.

Until tonight, she had only heard descriptions of the cavernous rooms the Black Tower held. Deirdre had visited only once and vowed never to enter the obsidian structure again. She claimed the dark stone walls were cold and menacing. Even her father said it lacked the cheeriness he preferred.

Makenna could understand their comments, but she did not agree with them. The room was not threatening. Instead, it was surprisingly warm, even welcoming. A woolen McTiernay plaid covered the four-poster bed. A simple table to its right held an unlit candle. Nestled underneath two of the room’s four large windows was a long, sturdy bench with silk stuffed pillows at each end. The understated tapestry hanging above the bed was not ornate enough to be one of Deirdre’s creations. The picture of a young Scotsman standing by a river offering his heart to a shy maiden evoked an atmosphere of tenderness, and hope, and vulnerability. It was not what she had expected to find adorning Colin’s walls.

But even more surprising was the lack of anything feminine. Makenna could see not a single remnant of Colin’s relationship with her sister. She silently wondered if there had ever been anything of Deirdre’s to remove.

Besides the hearth chairs, the only other item in the room was a beautifully carved chest situated along the far wall. Instead of the slab legs of the typical six-board chest, the sizeable hutch had an elongated front and back and its stiles extended to the floor to make four legs. She didn’t recognize the piece and it did not resemble the furniture in the rest of the room. “Colin, is that chest yours?”

Still standing by the door, Colin glanced at the chest his grandfather had made him when he was a young boy. That and his mother’s tapestry were the two treasures he had brought with him from his childhood home, McTiernay Castle. “Aye,” he replied.

Makenna moved closer to the unusual trunk and knelt down to finger the carving etched into its face. “Is this the McTiernay crest?” she asked. “It’s beautiful.”

“Aye. The eagle represents strength. It clutches a branch of our Highland mountain ash. Those drops you see off the talons are blood.”

“Of your enemies?”

“Our comrades. To remember the fallen.”

Makenna nodded in silence hearing him voice the McTiernay pledge. It was not a mere saying to him, but a true belief. Despite their squabbles, she knew Colin would never forget a single man he ever fought alongside. He would ensure that their deaths had meaning and purpose.

Makenna rose and gracefully waved her arm in front of her. “Your room is very similar to my own with the exception of your tapestry. It is captivating. I’ve never seen one that portrayed such a pure emotion before. If I were ever to weave, I would want to design a motif such as that,” Makenna ended quietly, unaware that she had voiced her inner thoughts aloud.

Colin exhaled slowly. He was surprised to be relieved by her approval. Deirdre had always made it clear that he was to come to her chambers if he desired her company. Consequently, he had never cared if his room appealed to anyone else. He had not realized how much of himself was exposed in this simple sanctum.

A renewed surge of desire swept over Colin. He picked up a log from the stack of dried kindling he had replenished that morning and threw it into the hearth. Long after the fire sprang anew, he continued to stoke it, knowing that if he did not keep his eyes and hands occupied, his control would snap.

Makenna watched as Colin stabbed the burning logs, sensing his palpable frustration. The dying fire was just another example of her clan’s refusal to support and honor an outsider. If he were a Lowlander and welcomed, all candles would have been lit, the bed turned, and the fire would have been blazing with warmth.

Not knowing what to say to counter such a display of disrespect, Makenna walked over and lightly touched Colin’s forearm, marveling at the strength and tension held within the sinewy muscles.

At her touch, Colin flinched, but when Makenna tried to remove her hand, he instinctively reached out and kept it in place. If asked, he would not be able to explain why he wanted to prolong the gentle sensation. He had reacted without thought. Her unexpected gesture was soft, warm, and so very giving. For the second time that day, he felt as if she understood and believed in him.

Makenna stood by his side for a long while and stared at the flickering flames, mystified at her desire to remain with Colin. But it was time to leave. Their ruse should now be complete. Everyone who witnessed their notable exit would trust they had consummated their marriage by now. Makenna released her light hold and headed toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Colin asked, his voice low and curious.

Makenna stopped and turned toward him. “I think it is safe to leave for my room now. I don’t hear any movement outside. Don’t worry, if anyone can roam about this castle unseen, it is I.”

“Of that, I know all too well,” Colin scoffed.

“Don’t sound so churlish. Tonight my skills are going to benefit your deception. No one will be the wiser we spent the night alone.”

“My benefit?” he asked, turning to look at her.

Makenna nodded. “Aye, yours, and mine, too, if you want to be particular. What does it matter?”

In three quick strides, Colin blocked her path, physically challenging any method she might try in order to exit. “Makenna, do not pretend with me that you do not recall what I said to you last night.”

Makenna did remember. He had vowed their marriage would be real and not in name only. But never did she dream Colin would make good on his promise so soon. Certainly not tonight. Why, just yesterday they had each vehemently sworn the other to be the last person in the world they would want to spend time with, let alone marry.

But then he had kissed her.

It was amazing how a single embrace could change one’s view so dramatically, but it had. Not only had it proved they were compatible physically, but that each held an innate understanding of the other’s most private needs and fears. Still, Makenna could not accept that Colin intended to make good on his promise this very evening.

“But…but this is our wedding night!” she squeaked, not realizing how ridiculous the words sounded.

“Aye, and I have been thinking about you all day,” Colin replied.

“About me?” Her voice was barely a whisper and laced with doubt.

He pushed back a lock of red hair that had become loose from its comb. “Aye, you. Every man in the hall was thinking of you…and they were wishing they were me.”

Makenna blinked. Colin made her sound as if she were some siren able to induce men into desiring her. The concept was unreal. “Colin, be serious….”

“Oh, but I am, Makenna.” Her name was a soft growl as he bent his head to capture her lips with his own. He kissed her slowly, lingeringly, and with a deep, tender possessiveness.

Makenna shivered as a mysterious liquid warmth began to grow inside her. All doubts about whether she had imagined the intensity and pleasure of his touch were erased. For this, she had changed the fate of her life.

Makenna felt Colin strain against an unknown force as he moaned softly and drew her closer to him. The kiss differed from their last, but was no less powerful. Instead of hard and demanding, it was gentle and persuasive. She could feel his tongue move across her bottom lip, teasing it open. She complied, welcoming him.

It was a dream come true. To be touched and kissed and made to feel so very feminine. She didn’t think feelings and cravings like the ones coursing through her veins were even possible until Colin had proved otherwise. He had shown her that she was capable of feeling desire, physical need, and passion. That she was not devoid of such emotions, but burning with them when he held her in his arms.

Colin parted her lips and tenderly explored her mouth with his tongue. Her body was in chaos. Makenna fought the instinct to wrap her arms round his neck and return the intimate caress. She almost lost the battle.

Almost.

With Colin, she was experiencing every dream she had ever wanted from a man. All except one. To be truly desired. No matter how good Colin made her feel now, it would not match the pain of discovering that she was just a surrogate, a live manifestation of what he once had. At the altar, she had thought passion would be enough. And it might be, if he needed her and not a substitute for Deirdre.

The second his lips touched hers, Colin knew Makenna wanted him. Her response was too pure, too genuine. Full of longing and innocence, it was more intoxicating than the strongest of ales. If she knew the intensity of his desire to touch and intimately know every inch of her body, she would be terrified. He forced himself to slow down and keep the kiss gentle, exploring the softness of her lips.

He inhaled her sweet scent of wildflowers. Never would he be able to ride through the fields again without thinking of her. He moved to deepen the kiss and immediately sensed a change. Makenna did not pull away, but a tautness filled her that wasn’t there before.

Instantly Colin withdrew. Deirdre had never responded to his kisses the way Makenna had last night. Deirdre had pretended to enjoy them, but deep down he had always known it was toleration—not pleasure—she endured in his arms. Had he needed it to be different with Makenna so badly that he imagined her response?

Colin cupped Makenna’s face and peered into green eyes swirling with doubt and emotion. His fears were immediately assuaged. Despite all their arguments and clashes over her unusual inclinations, he understood her and why she retreated. She was afraid—not of what he might do—but what he thought her to be. She feared being compared.

Colin closed his eyes but didn’t let her go. His new bride had no way of knowing that whenever he touched her, spoke with her, kissed her, the last thing he thought of was his dead wife. It would be impossible to mistake the wild passionate creature in his arms for Deirdre.

Makenna watched him close his eyes and hoped in silence that he would release her and let her leave, but seconds later his deep blue eyes reopened and looked at her. He was not remembering his past. Colin was completely in the present, and his sole thoughts were about her. His gaze conveyed such glittering need Makenna felt herself tremble just before he leaned down and recaptured her lips with so much tenderness it seared her senses. She heard a moan escape, and knew it was her own body betraying her. Unable to fight the passionate assault any longer, her fingers clenched his shoulders as she leaned into him, kissing him with a hunger that belied her fears.

Colin felt a calm invade the deep place that had grown tense with apprehension. No longer was Makenna fighting their connection, their physical attraction. She wanted him, and she was admitting it with her actions.

His lips trailed a line of kisses to her ear and whispered, “I will never hurt you, Makenna, but I won’t deny that I want you. Very much. And I believe you want me, too.”

Before she could respond, Colin pulled her body fully against his and kissed her mouth hungrily, thrusting his tongue deep into her velvet warmth. An elemental, dangerous sexual desire was building within him. Never before had his physical need for a woman been so raw and powerful. His power to control it was fading rapidly.

Makenna moaned as he crushed her lips beneath his. The full force of his own hunger broke over her. She returned the kiss with sweet fervor. The inexplicable need to touch him, taste him everywhere was growing to irrepressible levels.

Their first kiss by the loch revealed a need and a connection neither had realized existed. Tonight’s initial embrace had been one of gentle persuasion and soft exploration. This, however, was completely different.

It was two souls, full of feverish desire, which had been deprived of fulfillment for far too long. The result was more intoxicating, more demanding, and far more blatantly erotic.

A sense of urgency was growing beyond her understanding. Passion once buried deep inside her now roared wild and hot through her veins. Makenna instinctively pressed herself against Colin, seeking release from the unknown tension suffusing her body.

Colin was burning with desire. Makenna’s unconstrained response ignited a fire within him that had been dormant too long. He was so hard he hurt, and his imagination was going wild, thinking of all the things he’d like to do to her. When she moved closer, he held her, letting her feel the long, hard length of his arousal.

Immediately Makenna became aware of Colin’s physical need. She learned enough about mating from her sisters, but never did she dream a man could be so very hard, nor so large. The rigidity of his body completely contrasted the featherlight caresses of his fingers igniting a liquid fire in her veins. She waited for fear to rise and compel her to end the spell he was casting, but it never came. Instead, more than anything, she wanted to be with him, touch him, and know him in every way imaginable.

Makenna’s small sighs and light shivers made Colin momentarily lose his composure. A considerable shudder of need racked him as a raging hunger challenged his defenses. He knew his size and strength frightened women. It had terrified Deirdre. He wouldn’t, he vowed silently to himself, lose control and frighten his virgin wife away.

He released her lips and plucked the combs from her hair. Burying his face in the loose red curls, he reveled in the thick silky mass finally free of its constraints. His lips paused to nibble on the soft crevices of her neck before trailing to the base of her throat and below. His hand curved around her spine where the low back of her gown offered access to her silken skin. Slowly he unthreaded the ties to the bliaut until it gave way and slid onto the floor.

“So soft, so sweet.” He heard himself moan his thoughts aloud. “God, I need you, Makenna. I want you like I’ve wanted no other woman,” he purred against her ear.

Her mouth finally free, Makenna asked, “Colin, what’s happening? I don’t know what’s wrong with me. My body feels to be on fire, and yet I crave more.”

Colin cupped her cheek, his control almost shattered by her innocently whispered words. “Nothing’s wrong. Nothing has ever been more right. God, Makenna, don’t leave me. Please don’t tell me to go,” he begged, uttering his fears aloud.

His eyes met hers, and Makenna knew she never would. “Not now, not ever.”

The simple vow was heartfelt and real. Makenna meant every word. And suddenly his future seemed a lot less lonely. This strong-willed woman would no doubt argue and fight with him to their graves, but she wouldn’t ignore him. With Makenna, he would never be alone again.

The knowledge released a surge of need Colin could no longer suppress. He yanked impatiently at his clothing and then, before she became aware of his nude state, he pulled her back into his embrace and drank hungrily from her lips.

Makenna clutched at him, savoring the feel of his warm skin against her palms. Each kiss was deeper and more stirring than the last. She was barely aware of Colin removing the last of her clothing.

Last night seeing her naked from a distance, Colin had been tortured to know what it would be like to feel such wild beauty in his arms. Now that he was actually touching her, she was even more magnificent than he had imagined.

Unable to wait any longer, Colin scooped Makenna up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Settling her against the pillows, he lowered himself until he covered her body with his own.

“Makenna.” He paused, waiting until her eyes focused on his. “Never wonder whom I am thinking of when we are together. For it will always be you. I know who I am with, and I make love to you because I want and desire you, not merely because you are my wife and I can. Trust me. Coupling is only fulfilling if each of us crave the other. If you tell me you do not want this, I will cease and let you return to your room. No one will be the wiser.”

Makenna stared into his very blue eyes. His desire was unmistakable. The control he was exerting right now was tremendous and at the same time comforting. He was huge, but he would never hurt her physically. The danger of lying with Colin was the emotional havoc he could inflict on her heart. For two years, he had been at Lochlen and not once did she long for him as a man. Then yesterday all that changed. She was unprepared to be this attracted to him. It was more than just physical. And that’s what made it so terrifying.

Nevertheless, she would not leave. If only for tonight, she would know what it was like to be loved, to be held in a man’s arms, and made to feel complete. They didn’t love each other, but they had something rare and maybe more important.

“I don’t know why, Colin, or even how, but I trust you like no other. When you kiss me, I feel alive in ways I cannot explain. I’m both terrified and eager at the same time. More than anything, I want you to experience these same sensations. Teach me how to be a wife, Colin. I need you to want me,” she finished, her voice filled with quiet desperation.

Colin squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to weep and laugh and cry out with joy. He reopened his eyes and lightly caressed her cheek with his knuckles. “I already do, Makenna McTiernay. I never expected to need anyone ever again. I have been empty for so long. God, Makenna, you make me realize what I have been searching for.” Cradling her face in his hands, he closed his mouth over hers. Slowly he devoured her lips as if he could consume the essence of her vibrant spirit.

The sheer kiss was overwhelming. It nearly choked her, but instead of release, Makenna sought more. Her fingers bit into the hard contours of Colin’s muscled back as her body begged for something, but she knew not what. Makenna knew only that Colin was the sole man who could give it to her.

Colin felt her back arch and her hips shift back and forth against his thighs. The movement caused his already aroused body to tighten even more with fierce, compelling need. He had to slow down and prepare her, for he had no doubt that he would be Makenna’s first lover. He wanted the experience to be perfect. Never would his young bride look outside their marriage for physical release.

He held her hips still and finished ravishing her mouth before moving to reexplore her neck. Nothing had ever been this good, this perfect. Everything about her was so right. Her eagerness only intensified his pleasure. Each caress, response, whimper she uttered made him feel whole, like a complete man. It began last night. They had sparred, but the verbal exchange had revealed something quite unexpected, an understanding that she was just as empty and alone as he. Never would she feel that way again.

Colin transferred his weight to his side, giving his fingers access to her soft round breasts. His mouth explored the contours of her shoulders as he cupped her pert little mounds and began to rub his callused thumbs against the hardened nipples. Makenna gasped, and Colin felt the shiver that went through her as if it had gone through himself.

“God, Makenna, how I need you. Just let me touch you, taste you.” And then his mouth covered her breast, his tongue felt like hot velvet against her skin.

Her breath quickened as his teeth lightly tantalized her taut nipple. He suckled, teasing it, making her squirm with want of him while his free hand moved over her abdomen and then lower. Lightly his fingers stroked the smooth flesh of her inner thigh. He was making her frantic. So many sensations were coursing through her veins it was akin to pain. “Colin, it’s too much!” Makenna cried out, inwardly hoping that he would refuse to stop.

“Aye, bean cheile, it is, but trust me,” he answered as he turned his attention to the other breast.

He felt one of her hands slip down to his thigh and sink her fingers into his hard, muscled buttock. Colin caught his breath, his whole body incredibly tight and heavy with barely controlled need. All instincts urged him to surge forward and drive himself into her.

Makenna felt his manhood, hard and impatient against her thigh. The sensation triggered a heavy pulling in her lower body. She clung tightly to him, wanting so very much for his hand to touch the place throbbing with enormous need. She could feel the rapid staccato rhythm of Colin’s heartbeat and knew that his need matched her own.

“Please, Colin, please,” she begged for what she knew not.

Colin’s mouth reclaimed hers as he drew his fingers through the gathering dew between her legs. Never had he known the glory of making a woman react so completely to him. He was so hard he feared he might burst, but her lusty moans and hesitant caresses were food for the soul. He needed more.

He played with the soft hairs of her apex, reveling in her honest reaction. He slowly introduced his finger between the velvety folds. Only when she arched her hips inviting him to know more did he invade the sweet, vulnerable warmth. She cried out, and Colin steadied her writhing body. His tongue mimicked his finger as he gradually eased it into the tight, hot channel. She was so wet and ready he couldn’t wait to lose himself in her.

“My God, Makenna,” Colin groaned, knowing his control was about to snap. He slid one leg between hers, making more room to slide another finger in and back out of the snug passage. He explored her with exquisite care, finding all the secret, hidden places, and made them tingle with need. And with each touch, each discovery, his own need grew in return.

Incredibly, Makenna wanted even more of him inside her, deeper, and lifted her hips against his hand. Her fingers splayed against his chest and then moved lower to touch him as intimately as he was touching her. Finding his flesh, her hand cradled his sex. She held him tight, moving the velvety skin up and down over the inner, rock-hard shaft.

Colin had hoped to bring her to climax before he took her for the first time. He wished for her to know the thrill of explosion before the pain of knowing a man. But the second she touched him he knew he could wait no longer.

His hands shook as he lifted her slightly and parted her legs to settle between them. He looked down at the fiery passion kindled in her beautiful green eyes. Her gorgeous red hair fanned the white pillow. She was beautiful. And she was all his. Never before had he felt so incredibly lucky.

Slowly he forged inside, letting her stretch to accommodate his size. She was so incredibly hot. And all for him.

Makenna shifted, encouraging him to go faster. The movement gave him so much pleasure it nearly ended the matter right then and there. Makenna moved again, and Colin plunged deep, sinking recklessly, hungrily into the snug channel of her body.

Makenna gasped and then cried out when the sharp pain of his entry shot through her body. For a moment, she thought he was too big, that she was too small, and the pain was too much to continue. Then almost as fast, it faded and the longing for something more swelled within her.

Colin’s heart stopped cold at her cry. The tear flowing down her cheek tore him in two. He bent down to kiss it away and started to move out of the slice of heaven he had only just found. “I’m sorry, Makenna. I’m so sorry. I swore never to hurt you—”

“And you didn’t,” Makenna interjected, holding him, refusing to let him leave her completely. “Make love to me, Colin. Please, don’t stop.”

That was all he needed to hear. Colin gently reburied himself in the warm softness of her. Heaven had not forsaken him. It was right here. Never could he explain the comfort of knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Easing himself in and out of her wet passage, he urged her into a passionate rhythm.

Makenna arched as he moved inside her, her inner muscles clinging to him, drawing him deeper within her. She knew that her tears were causing him to be slow and gentle. In an effort to hasten the pace, she opened her thighs wider, forcing his male member to sink even deeper inside her with each stroke.

Colin had tried to control the depth and speed of his thrusts. His jaw was locked with the effort, his muscles straining. But she refused to let him be gentle, meeting each thrust with one of her own. Suddenly his control broke and he drove hard and deep, his hips echoing the earthy movement of hers.

He had been with women before, he had loved Deirdre, but nothing he had experienced prepared him for the powerful force building within, becoming more fervent, more intense as they strained together. His breath changed to short gasps.

Makenna felt him deep within her and discovered the connection of two souls suffused together through their bodies. With a soft, choked exclamation, she surrendered to the tumultuous storm of sensation sweeping over her. The world had erupted into an array of dazzling stars. Nothing could have prepared her for the emotions associated with such rapture.

A second later, she felt Colin’s hands pull her buttocks to him with a powerful strength that only added to her ascent. She heard him call her name, and then a heavy shudder racked him as his body surged to climax. A final triumphant exclamation escaped Colin’s lips as he sagged against her. He had been torn apart and put back together again, this time whole and complete.

Makenna felt her body float back to earth and held on tightly to the one solid thing in her universe. Colin was hers, she thought happily. For this moment in time, he belonged only to her just as she belonged to him. Tomorrow would come and remind them both of ghosts and current responsibilities, but tonight he was hers.

Colin rested silently and tried to catch his breath. For years, he had heard men talking about their women or wives. And during those long weeks when they were forced to be away from their loved ones, he had never understood their talk of anticipation and need.

Even Conor had alluded to such bedroom pleasures, unwittingly chiding him saying that it was a shame only two of the McTiernay men knew the unequaled satisfaction of a wedding night. Pride had kept him from divulging that he and Deirdre had slept separately on theirs. The few times they had shared a bed, it had not possessed any of the magic he had just shared with Makenna.

Makenna. The wildest and most aggravating of the Dunstans.

He should be shocked for feeling this way about a woman who enjoyed arguing with him publicly, defied his orders, and actively looked for ways to infuriate him. At a minimum, he should feel guilty for finding such pleasure from a woman he didn’t love when he couldn’t find it with the one he had. He searched for the feelings of betrayal but found none. Only gratitude for the precious gift Makenna had given him. A surprisingly beautiful and spirited gift he hoped to be worthy of receiving.

Colin rolled to his side, and Makenna sucked in her breath, preparing herself to be told to leave. Instead, he pulled his plaid over them both and drew her into his arms. Makenna exhaled and snuggled closer, treasuring being the object of his strength and security. She felt a lock of her hair being brushed aside and looked up into blue eyes shimmering with the intensity of a passing storm. His lips were so close to hers she could feel his breath on her upper lip.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

Makenna suddenly felt like an awkward little girl again, unknowing what to do or say in the company of a man. “I thought you considered me aggravating,” she countered, hoping that levity would ease her discomfort.

Colin shifted so he could hold her gaze steady with his own. He could see her fear, but knew that he had the power to make it go away. “Aye, you are impetuous, stubborn, and indeed aggravating. But you are also very beautiful and incredibly alluring.”

Makenna never thought anyone would find her beautiful, and certainly not alluring. Colin thinking her both made her a little uneasy. She was about to make another jest when he laid a finger lightly across her lips. “I cannot explain what just happened between us, Makenna. But it was incredibly unique and special.”

Then something primitive and utterly feminine deep inside her stirred under the impact of his possessive gaze. His eyes burrowed into her deepest subconscious. I know you, they said. I know you as no one ever has. And I want you. She reached up and buried her fingers in his dark hair to pull his mouth down to hers. You have me, she answered.

She closed her eyes as his teeth suckled her bottom lip and willingly parted her lips beneath his gentle, persuasive mouth. How could she ever have thought his mouth hard and without feeling?

Makenna had ridden him with the passion she applied to anything she loved—fierce, wild, and free. He needed to show her the beauty and enjoyment of slowing down the experience. To savor the precious moments of pleasure. He was going to teach her about life, and she would teach him about living. Tonight was only the beginning.

Colin moved his tongue across her lips. They were still warm and full from when he had ravaged them earlier. He knew he would never get enough of their taste. She trembled and moaned, urging for more. He smiled and played with her bottom lip before releasing it to scatter light kisses over cheek and forehead. This time, he would take his time with their lovemaking. He would craft a slow, sensual dance, and Makenna would learn how much fun it could be to ride slow.

Chapter Five

Makenna stirred and flipped onto her back, feeling incredibly relaxed and happy. Life with Colin was not going to be the miserable one she had feared, but an exciting and blissful adventure. Finally, all was right with the world.

Sitting up, Makenna stretched her arms high and realized she was alone. The sun coming in from the window was bright, indicating she had slept in. She gathered her knees close and hugged them tightly to her. She wondered how late in the morning it was when Colin had left. He must have moved very quietly to have kept from rousing her. “Understandable, you were incredibly tired,” she said, defending her unusual fatigue with a smile on her face.

She remained seated, motionless for several moments enjoying the peace. Her family was probably looking all over for her. It was past time to rise and meet them. She knew she would be unable to hide her joy, especially from her father. As soon as he saw her, he would begin congratulating himself on his prophetic knowledge. This time she would allow him such pleasure. Compared to the gift she had received last night, it was very little in return.

Stepping onto the wood-planked floor, Makenna saw the evidence of her virginity on the bed. Throwing the blanket to cover the stains, she walked over and washed herself with the small basin of water on the table aside the bed. Turning to get dressed, Makenna remembered she had nothing but her wedding dress to put on.

She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not like anyone will be surprised after Colin’s show of hauling me away.” She sighed.

Donning the chemise, Makenna considered calling for a chambermaid to fetch her new clothes when a knock came at the door.

“Thank the Lord,” Makenna mumbled to herself. Then a sudden thought of terror came to her. It might be a soldier looking for Colin. “Who is it?” she called out, hoping a woman’s voice would answer and not a man’s.

“It’s Ula, Makenna.”

Makenna grabbed her bliaut and tried to tie it quickly, but it was not cooperating. Of all people, why would Ula be coming to see her? “Obviously, it’s later than you think, amhlair,” Makenna said to herself.

“That better not have been me you were calling stupid,” Ula hissed through the door. “Let me in.”

“I’m coming. I’m sorry, but I was not prepared for visitors,” Makenna called out, rushing across the room to open the heavy door. “Including family, Ula. It was my wedding night.” She couldn’t help but add the snide sound to her voice as she faced her older sister.

Ula, however, seemed unaffected. She was preoccupied with twisting her hands. Tears stained her cheeks. Something was wrong. Did she and her husband have a fight?

Makenna clutched her sister’s fingers in her own and asked, “Ula, whatever is the matter? Where is Rona?”

Ula took the offered chair and stared down at her hands. Her shoulders began to shake and large teardrops fell onto her lap as sobs took over the woman.

Moving beside her, Makenna knelt down and gathered Ula’s weeping frame into her arms, wondering what could have saddened her hard-edged sister to such a degree.

“All will be well, Ula. I promise.”

“No,” Ula replied, pulling back, shaking her head. “No, nothing will be well again.”

“Have you told Father? You know our great laird would do anything for one of his daughters,” Makenna said, trying to evoke a sense of hope and cheerfulness in her tone. It did not work.

Ula straightened her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed with hatred. “Our great laird is no more. The almighty Highlander now orders us Dunstans about.”

Makenna stilled. “Father?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“He is no longer with us.” Ula stood. Anger consumed her once again. “He passed sometime this morning.”

“Does Colin know?” Makenna’s voice was suddenly hollow and foreign to her own ears.

“Aye, it was he who found him and alerted the staff. My chambermaid informed Rona and me, but when we rushed to his side, it was too late. Your husband then ordered me here.”

Suddenly, Ula softened and approached Makenna. “Oh, little sister, how wrong I was to partake in yesterday’s atrocity. Rona and I should have convinced Father that it was a mistake for you to marry the horrid giant. Whatever are you to do? Finding you here in his chambers, and seeing your hair so untidy…I suspect it is too late to annul your marriage. The Dunstans are doomed,” she wailed, flinging herself back into the chair.

Makenna felt her jaw clench as Ula’s statement penetrated the stunned state of her mind. A sudden urge to slap her sister washed over her. Her sister did not grieve for her father, nor for the Dunstans; she grieved for her own future. The woman no longer lived at Lochlen, but every time she and Rona visited, they pressured their father for funds to support a standard of living neither of their husbands could afford. Ula’s husband, Uilleam, was too greedy, and Rona’s was too inept. Ula obviously knew Colin would not be so generous with the Dunstan fortune.

“Our clan will survive. My husband is now laird, just as our father wished it. It is our responsibility to respect Father’s good judgment and support Colin’s leadership so that we will prosper and be strong once again.”

Ula sat up defiantly. “You can say that even though he told no one of Father’s death? I was told by a servant, and here I am trying to spare you the same insult. Good judgment, you say? Poor husband is my reply.”

Makenna didn’t know why Colin had delayed notifying her, but she knew there had to be a reason. A reason she would understand once he explained. “I must go. Will you be all right?”

“You really don’t know what you have done by marrying him, do you? What sentence you have cast onto Rona and me?”

One of moderation, perhaps? Makenna thought to herself as she rushed out the door.

She flew across the courtyard and up the Canmore Tower steps. Along the passageway to her father’s room were several soldiers standing in stoic silence. She pushed past them and entered the cavernous solar. Her father was lying unnaturally still in his bed. Colin sat next to him on a cross-frame chair clutching the man’s hand as if he were alive.

Makenna approached the bed hoping Ula had been wrong. The stillness in her father’s face revealed the truth. Her champion lived no longer.

A void threatened to consume her. Her father had been her last supporting figure. He had loved her completely, never ridiculing her unorthodox passions and unusual habits. He had never admonished her lack of domestic skills, instead encouraging her whenever she had made the attempt. Now he was gone, and Makenna felt her entire world had suddenly been swept away.

Colin waved his hand, and Dunlop escorted the few in the room out and closed the door. Why had such sorrow happened so soon? They were just learning to accept each other and what the other had to give. They had not yet built the trust needed to withstand such loss.

His hand let go of Alexander’s. His close friend had departed, and now Colin had to take his place. Colin knew Dunlop trusted him and would follow his lead, as did Drake and the rest of his men. He had an army, but no longer did he have his friend to question him, challenge his decisions, or just be a sounding board when needed. Alexander was gone.

Colin felt cool, soft fingertips clutch his own. It was a small gesture, but it said so much to him. He looked up. The grief etched on Makenna’s face pained him more than he thought possible. He gave a gentle tug and caught her as she collapsed into his arms sobbing.

For a long time, Colin cradled her as she wept. Sometimes hard and other times soft cries, but never did she let go. She needed him and right now he longed to be needed. I t reminded him that he wasn’t alone. That he wasn’t just desired for his skill with a sword, but that on a deeper level, he was connected to someone who needed him more than anyone else.

The storms of emotions came in what seemed to be never-ending waves. Her cries would ease just before she was sucked down into another spiral of grief. Through it all, Colin held her, never once rushing the process. Again, he had understood what she needed most and gave it to her without question or demands.

After some time, Makenna lifted her head from his chest. Colin cupped her damp cheek with his hand and used his thumb to brush away her tears. “He loved you, Makenna, so very much. Remember that.”

Makenna blinked and new tears fell. “I’ve heard you talk about your parents and how much you loved them. How did you learn to let go?”

“We each must do it in our own way and time. I’ll not tell you how to grieve, just know that you can with me. Alexander was a treasured friend I never expected to receive when I came to Lochlen. His loss will affect many.”

“The clan will want to know what to do next.”

“I will take care of everything, Makenna. You have had to endure much these past days by marrying me. I will not add to your burdens by making you prepare your own father’s funeral.”

Makenna furrowed her brow. Marrying Colin had not been a burden, just the opposite. “Colin, you are not—”

He quieted her with a soft kiss. Still keeping his lips tenderly against hers, he stood up and placed her feet gently on the floor. He released her and called out, “Dunlop!”

Instantly the door opened and Dunlop and Drake entered the solar room. “Laird?”

“Is Brodie or Gorten in the tower?”

“Aye.”

Seconds later Brodie’s head popped in, his usually jovial face now sad with grief.

Colin waved him in. “Brodie, escort Her Ladyship back to Forfar. Fetch someone to make her a bath. She will be eating in her chambers this evening. Her sisters may visit if Makenna wishes.”

Colin watched in silence as Makenna left. Just before she exited, she looked at him one last time. Tentative trust echoed in her shimmering green eyes.

Once she was gone, Colin turned to his commanders. “Dunlop, find Gorten and have him join Brodie. I want both guards standing watch over Makenna’s room. No one other than her sisters is allowed in. With so many guests still in the castle, someone might use this opportunity to influence my wife when she is most vulnerable. I’d better not learn of that happening.”

“Aye, Laird.”

It was the second time Dunlop had referred to him as laird. With Alexander’s body so close it felt odd and a little presumptuous. But he was laird now. And if he were to retain that title, Colin had to act like the Dunstan chieftain, beginning immediately.

“And, Dunlop, once you have finished with Gorten and Brodie, go find Father Lanaghly.”

Dunlop nodded and left.

Colin turned to Drake. “I want you to oversee Alexander’s preparations for burial. We will have the ceremony in three days. That should give all clansmen an opportunity to come and give their respects. If you have any questions, come to me. If you need something or someone, ask Ula or Rona. Do not, under any circumstances, seek Makenna for help. She has been through enough the past few days.”

Makenna stepped out of the tower. A large crowd of Dunstan clansmen filled the inner yard. Brodie leaned over and verified the tension she could see lining her people’s faces. “Word has spread of Alexander’s death. People are already questioning your husband’s right to be laird.”

Makenna nodded, letting him know she had heard his warning, but as soon as the thick crowd saw her they pounced. Brodie was pulling her through the mass, but everywhere she turned, there were questions. Who did she think she was marrying, an outsider and forcing him upon them as laird? Why could she not have married MacCuaig, a Lowlander who knew and respected their customs and ways? Did she regret her decision? Could she get an annulment?

No! she wanted to scream. She had no regrets, that she would never get an annulment, and that Colin held more respect for each and every Dunstan in his small finger than MacCuaig ever held for a single man, woman, or child of his own clan.

But she didn’t have to.

A piercing bellow blanketed the crowd. Caught off guard, they instinctively squashed their carping and listened. Colin’s deep baritone voice was laced with command and promise.

“I am now laird of this clan and claim Lochlen as my home. Alexander charged me with ensuring your safety and well-being and I intend to keep my promise to him. Any Dunstan who wishes to challenge me, let him come forward.”

The crowd squirmed with dissatisfaction, but no one moved to contest Colin publicly. Near the great hall, the faces of several neighboring lairds came into view. This was not how he had hoped to establish relations and alliances, but he had no choice. This was the way it had to be.

“My wife, Deirdre, wanted this to be,” Colin continued. “Alexander wanted this to be, and Makenna Dunstan married me so this would be. I am laird, and I will defend my rights as laird to any who oppose me. In return, I will regard any attack against the Dunstans—whether it be clan, army, or nation—as a personal strike against me.”

Makenna watched as Colin moved through the self-parting mass toward the great hall. No doubt he would be spending the next several days in conference. Many alliances would now be gone with the passing of her father. Some, like MacCuaig, would refuse to support a Highland leader.

A familiar voice rang out, this time aimed at Drake. “Drake, you are one of us. You should be laird, not an outsider.”

Drake halted his long, lean frame and glared at the old man, his ice-blue eyes unwavering and unsympathetic. “It is time to heal this clan, Gannon, and save it from itself. I cannot do that. I give my support and loyalty to the only one I know who can.”

Hearing Drake’s unswerving loyalty shook Makenna to her core. His voice was laced with the same devotion Colin had just used. My wife, Deirdre, he had said. Makenna Dunstan, he had said. The man had been kind to her, nothing more. Colin had what he wanted. He was now laird.

Makenna entered Forfar Tower in silent misery. The loss of two men was more than she could bear.

Makenna was rising from her bath when a knock on the door echoed in the chamber. Just as Colin had ordered, only her sisters had been allowed to visit. They had chosen not to.

She finished securing her gown and opened the door. It was Camus. Makenna shrieked and hugged her friend and mentor.

“Ah, laochag, this should be a time of joy and celebration for you. Instead, you must deal with your father’s passing. Laird Dunstan was a good and just man. He will be missed.”

Makenna wiped away a tear and pointed to one of the chairs by the hearth. Camus relaxed on the wide, padded teak stool and examined his friend. His little warrior was trying to be strong, but streaks of recent tears were evident on her face.

Makenna pasted on a fake smile and attempted light humor. “How did you ever get in? I thought Colin had barred the entire male species from my chambers.”

Camus recognized the effort at levity. “Ah, your husband may now be chief of this clan, but we have a history.”

“I saw the visiting lairds join Colin in the hall. Do you know how the talks were faring?”

He shook his head with genuine concern. “I don’t truly know, but if they are like the crowd outside, not well.”

Makenna got up and went to stand by the window. She pulled the tapestry aside and gazed at the great hall below. The crowd had diminished, but several clansmen were still standing about, obviously complaining. “My father would not be pleased to know his people were acting thus.”

“Aye, but his last thoughts were of you. He was happy last night knowing you and Colin were married. It gave him great peace.”

Makenna sighed. The time between last night and now seemed like an eternity. “I think he was. I’m glad he passed believing all was well.”

“Colin will need you now more than ever, just as you need him.”

Makenna shook her head. “Colin needed me to marry him. I’ve done that. I’ve even consummated the marriage ensuring that an annulment is not possible.”

“Makenna! You cannot truly believe that. Colin is a proud man. He would never use a woman so, just to be the Dunstan laird.”

Makenna looked up at the rafters on the ceiling. “He did. Truly. That is all he wanted. I was a means to an end. You heard him today. He still considers Deirdre his wife and me a Dunstan.”

When word had spread that Colin and Makenna had agreed to marry, Camus knew something had transpired between them. Something much greater than a need to protect a clan. Unfortunately, she and Colin were still trying to understand the nature of their new bond when Alexander died.

“I do recall what Colin said, and to whom he was talking. A crowd of Dunstans with fleeting memories who need to recall it was not you who first brought Colin into their lives, but Deirdre. He was trying to protect you. He has demanded that your sisters take on the responsibility of readying the ceremony. He knew the distress it would cause you, and he wished to shield you from further hurt. You misjudge him greatly, little warrior.”

“Are Rona and Ula complying with Colin’s request?”

“More like Colin’s demand, and they have no choice. Either they comply or leave. And both are still hoping to receive a stipend they feel owed to them.”

Makenna rubbed her arms. “Good Lord, their hatred of him must be limitless by now. Does the rest of the clan feel the same?”

“Aye, in some cases, but in others Colin is securing their trust. Already he has ordered soldiers to assist with the keep’s help. And when Drake brought Colin your father’s sword, he ordered it to be returned to your father’s side, claiming that he may be laird, but that did not entitle him to take what belonged to Alexander and the Dunstans.”

“He said that?”

“My oath. That sword is worth a mint with its gold and jeweled hilt.”

“It has been in my family for almost three centuries. Malcolm Canmore gave it to the first laird of Lochlen.”

“And your husband respects that.”

“But if Colin does not take the sword, who will?”

“Well, for a while your sisters squabbled over who had more right to it. Ula thought she did because she was older. Both came off incredibly greedy and selfish, diminishing the ill effects Colin had caused by ordering their aid with the funeral preparations.”

Makenna turned from the window and fell into the chair beside Camus. She gathered her feet underneath her and finally asked, “Who won? Ula or Rona?”

“Neither,” Camus said with satisfaction. “Colin declared it to be buried with Alexander.”

Makenna threw her head back and sighed in relief. She loved that sword and understood what it had meant to her father almost better than anyone—except Colin. “That is good. It is the way it should be.”

“Many think so. The decision definitely got the attention of most clansmen. Several of which are no longer open to hearing the constant cry for the new laird’s departure.”

“Good. Colin needs their support.”

“What he needs is your support.”

Makenna shook her head. “No, he has Dunlop and Drake.”

“It is not the same, and you know it. We have known each other a long time, laochag, and I love you like my own daughter. But when you needed someone, who was the first person you sought? Could I have been a suitable replacement?”

Makenna stared into the leaping flames flickering in the hearth and thought about his question. Camus was someone she trusted without any reservations. Could he have provided her the same feelings of safety and comfort Colin had given her last night and this morning? The answer was an undeniable no.

“You have Colin now,” Camus continued. “I know you find it impossible to lean upon anyone, and I know he is just as stubborn and independent as you. But if I can advise you one last time, learn to lean upon him and teach him to lean upon you. It will make you both stronger.”

Makenna blinked tears of sorrow. “I wish it were possible, but Colin wouldn’t even lean upon Deirdre, and he loved her. And while we have called a truce, Colin doesn’t love me. How can I be something he couldn’t find with the woman he wanted to share his life with?”

“You are not Deirdre,” Camus scolded. “Stop trying to be. Be yourself. That is the person Colin needs to know. I’ve known you both for a long time now. If you two tried hard enough, you would be surprised at what you would find.”

“Be careful, Camus, or I will think you are talking about love. And you know, just as well as I, that love is not what this marriage is based upon.”

“Not now, but it can be. Before you will be able to love anyone, laochag, you will have to remove all the walls you have built around your heart. It calls for immeasurable trust. It took me many years to trust my wife. I hope it does not take you and Colin so long.”

Makenna sat straight up and looked at him, her eyes wide with shock. “You were married?”

Since she had known him, Camus had been a bachelor who enjoyed being friendly with widows.

“Aye, a long time ago. She died before you were born.” He paused and gazed into the fire, remembering. “I met Miriam when I was young. She was bonnie and feisty and it was time that I married, so I did. We were much like you and Colin. She loved to argue and was fiercely independent. Each time I took it as an affront to my manhood. I never knew how much she meant to me until she became pregnant.”

“Camus! I never knew that you were a father.”

“We lost the baby, Makenna. No one knows why. For a long time the loss ate away at me. I was so focused on my own grief I didn’t realize my Miriam was hurting, too. One night she finally exploded, and it suddenly occurred to me that she needed me to tell her it was going to be all right, that we were going to be all right. We learned that night how much our strength came from each other. And whether you like it or not, Makenna, you and Colin are tied together now. He needs your strength. Once he knows that it will always be there for him, he will lean upon it. He won’t be able to stop himself.”

Makenna bit her bottom lip. Tears sprang anew. For the first time in hours, she felt hope again. Colin had been there for her—at the altar, last night, as well as this morning. Even now he protected her from possible cruelty while she adjusted to the idea of her father’s passing.

“I am so glad you came, Camus.”

“Then I’m glad to have been here for you, my little Dunstan warrior.”

Makenna rose and this time produced a genuine smile for her friend. “I’m Makenna McTiernay now, wife of Colin McTiernay, laird of the Lochlen Dunstans.”

Makenna awoke the next morning with a start. Something was wrong. She wasn’t where she was supposed to be. This was her room, but it felt wrong. Like something was missing. Then she remembered. Not something—someone was missing.

Colin.

She had only spent one night with him and already his bed felt more right to her than the chambers she had slept in all her life. She wondered whether Colin had been glad of her absence or if he, too, had missed her company.

Still groggy with a poor night’s sleep, Makenna found her wrap and put it on. She opened the door hoping to see a chambermaid outside waiting to attend her. Instead, two familiar faces stared back.

“Brodie! Gorten! Lord, what a burden I am to you. Have you been on watch all night?”

Both stared for a second. The light behind Makenna highlighted her loose hair hanging down around her shoulders and waist. Her pale skin made her green eyes pop with even more clarity and appeal. The guards blinked several times before responding. It was not good to find the laird’s wife attractive.

Gorten raked his ginger-colored hair, hoping the action would clear his mind. “We took turns. It was no bother.”

Brodie beamed a smile at her. “In fact we were grateful, milady. Forfar Tower is a far better place to sleep than the battlements.”

“Well, I promise you that I won’t give Colin a reason to send you back up here.”

Gorten could feel his jaw crack. “How did you know…never mind. Was there something you wanted, milady?” he asked, giving his counterpart a withering glance.

“Ah, aye…I mean no,” Makenna replied, looking around the empty hall. A chambermaid was nowhere in sight. Once again, the staff was declining to help her. Pride kept her from admitting the dejection she felt by her own people. Makenna knew if she uttered one complaint, either Brodie or Gorten would immediately go and drag back a servant. Help was wanted, but only if freely given. She would continue on her own.

“Just give me a few minutes, and then I will be ready,” Makenna said, closing the door.

Brodie refused to shrink under Gorten’s harsh stare. “You were staring, too, Gorten. Do not think I was not aware of your appreciative appraisal of Her Ladyship. You best figure a way to disguise your attraction.”

“Best you be taking your own advice,” Gorten returned. “And I wasn’t troubled by your obvious affection, but by Her Ladyship’s knowledge of our punishment. How did that come about?”

“She came up and caught me pacing Forfar’s battlements the night Colin raked us for being so easily duped by one of her tricks yet again.”

“You told her?”

“I told her nothing…at first. She surmised as much. She is as keen with her mind as you claim she is with a sword,” Brodie said, somewhat bridled.

“Aye, this is a mess. Part of me wishes never to have gotten this assignment. I’d rather face a hundred men in battle. The laird really cares for his new wife, more than he is willing to admit. And if anything should happen to her now, we will not live long, friend.”

“She will not make our task easy,” Brodie forewarned.

“Her Ladyship? Perhaps. She does have a way of yanking down your defenses and making you vulnerable to her wishes.”

“It is getting harder and harder to please both.”

Gorten shook his head. “No, what’s getting harder is the need to make Her Ladyship smile while keeping our oath to our laird.”

The door suddenly swung open, and Makenna stood ready to leave. “What oath?” she asked casually.

Gorten moved to block her path. “The one to keep you in your chambers and not allow visitors.”

“But that was just yesterday. I must go down and assist Colin.”

“He said until the funeral and that is at least another day, possibly two, away.”

“Two more days! I will not be locked away as a child for two days. I know I promised not to get you in trouble, but I’ll just have to beg for your forgiveness when I find a way to get out.”

“Milady, the laird doesn’t see you as a child—” Gorten began.

“No, quite the opposite. Of all the people right now, you are most important to him,” Brodie finished.

Gorten nodded. “It is true. Said so himself this morning when he checked in on you.”

“He was here?” Makenna frowned.

Gorten nodded. “Aye, for almost half an hour he stayed with you while you slept. The man is most concerned for you.”

“I felt him there. After he left, I suddenly felt cold, empty,” Makenna whispered, not realizing that she was talking aloud.

Brodie elbowed Gorten. “You see, milady? Staying in your chambers is not punishment, but a gift.”

“Aye, a gift,” Makenna acknowledged bitterly. “But a gift that I do not want or intend to take.”

“Now, milady, the laird wants you to be able to grieve in peace. He wants to protect your privacy.”

“It is a kind gift, as you put it, Gorten. Yesterday, it was needed. Today, however, it is not. My father’s death will weigh upon me for some time. Shall I lock myself away from duties and responsibilities until I no longer feel like crying?” Her eyes locked on to Brodie’s before moving to Gorten’s. Both men began shifting their weight uncomfortably. “I thought not. Now, if you will tell me where Colin is, I’ll explain this to him myself.”

Brodie swallowed heavily. “He rode toward the training fields when he left this morning.”

“The training fields?” Makenna barely kept her voice from shrieking. “The man would pick the one place I pledged not to go. How dare he use my own oath against me!”

“I don’t think it was intentional, milady. He needed to see the men. Tell them personally what was happening and give them assurance about leading the Dunstans.”

Makenna bit the inside of her cheek. She really must learn not to voice her thoughts out loud. She reached out and seized Gorten’s arm. “Of course, you are right. But I cannot just stay in my room all day. I have to be active. You can understand that, can you not?”

Brodie saw Gorten fight his reaction to her touch and quickly answered for his friend. “We do, but until the laird says otherwise, you must stay here. As soon as he returns, one of us will fetch him.”

Makenna’s shoulders slumped in resignation. Even if she did escape, she had no idea what she would do. Ula and Rona would order her about, and in truth, she had no desire to prepare her father’s funeral. She needed to remember him the way he was the last time she saw him. At her wedding reception, happy and at peace.

Silently, she turned and reentered her chambers. The only way she could help her clan and Colin was to remain out of the way. But just as she pushed the door closed, a thought occurred to her. There was something she could do for her clan as well as Colin. And it could be done in the secrecy of her chambers.

She swung the door open and grabbed Brodie’s hand in hers, gaining Gorten’s attention as well.

As soon as they saw her emerald pools beseeching their help, they knew they were doomed for a lifetime of night watches. For whatever Makenna was about to ask for, they were going to go through heaven and hell to ensure that she received it.

“Please, if you would do me one favor, I will stay in my chambers until my father’s funeral without trickery.”

Gorten and Brodie looked at each other and then back at her. “What is it, milady?”

“I want to prepare my father’s sword personally. I will be the one to polish it and wrap it in a Dunstan plaid and place it in his coffin. All I ask is for you to fetch it for me and stop anyone who might try and reclaim it before I am done. Will you?”

“Colin has ordered several guards to protect Alexander until he is laid in the ground. It might be difficult…” Gorten began. The truth was Colin put several men around Alexander’s chamber to protect the sword that so many were clambering to possess.

Brodie cleared his throat. “I will bring you the sword, milady. However, it might be best to tell no one of its whereabouts except Colin.”

“If you think that best, Brodie, then I will agree and hide it when anyone comes to call. But I need that sword. It will be my way of saying good-bye. Colin will understand.”

Gorten nodded in agreement. Colin would do anything for his new wife. He knew that after this morning. If retrieving the sword would make Makenna happy, then it would be hers. He didn’t know how Brodie planned to do it, but Makenna would hold her father’s sword by nightfall.

For two days, Makenna remained in her room working vigilantly on the most precious of Dunstan symbols. Once done, she polished the blade until it glittered without a single blight to hamper its reflection. Carefully she wrapped the hilt in a strip of Dunstan plaid.

Soon it would be time. Father Lanaghly was even now praying over the body of her father. Each time she had looked out the window, she could see activity in preparation for the feast to follow. If she had not been so focused on getting the sword done in time, she would have gone mad needing to go down and help. Each time she felt the urge to escape, she reminded herself that despite her desire to be otherwise, she would just be in the way. She knew nothing about preparing for such events.

Makenna smoothed back her rich velvet green bliaut and checked the Luckenbooth pin securing the pleats of her plaid. Both were symbols of her marriage to a McTiernay. Her clan would probably be upset by the gesture, but she knew her father would be proud of the support she was showing for her husband. The Dunstan plaid would be displayed with the sword.

She moved toward the window and looked outside hoping to see Colin come for her. She had not seen him once these past two days, but knew that he visited her in the early morning hours before anyone was awake. It was only when he left her side that she awakened, each time to a feeling of something missing.

Many times, Makenna had wanted to ask Brodie or Gorten to go and fetch him, to bring him to her if only for a few minutes, but she always refrained. Colin was busy. There was much to be done with so many at the castle, and this was not the time to indulge in personal, unnecessary wishes.

Colin leaped off his mount and gave the reins to the stable master. He had been gone longer than anticipated. With all his commanders assigned to more pressing tasks, Colin had left two promising junior commanders in charge of the training fields. Until this morning, they had maintained order. Then a talented but very young soldier decided a new recruit was being instructed incorrectly. The junior commander’s pride kicked in and soon complete mayhem erupted as men took sides as to how their laird would have trained the newcomer.

As soon as Colin arrived at the scene, he quickly deduced the true cause behind the havoc. The men’s nerves had been so taut with tension, the fight had been inevitable. He had seen similar outbreaks happen before a long-awaited battle. If men didn’t discharge their pent-up energy in a controlled manner, it exploded in unexpected and often unruly ways.

“Battle drills. Two hours on. Quarter hour off. From now until dark. Again tomorrow and the next day,” Colin ordered.

Drake’s eyes popped open. That was a physical challenge most of the men might not be able to meet. “For whom?” Drake inquired, hoping that Colin just meant the few men at the core of the disturbance.

“Every last soldier in my regiment. Including those in the hills. Drake, you take command now. Dunlop, it will be your turn tomorrow. I want you both practicing with the men.”

Drake knew better than to protest. Colin had been in a silent, hard mood for the past two days. Talks with the local lairds had stalled. MacCuaig had demanded promises limiting Colin’s ability to lead and protect the clan. While the other lairds understood Colin’s quiet refusal, they could not comprehend why he did not call the young laird out on any of his many attempts to insult him. The lack of response was akin to cowardice, and many had said so. Colin simply shrugged at such remarks and asked, “How many battles have you fought the past five years?”

They answered with silence. All knew Colin had fought and led more battles than practically all of them together. In addition, William Wallace had considered him a friend and Robert the Bruce publicly called him an ally. It was hard to blend the calm man who casually dismissed insults with the fierce warrior his reputation alleged him to be.