Page 5 of To Claim His Highland Bride

Rowena jumped down from her perch on the rock and turned, setting her hands on her hips and glaring with frustration at her family. “Why must all of you treat me as if I am a bird in a cage? As if I’m some fragile thing that needs protection all the time?”

“Because you do not listen,” Tormod replied with a stern expression. “You are hot-headed and take far too many risks when it comes to your safety.”

She looked to Alastair, hoping he would defend her, but he simply shrugged and said nothing.

“I am not fragile, or have you forgotten when I fought in battle alongside your own wives? I held my own then, as I could do out here should someone creep out of the shadows.”

“Fiona was wearing magical armour created by the fairies when she fought beside you in those battles,” Alastair reminded her. “Without its protection, would the three of you have fared as well?”

“Aria and Isolde were there as well, and of the five of us, only one had armour,” Rowena said. “We defeated the English and none of us were taken hostage or even injured.”

Tormod’s brows came together. “You were captured by the MacDonalds in a different battle weeks earlier, or have you forgotten that?”

Rowena scowled. “How could I forget with you reminding me every chance you get?”

“I only point it out to help you remember you are but a woman, Rowena. Not a warrior like Isolde, our brother Orrick’s wife.” Tormod’s lips tightened. “Or like the half-fae Aria, our . . . great-aunt? Sister?” He shook his head. “I have no idea what she is to us other than family, but you know what I mean.”

She asks us to think of her as a sister, the Grey Lady offered, trying to ease the tension she could no doubt see building between her own children.

“I might not be a warrior like Isolde or Aria, but I can take care of myself.” Rowena fisted her hands. Why must they always interfere in her life? “I’ve proven that I can handle myself when I assisted in protecting both Gwendolyn and Fiona. Or am I only allowed to be strong and independent when it comes to saving your wives?”

“Sister.” Alastair slipped from the rock and came towards her. “None of us want anything except your safety. We are not questioning you or your abilities.”

Rowena’s brows shot up. “That is exactly what you are doing.” She stepped back, avoiding the hand that reached for hers.

Rowena, dearest, your brothers are only trying to help. Her mother drifted towards her, arms extended, as though intending to comfort her, before the Grey Lady stopped, remembering she could do nothing of the sort with her ghostly arms.

Rowena felt tears scald the back of her throat. None of them understood her. Perhaps they never would. She held the tears in check as her gaze shifted between her mother and brothers. “Why can’t all of you just leave me alone?” Digging her hands into her skirts and lifting them above her ankles, Rowena turned and stomped back towards the castle.

She was angry with them, but also with herself. For in the past few moments, the thought that perhaps they were right had pierced her anger. Were they right? Not about her abilities to keep herself safe, but about waiting for Marcus to return. Was she wasting her life for a man who had left with only the promise that he loved her? She and Marcus had made no serious commitment to each other before he’d left. If Marcus had been so intent on marrying her, why had he not proposed, or asked for Alastair to agree to a betrothal contract?

With her footsteps echoing through the halls of the castle, Rowena made her way to her bedchamber and slammed the door shut. Her breathing was harsh as she leaned back against the wood, forcing herself to calm down when she realised she had only just confirmed what Tormod had claimed. She was acting emotionally, and her behaviour was less than what should be expected of the sister of a great laird.

She pushed away from the door to settle on the bed with a heartfelt sigh. On the morrow, she would have to apologise to her mother, Alastair, and Tormod for her actions unless she wanted them to keep treating her as a fragile bird who could not control her emotions or her behaviour. With another sigh, her thoughts turned to Marcus MacDonald. She did love him even though he was a MacDonald, and she was almost certain he returned that love equally despite the fact she was a MacLeod. Their two clans had always been enemies until the two of them had fallen in love and Marcus had proven his love for her by leaving his MacDonald affiliations behind him.

He’d sacrificed everything for her. That was true love, was it not? And in return, Rowena had promised she would wait for Marcus to come back to her after he made his fortune. Then the two of them could live a comfortable life away from the MacLeods and the MacDonalds.

Rowena stood and moved to her armoire. She opened the cupboard and pushed aside the gowns that hid the small wooden chest before returning to her bed. She set the box beside her and unhooked the latch, opening the chest to reveal the leather trousers and tunic inside. Six decades ago, Leona MacLeod had worn these same garments into battle with the rest of her clan. The leather had been imbued with fairy magic to protect the wearer from harm. When Fiona had found the garments, the Grey Lady had told her only someone worthy of the fairies’ protection could wear them. Fiona had proven she was worthy, but had given the garments to Rowena in case she needed them in the future. If Fiona thought Rowena worthy of wearing the armour, then why didn’t her own family?

Rowena stroked the soft leather as a thought occurred to her. Why was she waiting for Marcus to make his fortune so that they might have a future together? Could she not take part in the quest? There were plenty of tales of ships that had gone down along the coast of the Isle of Skye—ships that had been laden with treasure. Or there were tales of treasure buried in the numerous caves along the Isle of Skye’s shoreline by smugglers, bootleggers, or pirates. Perhaps, with the protection of the armour, she could find one of those treasure troves and help establish her and Marcus’s future herself.

A thump against the shutters broke her thoughts. At first she wondered if it was a bat that had flown into the wooden barrier in the darkness, but the sound came again. She set the chest aside and hurried to the window.

Marcus? Had he returned to her? Warmth flooded her limbs as she threw the shutters aside. The cool night air rushed in as she stared at the rear courtyard below her bedchamber. When no one was there, her gaze lifted to the shore. A single torch shone in the darkness.

A thrill raced through Rowena’s blood. Of course Marcus would wait for her along the shoreline. No doubt his ship was anchored offshore and he had taken a boat to get to her as soon as possible. The night was no barrier to their love.

She hesitated at the bedside, considering if she should don the armour she’d retrieved, but decided against it. Marcus was no threat. He would never do anything to harm her.

Her beloved should have presented himself to her brother first, and perhaps that’s what he would do in the light of day. Obviously Marcus was willing to toss protocol aside in his haste to see her again. Filled with anticipation, Rowena silently raced down the hallway towards the stairs, then outside and down the pathway towards the sea gate. Throwing the gate aside, she knew she had to hurry before the guards on the tower noticed the torch and came to investigate. While Alastair had given her and Marcus his blessing to marry eventually, Marcus was still a MacDonald and not yet accepted by all within the castle walls.

On the beach, Rowena scrambled over the rocks in the darkness, towards the torch. The flame hissed, sending a spray of red-gold sparks into the night air. She shivered, not from cold but from the fact that Marcus was nowhere in sight.

“Marcus? Is that you?” The Na Fir-Chlis were beautiful, but they did nothing to illuminate the shoreline before her. Rowena grabbed the torch and held it before her. She could see nothing but knew someone was there. Why didn’t Marcus reveal himself? “I’ve been waiting for you every night. I prayed for your safety, and your speedy return. I missed you,” she said, hoping he was simply hesitating because of the need to judge her steadfastness in his absence. “Marcus, please show yourself. I want nothing more than to hold you in my arms.”

At her words, a shadow separated itself from the darkness. Even though she could not yet see a face, she could tell the shape was that of a male. Although this shape was shorter and more lean than the man she loved.

“Who are you?” she asked, trying to keep her sudden fear from her voice.