Page 26 of Highlander’s Torn Bride

Though she and Alexander had been so close the night before, she had awoken to a gulf between them. She hadn’t understood it at first but, if he was starting to realize and process how many lies she was telling him, she could hardly blame him for taking a step back.

When she made the first move, it had been calculated. She wanted to rid herself of the vow made to Gavin, while simultaneously binding herself to Alexander. It was going to be so clean, so scientific, so practical, just the way she liked things. But she had underestimated him and, in a way, herself. There had been nothing practical about that. Not in the way that he had touched her, or she him.

She felt a shiver rush through her, making her tingle in places that ought not to tingle. Alec’s many nights in the brothel now made far more sense to her. Had she known that that was how she was going to feel, both more whole than ever before and also shattered in her own skin, she would have laughed in Gavin’s face at the mere suggestion of resistance.

Ann pressed a bowl into her hand, giving her a look that Margaret expected meant that Ann was reading her mind, and she blushed.

Alexander and Jonah ate quickly, sharing only a few small comments while they shoveled down the porridge. Half of Jonah’s comments were compliments directed at Ann.

With a grunt of satisfaction, Alexander set his emptied bowl aside. “Well, I guess we better go hunt them down.”

“Aye,” Jonah replied, along with a handful of the other men around the fire.

“Why?” Margaret asked, jumping to her feet.

“Lass,” Alexander winced, standing and crossing to take her by the wrist and lead her away.

“You do not need to go after them,” Margaret said.

“We have to try and find them,” he replied, looking around the carts to make sure they were alone.

“There is no reason for it!” Margaret cried, thinking of all the men in that camp. Men that, no matter how strong Alexander was, would outnumber him.

“I am sorry, truly, but I canna just go back to Dirlot with the thought that there are outlaws out there who are so desperate to ruin the alliance forged by the queen. It could mean another rebellion, for all we ken.”

“But that’s not—” Margaret started before she caught herself. Gavin could not have cared less about the queen or her alliances. Margaret’s abduction had been personal. But she couldn’t hardly tell Alexander that. It would raise the question of why, and then she would have to try and explain how the daughter of a laird ended up in a romantic entanglement with someone like Gavin, who was so far beneath her station.

Alexander caught her by the chin and tilted her head up to face him. His golden eyes looked suddenly brown, as if they had been drained of their life. When he spoke, there was a slight note of sadness there, one that made Margaret stir. “Lass, please tell me if you ken anything more. Or, if you ken a reason we shouldn’t ride out there.”

“I—” she started, but then she stopped herself and clenched her jaw. If Alexander rode out there, then there was a chance that he would get hurt. There was a chance that Gavin would kill him, something that she knew he was capable of. But, if Margaret told the truth and Alexander stayed, then what? At best, he would despise her for lying about her identity. At worst, he would have her beheaded while the queen marched an army upon her clan.

She told herself last night that she would choose Alexander over Gavin, but would she choose Alexander over her clan? Over Mariah and Laura?

Alexander could defend himself. They could not.

“I do not ken anything more than what I told you already,” Margaret said, not able to look him in the eyes when she did. “I just do not wish to see anyone hurt.”

He sighed and took a step back from her.

“Donna worry,” he said, resting his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be gentle on them. I give you my word.”

There was something to his voice, an angry growl like a dog starving at its master’s hand, that made her not believe him. “You do not have to say such a lie,” she said, using her best Isobel tone in order to gain the confidence that she sorely needed. “I can tell you do not wish to give them any such kindness.”

She expected him to laugh, to shake his head, to roll his eyes…those were his usual responses when she let Isobel speak through her mouth. But this time, he did none of those things. This time he stared dead into her eyes and said, “Tis an unfortunate thing to be caught in a lie. One wonders if tis worse for the liar or the one lied to.”

Margaret froze, and let him walk away.

“I’ll leave the two wounded men to escort you and the caravan back. I’ll see you in Dirlot,” he called over his shoulder before rallying his men and leaving her behind.

9

“Ugh!”

The man was thrown to the ground of the small building with such ferocity that Alexander almost felt sorry for him. Almost. As it was, he was holding a piece of rope in his hands that had a spot of blood on it that he was quite sure lined up with a mark on his wife’s ankle. Folded over his lap was his wife’s dress, though it was ruined now that the back had been ripped open.

He was almost certain that Margaret would have ripped it herself, likely so she could slip through the small hole in the wall behind him, but he would punish each man they found as if they had ripped it themselves, just in case.

“I donna ken nothing!” the lad on the ground cried out while one of his men pushed their blade against his neck.