Page 35 of Highlander’s Torn Bride

“I have just learned that you came to my home while I was away in order to take advantage of my sisters and their weaknesses. Without me there to defend them, you have robbed each of them of their freedom, Margaret’s most of all. Do you expect me to believe that she, so ardently set against Clan Mackay while sharing a deep love for another man and her home in Thurso, would have willingly agreed to something such as this?

“Tis something you could have achieved only through severe lies and manipulations, and I’ll not stand for it. You’ve likely convinced even her that this is her will, but I shall never forget how perfectly happy she lived her life here. The only way in which you will achieve my forgiveness is in the reinstatement of the life you have taken from me. Sincerely, Alec Gunn,” Isobel finished, folding the paper back and running it sharply through her fingers.

Margaret never spoke about her brother with him. Unlike her sisters, who she spoke endlessly of, Alec was still a mystery to him. From his understanding, he was almost never home, so Alexander had always assumed he was off trying to improve their situation. Alexander had thought that her brother had known of her arrangement with Laird Gunn as much as her sisters had, but perhaps that hadn’t been true.

Laird Gunn was known for being a coy, crafty man. Had he intentionally gone to Margaret when Alec was gone to convince her that her situation was dire enough to abandon?

“No matter how you wish it, or how much she seems to adjust to this life, it will never be the perfect happiness of her home in Thurso. I’m sure, once things have been adjusted, my father will return her sisters to Thurso, fully reinstating the life that Alec mentions,” Isobel said, using the phrasings of the letter like ropes to bind him to the decision she craved.

Alexander thought about all of their conversations that has passed between them in the weeks since they had been together. He remembered the way that she had grown sad whenever discussing Thurso. He remembered the way she had dodged mention of her brother, and how she had mourned being apart from her sisters. He even remembered, with a bit of anger and jealousy in his chest, every mention she had ever made of Gavin that had contained any degree of affection, and there had not been so few as to be able go through them all now.

His fears seemed to be materializing before him. No matter how much love they shared, it would never be enough. The greatest couples in all the best songs never lasted, either. What had given them the audacity to think themselves different?

“So, Alexander,” Isobel said, crossing over to him and touching a gloved hand to his face. “Do you wish to do what is right for her?”

“Of course I do.”

“Perfect,” Isobel said, “then you’ll let her go.”

12

Margaret sighed as she walked through the hall, unsure of what the summons could possibly be for. Alexander always warned her if they were expecting anyone of importance, anyone she might have been expected to try and impress with prettily done hair and one of the more expensive dresses her uncle had given her. Today, though, he hadn’t said a thing on the matter, so she looked just as plain as ever.

If it ends up being another old man who wishes for me to sit and sing him a song, I’ll have to feign illness, Margaret thought, rubbing at the growing ache in her temple.

Margaret opened the door to Alexander’s office with the tight smile that Isobel so often gave, ready to face anything, only to find herself looking at the very portrait of what she had been trying to imitate.

“Isobel?” Margaret asked, rushing forward to embrace her cousin. “What are you doing here? Where have you been?”

“Oh, here and there, exploring all that Scottish society has to offer,” Isobel replied, sticking her nose in the air. But, Margaret knew that if that were true, Scottish society would hardly push her to come to a place like Dirlot.

“Margaret,” another voice said, and Margaret turned with a start.

Gavin was leaning against Alexander’s desk, his arms crossed in front of him as he gave her a look of proud joy. Margaret’s eyes shifted behind Gavin, to Alexander, sitting at his father’s desk, his eyes dead of all light while he leaned his chin interlocked fingers.

“What is going on?” Margaret asked. She tried to step toward Alexander, but Gavin intervened, placing himself in her path.

“Cousin, do not fret, all is well. We are all friends now, united under a common cause,” Isobel said, gesturing to the two men with a broad, false smile. It was the same smile and gesture that she used to use when she showed off the impressive size of the boars served at her father’s table.

“And what could that be?”

“To see us all returned to our rightful places in the world, of course,” Isobel said. “Oh, Gavin, sir, please explain it to her.”

“When it came to running off with me, yer only concern was for the safety of the clan. I realized that the only way to ensure the clan’s wellbeing was to find Lady Isobel and have her take yer place, so that the order is still fulfilled without the queen getting angry, if she ever even finds out that a switch was made. So, as you can see, I tracked Lady Isobel down and convinced her.”

“Indeed he did, cousin. Thank you for holding my place here. I shall happily take the post from your hands so that you can return to Thurso with Gavin.”

Margaret laughed. “As much as I would thank you for your thought, I think we are doing fine here. Besides, I do not think that a marriage vow is a simple post that can be passed as easily as a flower crown.”

“No, but it can be annulled. Alexander has already agreed to it.”

“Absolutely not, he would not do—” Margaret began, turning to Alexander to wait for his objection, but he hadn’t moved. And, in the way he sat so stiffly, she saw that he wasn’t going to move. Margaret felt like someone had ripped her inside out, and her still beating heart had been allowed to fall to the ground.

“Is this not exciting, Margaret? All shall be as it was properly designed. You did not wish to stay in such a place like this. You are not bred for it,” Isobel laughed. “You are far too…how shall I put it…low? Not to disrespect my aunt, but she did you quite the disservice by marrying that man and putting you in this position. But here we must be, following the proper protocols of good society.”

“Alexander,” Margaret said, turning to him now, “say something.”

Defend me. Turn them away. Do something to show me you care.