CHAPTER 28
Inveraray Castle, Argyll
Glynis forced herself to drag her gaze from the young red-haired woman’s little finger—which was missing the last joint—to her face. From the way Lady Muriel gazed up at her husband, it was obvious that she adored the man. What was a pleasant surprise was the way John Campbell’s hard expression softened when he looked at Muriel. Happiness radiated from them.
Glynis swallowed back the well of emotion choking her at the sight. Long ago, she had believed that she would find love like that when she wed. She had decided never to marry again, rather than accept something less a second time.
Against her will, her gaze traveled down the head table past Muriel and John to Archibald Campbell, who had become earl and chieftain when his father was killed at the Battle of Flodden. The Campbell chieftain was black-haired and broad-chested, and he had the piercing eyes of a hawk. It was not the chieftain, however, who drew her attention, but his sister.
Catherine Campbell sat on the other side of the chieftain sharing a plate of food with Alex. With her lush curves, creamy skin, and dark, luminous eyes, Catherine was the sort of woman every man lusted after. And anyone could see that she wanted Alex. Catherine was not a subtle woman.
Catherine’s deep, sensuous laugh seemed to flow below the noise in the hall straight into Glynis’s ears. Glynis stabbed her knife into a slab of pork and cut it into tiny bites for Sorcha, who sat beside her. She chewed her own food with such resolve that her jaw ached.
Glynis was so intent on keeping her gaze on the food before her that she was unaware of the hush in the hall until Sorcha poked her in the side. When she looked up, the only sound in the room was a furious whispering between the Campbell chieftain and his brother and sister, who sat on either side of him. The seat next to Catherine was empty.
“Glynis.”
Glynis jumped at the sound of Alex’s voice behind her.
He rested his hand on her shoulder and said close to her ear, “We are leaving the hall.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Shaggy MacLean has just come through the gate,” he said. “’Tis best we not get caught in the middle of this play.”
Alex did not wait for her to agree. He picked up Sorcha, pulled Glynis to her feet, and whisked them through a side door near the end of the head table. The door led into a narrow passageway between the castle’s stone wall and the decorative wood paneling of the interior wall of the hall.
“What is Shaggy doing here?” Glynis whispered.
“I believe he’s come to share the infinitely sad news of the accidental death of his beloved wife, Catherine, with her brothers.”
“Nay, he would not!” Glynis said.
“Come,” Alex said with a broad smile. “There’s a peephole behind the head table through which we can watch the fun.”
Peepholes in a castle were family secrets. Either Catherine Campbell had an appalling lack of discretion—or she was anticipating bringing Alex into the family.
“Who was that sitting next to ye?” Alex asked. “Ye seemed friendly.”
Glynis forgot she had even spoken to the man, and it took her a moment to recall his name. “Malcolm Campbell. He seemed a quiet, steady man.”
“Ye mean dull and tedious,” Alex said.
“I’m sure he’s a good man,” she said. “Still waters run deep.”
“Stagnant, more likely.” Alex turned to Sorcha and held his finger to his lips. “I’ll explain to ye later, sweet one.”
Alex came to a halt and pointed out two peepholes, close together. He put his arm around Glynys’s shoulders as they leaned down to look. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying his touch, before she remembered what she was supposed to be doing.
“I see him,” she whispered.
Shaggy was walking down the length of the great hall with head down, as if he could hardly bear the weight of his grief. Midway down the room, he staggered. And then he commenced to weeping and wailing, making the most wretched sound Glynis had ever heard.
“Ach, the man is playing the part for all he’s worth,” Alex said beside her.
Lady Catherine had left the table. Glynis remembered how much it had shaken her to see her former husband and couldn’t blame Catherine for wanting to avoid seeing Shaggy after what he’d done to her.
Shaggy’s shoulders shook as he paused to mop his face with a big handkerchief. He continued in this fashion, weeping and wailing, until he was a few feet in front of the chieftain’s high table.
Then, suddenly, he halted midstride. His mouth fell open, and his hand went to his heart. Glynis followed his wide-eyed stare and saw Catherine taking her place next to the Campbell chieftain.
Glynis heard Alex’s deep chuckle as Shaggy looked over his shoulder, evidently expecting the Campbell guards to converge on him.
“Will they kill him?” Glynis asked.
“The Campbells will observe the time-honored tradition of Highland hospitality,” Alex said, “and refrain from murdering Shaggy while he is a guest in their home.”
The Campbell chieftain gave one of the servants a slight nod, and the man guided Shaggy to a seat. While Shaggy looked ill, the Campbell siblings sat at the head table eating and drinking as if nothing was amiss. They were a cold-blooded lot.
“Sorcha is getting restless,” Alex said. “There will be nothing more to see tonight except for watching Shaggy sweat.”
Alex led Glynys out of the narrow corridor and up a back stairway.
“What will the Campbells do about Shaggy?” she asked.
“They’ll bide their time and toy with him,” Alex said. “Shaggy will never know what day they will strike. But one day he’ll be found dead with a dirk in his belly, and everyone will know it was a Campbell who put it there.”
Alex opened a door at the top of the stairs, and Glynis found herself outside the bedchamber she shared with Sorcha and Bessie.
“How is it that ye know about the peepholes and secret passageways in the Campbell stronghold?” she asked.
“People like to tell me secrets,” Alex said.
By people, he meant women. And in this particular instance, Lady Catherine Campbell.
Glynis helped Sorcha get ready for bed, and then Alex sat on the floor beside his daughter’s pallet and told her a long story, easily going back and forth from French to Gaelic. Though Glynis was familiar with the tale, Alex made it more exciting than her father’s seannachie ever had.
“She looks like a wee angel,” Glynis said when Sorcha had fallen asleep.
“’Tis early yet,” Alex said with a glint in his eyes that made her nervous.
“Bessie will be up soon,” she said.
Alex shook his head. “I believe your maid has found herself a man.”
“Bessie?” Glynis was shocked. “Ye must be joking.”
“Ye can trust me on that,” Alex said, as he stepped toward her. “We won’t be seeing her for at least a couple of hours.”
Glynis backed up until her heel clunked against the wooden door.
“All the same,” Alex said, as he reached behind her and slid the bar across, “we should make certain we won’t be interrupted.”
“Your daughter is asleep on the floor!”
“That’s what bed curtains are for,” he said. “Come, Glynis, let me take ye behind them and show ye how much I missed ye.”
“Isn’t Catherine waiting for ye?” she asked.
“So ye are jealous.” He chuckled deep in his chest. “I suspect Catherine and her brothers will be watching Shaggy for half the night.”
“I see. Ye have some time on your hands, is that it?”
“You’re the only one I’ve asked to be my wife,” he said.
She closed her eyes when he lowered his head and pressed his warm lips to the side of her throat.
“It is you I want, Glynis MacNeil,” he said against her skin. “Don’t send me looking for another wife.”
“I can’t do this,” she said, pushing him away. “We aren’t even wed yet, and ye have another woman expecting ye later.”
“But I don’t want her,” he said. “I want you.”
He looked so sincere that it would be easy to believe him. Still, he had not denied that Catherine was expecting him.
“For how long would ye want me?” she asked. “A week? A month? That won’t do for me.”
“What if I were to give ye my promise that I wouldn’t stray?” he said, sounding pained. “Will ye take me then? Sorcha and I need ye.”
“How could I trust ye?” she asked, though with Alex’s hands running over her, she was sorely tempted to. “Ye told me before that ye didn’t know yourself if ye could be faithful.”
“If I give my word,” he said with steel in his voice, “I’ll keep it.”
She wanted him to be faithful because he wanted no one but her. Ach, she was foolish to want the impossible from Alexander Bàn MacDonald. If he loved her, she might throw her fate to the four winds and hope for the best. But Alex only wished to wed her for the sake of his daughter.
“Please, Glynis,” he said, his voice like a caress across her skin. “Say ye will marry me and come to bed.”
CHAPTER 29
Alex was flirting shamelessly with Catherine, though his heart was not in it. He’d spent half his life trying to avoid jealous women, and here he was doing his best to make one jealous. And it wasn’t working, damn her.
Last night, he was certain Glynis was going to give in—but she had not. If she continued to refuse him, he would have to choose another. His daughter needed a mother.
Alex caught sight of his daughter and Bessie going through the doorway that led to the upper floors. Glynis was not with them. When he glanced about the hall, he did not see her.
D’Arcy was missing as well.
Under the table, Catherine’s hand was moving up his leg—and heaven knew his cock was suffering from lack of attention. But he did not have time for this now.
“Come to my chamber tonight,” she said close to his ear.
Alex was used to avoiding promises, and he did not make one now.
“I am meeting with your brothers soon, and I must look in on my daughter first,” he said, as he eased Catherine’s hand off his leg. He did intend to see Sorcha—as soon as he found out where Glynis was.
“Your daughter?” Catherine leaned toward him until her breast pressed against his arm. “Surely her nursemaid can look after her?”
“Sorcha is not accustomed to having so many strangers about,” Alex said. “She’s had a difficult time, and she becomes anxious if she does not see me for long.”
“Poor child,” Catherine said, pursing her full, red lips. “She’s lucky to have such an attentive father.”
Alex smiled, pleased by the compliment and by Catherine’s concern for his daughter. “I’m glad ye understand.”
If he could not persuade Glynis to see sense, perhaps he should consider wedding Catherine.
* * *
Glynis felt so unsettled that she had asked Bessie to take Sorcha up for a nap while she went for a walk along the shore of the loch. She was staring off at the mountains, wishing she was home, when she felt someone beside her and turned.
“Ye startled me, Lord d’Arcy,” she said, putting her hand to her chest.
“Please call me Antoine,” he said in his lovely accent. “May I walk with you?”
“Of course,” she said. “Ye have a remarkable gift for languages, Lord—Antoine. Your Gaelic improves by the day.”
“I have a good teacher,” he said, taking her arm. “I hope you will continue to practice with me.”
“I will be here at Inveraray only a short while longer.” She hoped. “But I am happy to help ye until I leave.”
After they walked for a time, D’Arcy came to a halt and turned to face her.
“I have an important question to ask you.” He took her hand and kissed it, as if she were a princess. “Albany has appointed me castellan of Dunbar Castle, a great fortress on the sea to the east. Would you consider joining me there and being the queen of my castle?”
A marriage proposal was the last thing she had expected.
Glynis knew she should shout aye and throw her arms around his neck. D’Arcy was perfect in every possible way: handsome, serious, principled, and a renowned warrior. Most important, he was closely connected to the regent and therefore in a position to protect her clan.
D’Arcy was so far above her father’s expectations for her that she was tempted to agree to be his wife just for spite. And he would be a most considerate husband.
So why did she stand here saying nothing?
Because Alex MacDonald’s face, full of laughter, flooded her vision. Alex was wrong for her in so many ways, and yet the devil tempted her to choose the sinfully charming man.
“Thank ye for your kind offer,” she said. “Please give me a day to consider.”
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