Clearly, Catherine had decided she wanted Alex—and not his child.
“As ye say, Sorcha was not born a Highlander,” Glynis said. “I fear she will have a difficult time adjusting to Alexander MacDonald’s home. ’Tis a lonely, desolate place.”
Of course, Glynis had never been there. If she could dissuade Catherine from pursuing Alex, however, Sorcha would be safe from her.
“What is Alex’s home like?” Catherine asked.
“It sits on a high cliff facing north over the sea, where the wind is always blowing.” Glynis shuddered. “They don’t get many visitors there. Ye could go weeks without seeing a soul outside the household.”
Catherine frowned. “How many are in the household?”
“I fear the family has hit on hard times,” Glynis said, and shook her head.
“But Alexander’s cousin is chieftain, and he holds Alex in high esteem.”
“That is true enough, but the chieftain must keep all his warriors at his own castle, Dunscaith,” Glynis said. “Unfortunately, he can offer little help when pirates attack, as they frequently do. And then, of course, there are the MacLeods.”
“Ach, you’re just jealous,” Catherine said, a smile curving her lips. “I’ve seen how ye look at Alexander.”
Damn, Glynis was never good at lying. What else could she do to protect the child? If she told Alex what she’d seen, he would not believe Catherine intended to murder the child. And she could not blame him, for no one would. And yet, Glynis had never been more certain of anything in her life.
Glynis kept her gaze fixed ahead as she marched along the path. Her skin itched from the child’s damp heat soaking through the front of her gown. Though her arms grew weary, she held Sorcha tight against her. When they reached the fork in the path, Catherine stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“Let go of me,” Glynis said, her façade breaking.
“I’m doing ye a favor, Glynis, for we both know ye couldn’t keep a man like Alex satisfied,” Catherine said with her cat’s smile. “He’ll be in my bed tonight—and he won’t want to leave it.”
With that, Catherine turned and started up the fork that climbed the hill, her wet gown clinging to every curve.
Glynis understood why Shaggy had left the woman on a tidal rock.
* * *
Alex was in a foul mood as he waited for the guards to admit him into the Campbell chieftain’s private chamber. By now, D’Arcy would have told Glynis of his true intentions. Alex had put off visiting his daughter because he didn’t want to find Glynis weeping her eyes out over the Frenchman.
“The chieftain is ready for ye,” one of the guards said. “I’ll take your weapons.”
The Campbell chieftain had hundreds of warriors at his command and far more guards protecting his person than the regent had. Parting with his claymore and dirks worsened Alex’s mood. He never felt right without his weapons close to hand.
Inside the chamber, the Campbell chieftain and his brother John, the Thane of Cawdor, sat on ornately carved chairs with rich tapestries hanging on the wall behind them. Alex needed to keep his wits about him. This pair had proven they were crafty enough to hold on to power in the ever-changing currents of royal and clan politics.
The Campbell chieftain waved for his guards to leave the room, a symbolic gesture of trust. Unlike Alex, the two Campbells wore their weapons.
“My sister Catherine tells me you are the one who saved her from drowning,” the chieftain said when Alex had sat down in the single chair opposite them.
“’Twas fortunate I was there to offer assistance,” Alex said.
“We’re no pleased that ye stole horses from our men,” John, the Thane of Cawdor, said. “But we are impressed.”
“I only borrowed them,” Alex said.
“Someone murdered the Campbell fishermen ye met.” The chieftain’s black eyes burned bright with anger. “One of them lived long enough to tell us it wasn’t you.”
That was lucky.
“D’Arcy tells me ye had some difficulty with our new regent,” the chieftain said.
“Difficulty? Ach, the regent liked me so well he wanted to keep me as a permanent guest,” Alex said, and the two Campbells laughed.
“I like to discharge my debts,” the chieftain said. “I’ll make certain the MacDonalds of Sleat are not falsely accused of being traitorous rebels.”
“I appreciate that,” Alex said, and the chieftain nodded, accepting his due. Now for the difficult part. “As ye know, the Western Isles are swarming with rebels. By not joining them, my clan risks being attacked. For us to take the Crown’s side in this fight, we need a strong ally.”
The Campbell chieftain nodded and folded his hands. “That would be wise.”
“A marriage alliance is one means of binding our clans in friendship,” John said. “Once this matter with Shaggy Maclean is settled, our sister will be free to remarry.”
Sweat rolled down Alex’s back. He hoped they were not suggesting what he thought they were.
“I don’t have the authority to agree to a marriage on my chieftain’s behalf,” Alex said and hardly felt guilty for throwing Connor to the wolves.
“Catherine seems to favor you,” John said.
“Ach, I’m no more than a chieftain’s cousin.” Alex’s head was pounding. Now that the offer was being made, he was suddenly very certain he did not want to marry Catherine. “I’m sure ye will want someone more important.”
“After the marriage I arranged for her nearly ended in her death,” the chieftain said, “I’m inclined to let Catherine have her way this time.”
O shluagh! Alex silently pleaded for help from the fairies.
“Your sister is as fair a lass as ever graced the Highlands,” Alex said, “but I’ve already asked another to be my wife.” Though Glynis had refused him, he did ask.
“That pretty MacNeil lass?” John asked.
“Aye, and I’ve already bedded her,” Alex said. Under Highland custom, a promise to marry followed by a bedding made you as good as wed. Alex wasn’t telling them that the bedding had come before, and not after the promise. “I intend to negotiate the marriage contract with her father when we return.”
“I wish ye well,” John said, “but I suggest ye hide your wife’s dirk.”
Alex forced a laugh, though he did not find the remark amusing.
“I believe my chieftain would be honored to enter into an agreement of manrent, instead.” Alex was suggesting an agreement under which his clan would have the protection of the powerful Campbells in exchange for sending warriors when the Campbells called on them.
“Tell your chieftain I’m agreeable to it,” the Campbell said. “I understand he has his own troubles to deal with now, but I’ll expect him to come with his warriors when I need them.”
Alex could go home now, knowing he had accomplished the best he could for his clan. Of course, they could count on the Campbells only so long as their interests coincided. The Campbells looked out for the Campbells, first, last, and always. But for the time being, the Campbells would mind their backs vis-à-vis both the Crown and the other clans. That would free them to turn their attention to subduing the pirates on North Uist.
Glynis could ruin it all. If she did not become Alex’s wife in the very near future, the Campbell chieftain would take offense over Alex’s refusal of his sister. And the only way to fix that would be to marry Catherine.
Alex was in a grim mood when he knocked on Glynis’s bedchamber door.
“Where are they?” he demanded when he found only Bessie there.
“I don’t know where Mistress Glynis is, but I thought Sorcha was with you.”
“With me?”
“Aye, Lady Catherine said she would take Sorcha to ye,” Bessie said. “As the two of ye seemed uncommonly friendly, I didn’t think ye would want me to tell her nay…”