“Aye, Laird.”
It was the second time Dunlop had referred to him as laird. With Alexander’s body so close it felt odd and a little presumptuous. But he was laird now. And if he were to retain that title, Colin had to act like the Dunstan chieftain, beginning immediately.
“And, Dunlop, once you have finished with Gorten and Brodie, go find Father Lanaghly.”
Dunlop nodded and left.
Colin turned to Drake. “I want you to oversee Alexander’s preparations for burial. We will have the ceremony in three days. That should give all clansmen an opportunity to come and give their respects. If you have any questions, come to me. If you need something or someone, ask Ula or Rona. Do not, under any circumstances, seek Makenna for help. She has been through enough the past few days.”
Makenna stepped out of the tower. A large crowd of Dunstan clansmen filled the inner yard. Brodie leaned over and verified the tension she could see lining her people’s faces. “Word has spread of Alexander’s death. People are already questioning your husband’s right to be laird.”
Makenna nodded, letting him know she had heard his warning, but as soon as the thick crowd saw her they pounced. Brodie was pulling her through the mass, but everywhere she turned, there were questions. Who did she think she was marrying, an outsider and forcing him upon them as laird? Why could she not have married MacCuaig, a Lowlander who knew and respected their customs and ways? Did she regret her decision? Could she get an annulment?
No! she wanted to scream. She had no regrets, that she would never get an annulment, and that Colin held more respect for each and every Dunstan in his small finger than MacCuaig ever held for a single man, woman, or child of his own clan.
But she didn’t have to.
A piercing bellow blanketed the crowd. Caught off guard, they instinctively squashed their carping and listened. Colin’s deep baritone voice was laced with command and promise.
“I am now laird of this clan and claim Lochlen as my home. Alexander charged me with ensuring your safety and well-being and I intend to keep my promise to him. Any Dunstan who wishes to challenge me, let him come forward.”
The crowd squirmed with dissatisfaction, but no one moved to contest Colin publicly. Near the great hall, the faces of several neighboring lairds came into view. This was not how he had hoped to establish relations and alliances, but he had no choice. This was the way it had to be.
“My wife, Deirdre, wanted this to be,” Colin continued. “Alexander wanted this to be, and Makenna Dunstan married me so this would be. I am laird, and I will defend my rights as laird to any who oppose me. In return, I will regard any attack against the Dunstans—whether it be clan, army, or nation—as a personal strike against me.”
Makenna watched as Colin moved through the self-parting mass toward the great hall. No doubt he would be spending the next several days in conference. Many alliances would now be gone with the passing of her father. Some, like MacCuaig, would refuse to support a Highland leader.
A familiar voice rang out, this time aimed at Drake. “Drake, you are one of us. You should be laird, not an outsider.”
Drake halted his long, lean frame and glared at the old man, his ice-blue eyes unwavering and unsympathetic. “It is time to heal this clan, Gannon, and save it from itself. I cannot do that. I give my support and loyalty to the only one I know who can.”
Hearing Drake’s unswerving loyalty shook Makenna to her core. His voice was laced with the same devotion Colin had just used. My wife, Deirdre, he had said. Makenna Dunstan, he had said. The man had been kind to her, nothing more. Colin had what he wanted. He was now laird.
Makenna entered Forfar Tower in silent misery. The loss of two men was more than she could bear.
Makenna was rising from her bath when a knock on the door echoed in the chamber. Just as Colin had ordered, only her sisters had been allowed to visit. They had chosen not to.
She finished securing her gown and opened the door. It was Camus. Makenna shrieked and hugged her friend and mentor.
“Ah, laochag, this should be a time of joy and celebration for you. Instead, you must deal with your father’s passing. Laird Dunstan was a good and just man. He will be missed.”
Makenna wiped away a tear and pointed to one of the chairs by the hearth. Camus relaxed on the wide, padded teak stool and examined his friend. His little warrior was trying to be strong, but streaks of recent tears were evident on her face.
Makenna pasted on a fake smile and attempted light humor. “How did you ever get in? I thought Colin had barred the entire male species from my chambers.”
Camus recognized the effort at levity. “Ah, your husband may now be chief of this clan, but we have a history.”
“I saw the visiting lairds join Colin in the hall. Do you know how the talks were faring?”
He shook his head with genuine concern. “I don’t truly know, but if they are like the crowd outside, not well.”
Makenna got up and went to stand by the window. She pulled the tapestry aside and gazed at the great hall below. The crowd had diminished, but several clansmen were still standing about, obviously complaining. “My father would not be pleased to know his people were acting thus.”
“Aye, but his last thoughts were of you. He was happy last night knowing you and Colin were married. It gave him great peace.”
Makenna sighed. The time between last night and now seemed like an eternity. “I think he was. I’m glad he passed believing all was well.”
“Colin will need you now more than ever, just as you need him.”
Makenna shook her head. “Colin needed me to marry him. I’ve done that. I’ve even consummated the marriage ensuring that an annulment is not possible.”
“Makenna! You cannot truly believe that. Colin is a proud man. He would never use a woman so, just to be the Dunstan laird.”
Makenna looked up at the rafters on the ceiling. “He did. Truly. That is all he wanted. I was a means to an end. You heard him today. He still considers Deirdre his wife and me a Dunstan.”
When word had spread that Colin and Makenna had agreed to marry, Camus knew something had transpired between them. Something much greater than a need to protect a clan. Unfortunately, she and Colin were still trying to understand the nature of their new bond when Alexander died.
“I do recall what Colin said, and to whom he was talking. A crowd of Dunstans with fleeting memories who need to recall it was not you who first brought Colin into their lives, but Deirdre. He was trying to protect you. He has demanded that your sisters take on the responsibility of readying the ceremony. He knew the distress it would cause you, and he wished to shield you from further hurt. You misjudge him greatly, little warrior.”
“Are Rona and Ula complying with Colin’s request?”
“More like Colin’s demand, and they have no choice. Either they comply or leave. And both are still hoping to receive a stipend they feel owed to them.”
Makenna rubbed her arms. “Good Lord, their hatred of him must be limitless by now. Does the rest of the clan feel the same?”
“Aye, in some cases, but in others Colin is securing their trust. Already he has ordered soldiers to assist with the keep’s help. And when Drake brought Colin your father’s sword, he ordered it to be returned to your father’s side, claiming that he may be laird, but that did not entitle him to take what belonged to Alexander and the Dunstans.”
“He said that?”
“My oath. That sword is worth a mint with its gold and jeweled hilt.”
“It has been in my family for almost three centuries. Malcolm Canmore gave it to the first laird of Lochlen.”
“And your husband respects that.”
“But if Colin does not take the sword, who will?”