Makenna entered the spiraling stairwell just as another euphoric burst erupted. Loud indiscernible shouts were now coming from both halls. Makenna wondered if there was anyone still protecting Lochlen. It sounded as if every soldier had joined the merriment below.
Holding on to the rope suspended down the center of the stairwell, she climbed the two stories from her third-floor chambers to the tower battlements. Lochlen’s spacious fighting platforms provided good vantage points to launch arrows at attackers, but they were also superb spots for watching people undetected.
As soon as Makenna took a step out into the night air, she saw the hulking figure of her guard. Through the crenels, she could see the shadows of other soldiers still at their posts. The number of men on duty might be slightly lower than normal, but every tower and section of the inner and outer curtain walls was manned.
Brodie had heard someone coming up the stairwell and moved to intercept. Never did he dream it would be Makenna. Just minutes ago, Colin had cornered him and Gorten, ordering them to the towers. He was furious with them. Brodie didn’t want to discover what levels his commander’s anger would grow to if he found him with Makenna wrapped in a blanket and dressed only in her chemise. “Milady,” he acknowledged hesitantly.
Makenna arched her eyebrows. Brodie had bright yellow hair many women considered quite attractive. He was of medium height, and so thick with muscles he appeared to be chubby from a distance. Normally, the good-natured guard was full of so much self-confidence it was nauseating. Right now he seemed perplexed…even nervous. “What bothers you, Brodie? My state of dress?”
Brodie’s brown eyes widened in alarm. “If the commander knew you were here…with me…like that, milady, he would be very unhappy. And I would appreciate avoiding any more circumstances that might result in my being the target of his ire.”
“More circumstances? Did Colin lecture you about my abandoning you for a brief swim?”
Brodie rolled his eyes and swallowed a snort. He looked over the wall at the drinking comrades he would have been with and snapped, “Why do you think I have night duty, milady? And will have it for the next fortnight.”
“Good Lord, I assure you I had no intention of getting you or Gorten in trouble. Where is Gorten? Or did he escape the wrath of the almighty Colin?”
Brodie pointed to the top of Canmore Tower in the distance. The large shadow pacing the top was her second victim. Makenna felt instantly ashamed. “I’m so sorry. I will talk to Colin and end this ridiculous punishment.”
Brodie shuddered. “Please do not do that, milady. You do not know our commander as we do. I’d like to keep what little pride I have left, and I’m sure Gorten feels the same.”
Makenna yielded with a slight nod. It would only shame the large guard, and it would put Colin in an awkward position. Ego would keep him from rescinding the order, and possibly even increase the length of Brodie’s and Gorten’s sentences. A fate caused by her own self-interest. “I really had no idea Colin was so intent upon this…this protection. I don’t want it, nor do I need it.” She could see Brodie about to protest and put her hand up to stop him. “But I swore an oath to His High-handedness this evening that I will let you know when I am leaving the keep from now on.”
“Gorten and I thank you enormously, milady.”
Makenna pulled the blanket tighter around her. Brodie was not such a bad fellow. He still needed to gain the control and posture that made a man truly attractive, but he was kind, sweet, and in many ways very handsome. “Hmmm, well, it is not your fault to have such an awful duty. I know I can be quite a chore, and it must be miserable following someone about all day. I know I could never endure such an assignment.”
Brodie laughed. “I must admit Gorten and I dreaded it when the order came. And while nights like these are not enjoyable, we have grown to take pleasure in joining you when you leave. You are truly unlike any woman we have ever known. Gorten says you are quite good with the sword.”
Makenna’s head whipped around. “He told you? That was supposed to be our secret. If Colin ever discovered that I have continued sparring with anyone…well, I have no idea what he would do, but I am sure Gorten and I would be the two most miserable creatures in all of Scotland when he was through.”
“Truer words were never said, milady. However, you must be very good for Gorten to give you a compliment and continue risking potential misery for you. Still, having never seen you fight, I find it hard to believe you can wield a claymore with as much accuracy as Gorten professes.”
Makenna leaned against one of the large stone crenations and looked out at the Dunstan village spreading outside the second curtain wall. “It’s my Secret.”
Brodie’s eyebrows rose inquiringly. “Your secret, milady?”
“Aye, my Secret. A special blade Camus fashioned specifically for me. He’s the one who convinced Father I could and even should learn the art of combat…that is, until someone unconvinced him,” she bristled.
“You refer to the commander now.”
“Indeed I do,” she whispered, watching the late night activity of her clansmen and women. Body language alone told her that the euphoric voices she heard inside the walls did not match those of the shadows moving in the village. The few faces she could make out were mostly grim, and none were smiling. No, the soldiers might be overjoyed their commander was to remain with them and eventually become their laird, but her clan was not of the same mind.
“I should leave you before Colin wonders why there are two bodies up here and decides to abandon the party to investigate.”
Brodie moved out of the way to give her access back down the stairwell. “Thank you, milady; however, the commander has already retired for the evening.”
Makenna paused after descending one step. “He did? I thought Colin would be celebrating his grand decision with his men.”
“No, milady. The commander announced you and he had decided it would be best for the clan and the men if you were to wed. I realize it was not of your choosing, milady, but I…all of us…appreciate the decision. We hope you both will find happiness and peace despite the reasons behind your union.”
Makenna blinked a few times and stared up into the dark, clear sky. Colin had publicly declared that she, too, had made the decision and the sacrifice to wed. She could not recall anyone—especially a man—giving a woman credit in such a way. Not even her father whom she loved with all her heart. Her sisters’ husbands exerted their control whenever possible, always seeking praise for efforts, decisions, and possessions that were not theirs.
Colin’s generosity did not make sense. He had been so adamant against marrying her, implying she was inept and unsatisfactory as a woman. And without warning, he had changed his mind.
Then he had kissed her.
True, it had been her first serious kiss with any man, but she had not been prepared to experience such a rare, passionate connection. Even now she feared only Colin could create the powerful whirlwind of emotion it had awakened within her.
For a moment during their embrace, she believed Colin was experiencing the same tumult of desire, but she had been wrong. He could not have shared the same yearning, craving for her as she had for him and then turn cold and aloof so quickly. Within a blink of an eye, he acted as if the kiss had never happened. With the next blink, Colin made the decision to marry, and she was supposed to go back to the keep and abide by it. But if Brodie’s revelation about Colin’s announcement was true, she might have misinterpreted his reaction to their kiss. How was she going to live with a man who was such a mixture of contradictions and mystery?