Highlanders. Michelle Willingham
swirling about his bare thighs, his swords bumping there with his every stride. His blue gaze was piercing as he halted before her. “Was the choice to surrender yers?”
It was hard to speak. “Yes.”
He softened. “So quickly, ye become wise.”
She felt like striking him. “What do you want with me? Why did you come back?”
His smile vanished. “Yer brother attacked my castle, Lady Juliana, no doubt with yer blessing.”
“He attacked, not I.” She felt her temper rising, was aware that she should fight it, but did not even try. “It would not be as easy to attack my brother. That would take courage. I am an easier opponent. Attacking a woman is a laughing matter.”
He darkened and seemed incapable of speech. Behind him, his men seemed astonished and uncomfortable. “‘tis no laughing matter, I assure ye. Lady—do ye accuse me of cowardice?”
She began to shake. “I was just accused of cowardice.”
His mouth curled, but without mirth. “I dinna think ye cowardly, I think ye far too brave and bold fer yer own good.”
“Do you flatter me now?” she cried. “Or do you insult me? It is cowardly to attack a woman!” And the moment she had cried out, she wished she had not done so.
He stared in disbelief. A shocked silence fell. And Mary came into the hall, her face ashen.
She looked back and forth between them, several times. Then she hurried over to Juliana. “My sister is distressed,” she said tersely. “She doesn’t mean to insult you.”
“She means it,” he said flatly. “I attacked ye, Lady Juliana, because ye have a great value to me.”
What did he mean? She glanced at her sister, certain her consternation was shared. Mary looked as distraught as she felt.
Alasdair turned to Neil, the tall, blond Highlander at his side. “Search the keep. Account fer everyone. Make sure no weapons are hidden.” He faced the women. “Ye will feed my men. We will depart tomorrow on the first tide.” His expression cool, he walked past them both, taking a seat at the table. The castle maids rushed to serve him.
Juliana cringed as his men rushed upstairs, others going down into the cellars. She and Mary exchanged more worried glances and Mary seized her wrist. Fear was reflected in her eyes.
Juliana knew she was frightened because the children would soon be discovered. But she had one more pressing matter. She hurried over to the table, taking a deep breath for courage.
Alasdair turned to face her, one leg on each side of the bench. His expression became wary.
“What do you intend?” Juliana asked, trying to keep her tone calm. It was impossible. “Will you leave a garrison here, when you leave on the first tide? And what will you do with me and my sister?”
“I beg yer pardon—we leave on the first tide. We go to my home on Islay.” His stare was unwavering.
Juliana hugged herself. “Are you taking me captive?”
“Ay, I am taking ye—and yer sister—hostage.”
“Why?” she cried. “Why seek revenge upon me? You attacked us!”
“Yer brother attacked Ardtonrish Castle.”
“I am not my brother!”
He suddenly stood up, towering over her. “Ye should not have gone to the cathedral last week.”
She could not comprehend him. Instead of questioning what he said, she asked, “Do you wish to escalate this war between Clan Donald and Dougall? For that is all you will accomplish!”
“You think to advise me? Yer brother should have thought twice about sending a sheep to spy upon me.” Then, “It hardly matters. We were already at war. We have been at war for a hundred years, even longer. I am taking ye hostage, Lady Juliana, and no begging, no tears, will change my mind.”
“It matters!” Tears filled her eyes. “If you must take a hostage, take me—but please, leave my sister here. She is with child.”
“So ye have told me. I canna leave Lady Comyn here. She is the Earl of Buchan’s daughter by marriage—in the end, she may be a bigger boon than ye.”
With real dismay, Juliana glanced at Mary as she approached them. Before either one could speak, he held up his hand. “Enough. Make sure yer ready to journey at sunrise. And make sure the children are ready.”
Mary paled.
Juliana said, “The children?”
“Lady Comyn has three sons.”
Mary seemed ready to collapse. Juliana seized her arm to keep her standing. “They are not here, Alasdair. They remain at Castle Bain, her husband’s home.”
He folded his muscular arms across his chest. “I heard that there were children here, Lady Juliana.”
How had he heard that? Then she remembered that he had spent the night at Achanduin Castle—most of the island knew that her sister was in residence with her boys.
Neil came downstairs with Elasaid, the dark-haired maid pale with fright.
“Who is that?” Alasdair demanded.
“That is my maid,” Mary whispered.
“She was in a chamber above,” Neil said. “With three children, claiming they are hers.”
“I have three boys,” Elasaid whispered, trembling.
Neil said, “And the blond one saw me and cried, ‘a Comyn.’” He actually chuckled.
Alasdair turned his piercing stare on Mary.
Mary stepped forward before Juliana could stop her. She was breathing hard. “We cannot deceive you, then. The boys are my sons, but I beg you, do not take them hostage.”
Before he could answer, Juliana rushed between them. “You want me—not my sister, not the boys. Please,” she said. She gripped his arm. “Take me, but leave Mary and the boys. Surely, somewhere inside you, there is kindness and compassion.”
His eyes widened. He looked down at her hand. Juliana released him.
His eyes dark, he said, “Ye, yer sister and yer nephews will be well cared for—on Islay. I may kill the enemy in battle, but I do not harm women or children, Lady Juliana.” And with that, he turned his back on her.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dunyveg Castle, Islay, Scotland—the next day
“IF THERE IS anything that you need, you must only ask,” Lady MacDonald said. “I know these are difficult times.”
Juliana had walked to the single window in the tower chamber she would share with her sister and the children. Dunyveg sat upon a cliff that protruded into the ocean, and the seas below were black with the coming night, but frothing with whitecaps, the skies above heavy and turning purple. There would be no stars that night, and no moon. The night would soon be black.
Torches had been lit, both within and outside the castle. There seemed to be lights below them, on the beach.
They had just arrived at Islay an hour ago, at dusk, having left Lismore just after sunrise. She was frozen from the wind, the mist and the snow, and she remained disbelieving. As she stared at the Atlantic Ocean, she thought, this is a godforsaken place, one well deserved by a godforsaken man—one who takes a pregnant woman and her small children hostage.
How could she attain her sister’s freedom?
The sooner he demanded a ransom, the better.
The three boys had all climbed onto one bed, and Mary now sat down with them, still wrapped in her fur. “Thank