At the Highlander's Mercy (18 page)

T
he next two days passed by quickly for Rob—he barely stopped in one place for more than a few minutes. Tasks awaited him around every corner.

The meeting with the elders went well. Though they would not relent and release Lilidh as he wanted them to do, he did gain their support for him to handle the coming negotiations with the MacLeries. Even Murtagh begrudgingly accepted his plan to get out of this peacefully.

Symon seemed genuinely stunned by news of the attack when he returned to Keppoch Keep with Dougal and the others and Rob could discover no link between Symon and the stranger. Still, with his suspicions growing,
Rob thought it best to set some watchers on Symon over the next few days. Choosing a few trustworthy men, he ordered them to keep watch over what his cousin did and with whom he met.

One decision he’d made was that he would not sign the official betrothal contract with Tyra. No matter what breach existed between his line and Symon’s, marriage to Tyra would not heal it. The thought of marrying once Lilidh left his life for good held little appeal to him.

Tensions ran high as the days passed with the pending arrival of the MacLeries and possibly war at their gates. Fights broke out among some of the farmers and warriors. Supplies went missing.

His only respite was with Lilidh.

After that night, she held nothing back from him. Never seemed uncomfortable with him, in bed or out. They would lose themselves in their growing passion as soon as one touched the other and hours passed spent wrapped around each other in his bed.

He began to take his evening meal with her in his chambers so they could discuss his plans to deal with her family … and his. She’d organised all the letters between her father and
his and now there seemed a pattern to them. Though he remembered nothing that could have caused it, other than his own immaturity, clearly some deep, personal insult had happened between his father and Connor.

Had youthful stupidity really caused the rift between them? And how could he, or could he, solve this puzzle before Connor arrived?

Just before full dark, two nights later, the MacLeries arrived on his land and set up camp. He stopped counting the fires of the encampment when he reached two score. They approached no further and made no attempt to send word or greeting to him, but their appearance and numbers terrified those within the walls.

No one slept that night.

Lilidh had stood watching at the window for hours before he coaxed her to bed. Once in his arms, she had become like a wild thing, loving him with a desperation he’d never seen before.

When morning and the call came, she sat with haunted eyes and watched him leave the bedchamber.

The Beast of the Highlands had come calling at Keppoch Keep—and God help them all.

Rob emptied the hall of everyone and only permitted a few of the elders, Dougal, Symon—now tanist and heir if Rob died or did not produce a son—Tyra and several guards to remain. He gave explicit instructions on what he expected to happen and what he expected of them. Dougal left to give the oath of truce so that the MacLeries could enter under the promise of hospitality.

With the rest seated behind him, Rob stood and waited for them to enter and the real battle to begin. The sounded of their approach echoed ahead of them into the hall. The nervous whispers behind him ceased as they entered and approached.

A huge man led the way in and Rob would have recognised Rurik Erengilsson anywhere. At a half more than six feet tall and still carrying the weight and muscles of his youth, the half-Norse, half-Scottish leader of all MacLerie warriors had lost nothing with age. Rob could feel every bruise the man had ever given him in training and knew him to be a deadly adversary. Rurik stopped and stepped aside as the negotiator walked forwards.

Duncan MacLerie knew how to bargain and would wrestle the best terms in any treaty for
the MacLeries. Years spent building a reputation as such, he’d also trained his stepdaughter and they had travelled extensively on the Earl of Douran’s business concerns. Rob had learned much from Duncan’s tutelage during his time being fostered in Lairig Dubh and facing this man on opposite sides of a dispute did not please him.

Rob waited for Duncan to stand aside so he could greet Connor and take his measure, but when the man did move, a woman stood behind him, arms crossed and fire in her eyes.

‘Jocelyn MacCallum, Lady MacLerie, the Countess of Douran,’ Duncan said loudly. The gasps behind him let him know that they understood her position. Rob glanced back and motioned to them to rise in respect for the woman in their midst.

‘Lady MacLerie,’ he said, bowing to her. ‘I did not expect you.’ Jocelyn walked right up to him and glared at him. Barely reaching his chest, she did not let her lack of height stop her from trying to intimidate him.

‘You may have remembered your manners,
Laird
Matheson, but clearly you have lost your wits,’ she said before delivering a stinging slap to his face.

Both Rurik and Duncan began to move in
his direction, and hers, but he waved them off. Bowing once more to her, Rob understood the fear that lay deep in her eyes. She reacted as a mother whose bairn was in danger. He could and would excuse it, once. When she opened her mouth to speak, he decided he needed to take control over this and find out when Connor would arrive.

‘Lady MacLerie, you are overwrought from your journey and your worries about your daughter. I would remind you she is still in my custody.’

‘If you have harmed her—’ she began. Duncan furiously whispered her name and Rurik sighed and rolled his eyes, but she ignored them. ‘There is nothing and no one that will stop me from finding you, Rob Matheson, and making you regret what you’ve done.’

‘Laird Matheson,’ Duncan said in a calm voice. It felt very strange indeed to be called such by him. ‘Is it possible to allow Lady MacLerie to see to Lady MacGregor?’

‘Tomas,’ Rob called out without taking his gaze off Jocelyn. ‘Escort Lady MacLerie to see her daughter.’

Since he had fully expected this situation, he’d already given Tomas orders about the length of the visit and that, under no circumstances,
should he leave them alone. Jocelyn took a step towards the other doorway in the hall, but Tomas pointed towards the stairs. She’d expected Lilidh to be in their dungeon?

‘She is being held in my chambers,’ he explained. The news did not go over well with any of them. Rob waited for Jocelyn to leave before asking the question he wanted answered most.

‘When does Connor arrive?’ he asked Duncan.

The two MacLeries exchanged glances and then Duncan answered, ‘We represent the laird here. We negotiate in good faith in his name.’

Rob’s temper flared at the insult. Connor had sent his men to deal with him and sort out the problem. He did not come himself. Once more, Rob was not worthy of the time or effort. Duncan must have seen his reaction in spite of his attempts to control it and keep his expression blank. The man was an expert in understanding people so it was probably as clear as if Rob had shouted it aloud.

‘Laird.’ Tyra’s voice broke into the conversation. He had not heard her approach and had forgotten to make her and the others known to the MacLeries. ‘May I offer some food and drink to our guests while you wait for Lady MacLerie’s return?’

Rob nodded. Tyra motioned Duncan and Rurik forwards to the table that had been prepared for just this. When they were seated, Rob introduced each of his family and counsellors.

Once they had had a chance to partake, he dismissed everyone but Dougal, Symon and the elders.

‘I would speak plainly, Laird,’ Duncan began. ‘If you release the lady now, all of this is done. Connor will take no offence and you can go on your way.’

‘No offence?’ Symon asked. Rob glared at him, but it did not stop him. ‘We are offended that the laird himself did not answer our demands in person.’

‘The earl has many pressing duties, sir,’ Duncan replied in a low, respectful tone. ‘Since this is a personal issue and one of some delicacy, he thought it best—’

‘To treat the Mathesons as he was always treated us—not important enough to matter.’ Symon stood then. ‘The MacKenzies have offered to back us in this, MacLerie. They are just as powerful as you and their friendship has been offered and accepted.’

Unfortunately, the elders agreed with Symon in this and Rob felt himself losing control of
the situation. He’d not accepted the MacKenzie’s offer yet. Glancing at each of them, it was clear that someone had. He felt as though he was fighting with one hand tied to his foot and a blindfold over his eyes.

And Duncan missed none of this. The shrewd negotiator was a watcher first—he studied his opponents before beginning his work. Before giving him more time to determine all of their weaknesses, Rob stood.

‘I will send Lady MacLerie to you, Duncan. We will begin our discussions when Connor arrives.’

‘He is not coming, Rob,’ Duncan said quietly. ‘You know him—that’s not how he handles things.’

‘Surely his daughter’s safety is worth his time.’

‘Is she in danger?’ Duncan asked.

Rurik looked bothered when Duncan asked his question and Rob knew that was not a good sign. Bothered was one step away from angry and anger was dangerous in a man like Rurik. Rob had seen Rurik
angry
and did want to unleash that here in his hall. Or on his lands. Or on his clan, no matter how much they frustrated him.

‘You may go now. I will send Lady MacLerie
to you in the yard,’ he repeated. He needed to get them out of the hall and discover what behind-his-back arrangements were going on with the damned MacKenzies. Although Rurik looked ready to take his head, Duncan nodded and stood.

‘May we return later this day and speak again, Laird Matheson?’ he asked, his tone respectful and even, not meant to inflame, but to engender reasonableness.

‘Laird?’

Rob turned when Symon used the title, for he never had before, not in private and not in public. ‘We will speak in private, Symon.’ He gave a slight shake to his head to tell Symon this was not the time.

‘Until later, then,’ Duncan said as they turned to leave.

Rob watched until they left, escorted out by Dougal, and then he climbed the stairs to seek out Jocelyn in his chambers. When he arrived, he walked quietly down the hall, signalling to Tomas who stood at the door not to announce his presence. Standing silently beyond their sight, he listened as mother and daughter spoke within.

‘I told you, Mother. I am well.’

‘Those bruises say otherwise, Lilidh,’ Jocelyn chided.

‘Would you have expected me to give up without a fight? They killed my guards, almost killed my maid.’

‘Isla?’ Jocelyn asked.

‘Is recovering downstairs, Lady MacLerie,’ he said, walking in then.

They sat side by side on a long bench before one of the windows. Mother and daughter, holding hands, and leaning on each other as they talked. What had Lilidh told her about him? About them? Her gaze caught his as he walked towards them and it was unreadable. Did Jocelyn know?

‘Rob, I beg your pardon for slapping you,’ Jocelyn said, standing and letting go of Lilidh’s hand. ‘I beg you not to hold Lilidh accountable for my—’

‘Bad behaviour?’ he asked.

‘She hit you?’ Lilidh asked, as she stepped over closer and looked at his face.

‘Like daughter, like mother,’ he said

‘I have never struck you,’ Lilidh argued.

‘You tried, when you were brought here.’ Rob realised that Jocelyn was watching their actions closely—too closely. Did they wear
their intimacy like a garment so that others could see it?

‘Your men wait for you in the yard, Lady MacLerie.’ Rob turned and motioned to the door. ‘Tomas will escort you down to them.’

Though she looked as if she wanted to fight with him, Jocelyn hugged and kissed Lilidh farewell and left with Tomas. When they’d gone, he closed the door, not certain of his welcome in his own chambers.

She’d been crying, that much he could see. But had it done her any good to see her mother for such a brief time?

‘I am surprised your father allowed her to journey here,’ he said. Though …

‘I doubt that my mother gave him a choice in the matter. I could not believe my eyes when Tomas opened the door and she stood there. I expected you to return, but never did I think I would see her.’

‘And?’ Rob asked.

‘I have not seen her since I married Iain, Rob.’

Jocelyn had no idea of the state of Lilidh’s marriage. Glancing past her, he realised the bed was yet unmade. Had Jocelyn noticed and understood?

‘She asked. I told her the truth—that I’ve been sharing your bed.’

Lilidh was looking at the bed, too. Sadness tinged her words, yet her eyes did not show it. Rob slid his fingers around hers, entwining them together and kissing her hand.

‘Regrets now?’ he asked. It would not surprise him if she was having them, especially now since her mother knew.

Their time-out-of-time was over now. Duty and family called both of them. The nights of acting as if they were meant to be together was done. The acts committed in this bed would now become memories and be the only part of her left to him when she departed here.

‘Nay, no regrets, Rob.’

But she let his hand drop and then went to straighten the bedcovers without saying more. He watched her perform such a menial, everyday task and the longing nearly took him down as the bolt had.

‘I will be meeting with your cousins later. Do you have any greetings to send them? Or have you already told your mother?’

‘No. You do what you must and they will do that as well,’ she said softly.

‘Lilidh—’ He stopped because he just did not know what he could say.

He could not promise to keep her—his clan depended on giving her back in order to survive. He could not offer her his love—for she and he would both be expected to marry elsewhere. He could not tell her the truth—for it would tear her world and her heart apart.

‘Just go and do what you must, Rob.’

He turned to go, but he did want to hear her opinion on one matter before he did.