Highlander Unmasked (19 page)

He moved his rook. “Has anyone ever told you that you have an active imagination?”

Meg countered his move by putting pressure on his remaining bishop. “No,” she said, refusing to be deterred. “Now, answer my question.”

“I came to court to find work, I went to the hall to get away from Dougal—as you now know, I despise the man.”

“I don’t believe that is all of it.”

“Believe what you want, but it’s the truth.” He shrugged with such indifference that Meg knew she was on to something.

She shook her head. “No, it’s not.” Her eyes raked his face, searching for a crack in the mask. “But I’ll discover the truth, don’t you doubt it.”

But her threat didn’t seem to concern him. The corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “Meg?”

“What?” She looked down at the board, and her mouth fell open.
Impossible.

“Checkmate.”

“I can’t believe I missed it,” her mother lamented an hour later. Elizabeth had just finished filling her in about Alex’s unexpected coup.

Meg looked at her mother and shook her head. She was taking far too much pleasure in Meg’s defeat. “It’s just a game, Mother.”

“Just a game!” her mother exclaimed with mock incredulity. “How many times have I heard you and your father go on about the game of kings? The great arbiter of intellect. ‘You can tell much about a person by how they play chess,’” she mimicked. “Now will you admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“Don’t be obtuse, Margaret. Why, admit that Alex MacLeod is the perfect match for you, of course.”

“Simply because he beat me at chess? I’m not perfect, Mother, I do lose occasionally.”

Though Meg spoke in jest, her mother sobered. “There is nothing wrong with not being perfect, Meg.”

But there is,
Meg thought automatically, thinking of her beloved brother. “Of course there isn’t,” she agreed.

Rosalind’s perpetually smiling countenance slipped, becoming unusually grave. “You strive so hard not to fail, to always do the right thing. Only recently have I realized why. But you do not need to put so much pressure on yourself, Meg. I love both of my children, and so does your father—even if he doesn’t always know how to show it.”

Meg hoped so, for Ian’s sake. But why did her father’s love always have to be filtered by disappointment and conditions?

Meg walked into the small solar, seeing Ian seated at her father’s desk, a quill in his hand, and his fair head bent over a piece of parchment. Dread crept over her as she realized that another lesson was taking place.

“No, Ian. Not like that,” her father said, trying to be patient. “You’ve added wrong again. One merk is thirteen shillings, four pence. So the rent on twenty-four merks of land is…”

Meg could hear the helplessness in her brother’s voice. “I can’t do it, Father.”

“Of course you can.” Her father’s voice was harder this time. “Try again.”

Ian’s face twisted with frustration. He tried again. Meg’s pulse raced anxiously as he scratched out a few numbers on the parchment. She hated to watch him struggle. She knew he was close to tears, and her father hated when Ian cried. Braw lads of sixteen years did not cry.

“You remember, Ian,” Meg jumped in. “You did it perfectly yesterday.” She bent over and broke down the equation for him. Ian could multiply and divide well enough, it was just figuring out what to do that could be overwhelming for him. In a matter of minutes, he said proudly, “Fifteen pounds Scots, six shillings.”

Her father nodded, satisfied, but his smile was reserved for Meg.

Her mother didn’t want to see the truth. Her father didn’t know what to do with Ian. Meg had spent her childhood protecting her brother from his disappointment. Not allowing her father to feel the absence of an heir ensured that he would not focus on Ian’s limitations. But Meg didn’t want to talk about her father and brother. “You are making too much of this, Mother. It was just a game.”

“But surely you must be reconsidering Alex as a potential suitor, Meg?” Elizabeth asked. “Any man who can beat you at chess must be an exceptional strategist.”

Elizabeth’s question forced Meg to acknowledge the truth. Initially, she’d discounted Alex, considering him too much of a warmonger who didn’t possess the necessary acumen to deal with the king’s men. But she’d been wrong. Behind the strong sword arm and impressive physique lurked an incredibly sharp mind. Sharp enough to best her at chess, employing a brilliant strategic defense to counter her aggressive bishop’s attack. Meg hadn’t just lost, she’d been routed. Moreover, her mother and Elizabeth were right: His undeniable skill impressed her.

There was much about Alex MacLeod that impressed her.

Her mother stood before her, arms crossed over her chest, looking remarkably pleased with herself. “I’m right, Meg. Admit it. Alex MacLeod would make a perfect husband.”

Part of her wanted to agree, but the other part still wasn’t so sure. There were too many unknowns. If only she could figure out why she was so drawn to him. “I’ll allow that there is more to him than the hardened warrior I first assumed. But there is another problem—he isn’t looking for a wife.”

“He might not be looking for a wife, but that doesn’t have to prevent him from finding one. And since he’s arrived at court, he’s made no secret of his interest in you.” Her mother’s gaze was full of tenderness. “You seem more relaxed with Alex. Less worried. Why, I’ve even seen him wheedle a smile or two from you.” She shook her head with obvious dismay. “You would do well to laugh more, my love. I have warned your father that he demands far too much from you. You are too young to have locked yourself away from the pleasures of the world and devoted your life to the management of Dunakin.”

“I enjoy what I do, Mother.”

“I know you do, child, but I believe there is more to it than that.”

Meg bristled uncomfortably, unsure of exactly what her mother might reveal but knowing that she did not want to hear it. Especially if it involved more talk about Ian.

“I hope you will listen to your mother, Meg,” Elizabeth said as she moved toward the door. “I would like nothing more than to have you as a sister. But Jamie deserves to be loved.”

Not giving Meg the opportunity to respond, Elizabeth closed the door behind her, leaving Meg alone with Rosalind. Meg felt a twinge of guilt. Elizabeth was right, Jamie did deserve to be loved. And Meg would see to it that he was.

She glanced at her mother warily.

“Don’t look so defensive, love. I don’t want to upset you; I’m only considering your happiness. I want you to laugh more and worry less. You take on so much to protect your brother. If I’d realized sooner why you pushed yourself so hard, I would have intervened long ago.”

The unusual vehemence in her voice surprised Meg.

Rosalind shook her head sadly. “If only I’d been able to give your father more sons. I blame myself.”

“There is nothing to blame,” Meg said unthinkingly, wanting to comfort her clearly distressed mother.

But Rosalind cut off her denial. “I can see what you are doing even if you cannot. I know that you are only trying to protect your brother by taking his responsibilities upon yourself, and yes, I should have realized why you pushed yourself so hard a long time ago. The pressure of always being the perfect daughter is too much. You have repressed your own desires for your brother’s sake.”

“No,” Meg exclaimed vehemently, “you are wrong, Mother. I enjoy the work I do. I want the responsibility of managing Dunakin for myself. It has nothing to do with Ian.”

“You may have convinced yourself of that, but I believe it has everything to do with Ian. You will settle for a man you do not love, thinking that you are doing right by Dunakin. You have blinded yourself to everything except finding the perfect man to take the place that your brother will never be able to fully occupy.” Rosalind sighed. She clasped Meg’s hands and stared deep into her eyes. “But no one is perfect, Meg, including you. I hope you do not wait until it is too late before you realize that you have made a mistake and married the wrong man, for all the wrong reasons.”

Meg hated being scrutinized; she only wanted to do what was right for her clan. Why did it have to be so difficult? She stood up and headed for the door, needing to breathe.

“Where are you going?” her mother asked.

“To put this riding gown to use.”

“But it’s getting late. Wait until tomorrow and I will go with you.”

Meg gave her mother a reassuring smile. “I won’t be long.” Just long enough to get her mind back on track.

Chapter 10

It was well past midday before Alex neared the Sheep’s Heid Inn. He’d taken a circuitous route from the palace to make sure he had not been followed. The meeting he’d arranged with Robbie couldn’t have come at a better time. Thanks to Lizzie and Meg, the missive for his brother that Alex carried in his leather sporran now contained valuable information.

Originally, Alex had planned to ride out after breaking his fast, but he hadn’t been able to prevent himself from checking on Meg first. He’d vowed to protect her, and it was his duty to see to her safety. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

It was foolish, especially after his error last night in thinking that Meg was in danger. At first he thought his fears well-founded, when the man he was following led him toward the wing housing the ladies’ bedchambers. Moreover, like the man Alex had seen in the tavern, this man was large and heavyset with red hair. As the light improved, Alex was able to get a better look at him. He was of middling years, with a blunt nose and a face that bore the unmistakable scars of a warrior. But just as Alex was about to detain him and question him about his purpose, the man joined up with a few of the Mackinnon guardsmen that Alex had ordered to keep watch on Meg and her mother.

They’d introduced him as Thomas Mackinnon, only just arrived from Dunakin with a message from his chief. Information that Rosalind Mackinnon corroborated only minutes later when she returned to her chamber from the masque. The man Alex had suspected of intending to harm Meg was actually a trusted Mackinnon guardsman—which made his desire to see Meg this morning ridiculous.

He couldn’t explain it, but he needed to see her for himself. Perhaps it was better if he didn’t try. But this time, his unreasonable concern for Meg was rewarded. He couldn’t believe it when he’d walked into the solar and heard the information he’d been most eager to hear casually bandied about in conversation. Thanks to wee Lizzie, Alex now knew when the ships were leaving. Sometime in mid-August, the Fife Adventurers would set sail for Lewis.

And he would be waiting for them.

Alex approached the inn from the rear. He hoped Robbie hadn’t had any problem finding the place; he wanted to pass on the missive and return to court as soon as possible. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Meg alone. He would stay long enough only for his mount to be watered and to pass Robbie the wax-sealed note for his brother. The badge of MacLeod—the boar head emblazoned with the clan motto, “Hold Fast”—would prove to his brother that the carefully worded message indeed came from him.

The message should reach Skye well in advance of Rory’s departure. In less than two weeks, Rory and Isabel were due to arrive in Edinburgh to satisfy the yearly obligation for the Island chiefs to present themselves before the Privy Council. Allegedly, it was to ensure their continued good behavior, but in reality it was a humiliating reminder of the king’s new authority over the “un-civilized” Highlands.

Alex looked forward to their arrival. It would be the first journey for Isabel in some time, as she had only recently delivered their third child in as many years. His two small nieces and the newly arrived, much anticipated nephew would remain at Dunvegan.

With any luck, Alex hoped to have more detailed information to report to his brother when he arrived. There wouldn’t be much time to formulate a plan of action if they were to beat the Fife Adventurers to Lewis, but Alex knew that whatever action Rory and the other Island chiefs decided to take, he would play an integral part. And this time he would not let his kin down.

Alex battled the inclination to leave for Lewis immediately. But he must not act precipitously. He would leave nothing to chance. There was time yet. So he would stay, waiting patiently for Rory to arrive so he could receive his orders and coordinate their plans. Until then, he would see what further information he could discover. Including what had brought Dougal MacDonald to court. Alex suspected that the arrival of a MacDonald at court was not a coincidence. If the MacDonalds intended to double-cross the Island chiefs, Alex intended to know about it.

And in the meantime…

There was Meg to consider. Once Jamie returned, Alex would forgo his temporary role of protector. Until then, he knew he’d have to tread carefully. He’d come dangerously close to compromising her the last time they’d been together. But it wasn’t just his lust that he was worried about. Thinking back on their chess match, Alex realized just how easy it would be to grow complacent. He’d enjoyed matching wits with her. Far too much.