Michelle Willingham - Highlanders

He had thrown his plaid about his shoulders. Irritation covered his face. “Enough. Yer kisses mean a great deal to me, otherwise, I’d have spent a brief hour with ye and sent ye from this chamber. But I cannot release ye and yer sister, not yet, and I am not going to be weakened by a woman, Juliana—not even a woman like ye.”

“So we remain enemies by day, and lovers by night?” She trembled with anger and disappointment. But had she truly expected more?

“Are ye not well fed? Protected? Clothed? Are yer sister and her children lacking?”

“They lack William—her husband—the boys’ father!”

He was in disbelief. “We spent most of the night together—and ye fight with me now?”

She flung the fur off and stood up, entirely naked—and aware that she had never before flaunted herself this way. “Last night meant nothing, and we remain enemies.” She walked past him to retrieve her clothes. She looked over her shoulder at him. “And that, of course, is your decision.”

He seized her and pulled her into his embrace. “Witch,” he said, kissing her. “I have many enemies, Juliana, and yer not one of them.”

She looked into his blue eyes and whispered, “Prove it.”

He darkened and released her. “Ye had better leave or I will take ye again.”

Juliana seized her clothes, shrugged on her leine, and girdle and boots in hand, she ran from the room. In the hall outside, she faltered, feeling as if she wished to cry. But had she truly expected him to free them, in return for sex?

She was reminded of the huge ransom Mary would eventually bring, a far greater one than her own. She was the Earl of Buchan’s daughter by marriage, as well as MacDougall’s sister. Of course he wished to keep Mary as a hostage until her ransom was paid.

And now, she wondered why his feelings for her seemed to matter so much.

“I thought I heard you,” Mary said quietly.

Juliana started and flushed. She had been caught outside Alasdair’s chamber, her hair down, her girdle, mantel and boots in hand.

“Come inside, Juliana, before the fire, or you will catch cold,” Mary said softly.

Juliana followed her sister into the chamber, taking a seat before the fire and putting on her boots. A pale gray light was finally easing into the chamber, a harbinger of the sunrise.

Mary moved the room’s other chair close to hers and took it. The boys remained asleep in the bed. “Do you love him?”

Juliana gasped.

Mary took her hand. “You have always been my wild little sister, but you have never been a flirt. You have kept the men away. Yet you spent the night with him.”

Juliana trembled. “He is a difficult man to resist,” she managed to answer. “Oh, Mary, are you terribly angry with me?”

“I am frightened for you,” she said. “And you did not answer me.”

Juliana began shaking her head. “How can I love him? He is the eldest son of our worst enemy. We have been at war for years and years. Hundreds of good MacDougall boys and men have died at their hands!” Falling in love with Alasdair was unthinkable.

Mary sighed. “I never expected to fall in love with William—Buchan’s third son who was intended for the church!”

“I am not in love,” Juliana said tersely.

“Did he seduce you?” Mary was incredulous.

Juliana knew how dangerous such an accusation was—especially if her brother ever heard it. “No! I wanted to be with him. Mary, I am eighteen years old. I should have been married last year, and most women would have been married years ago! I simply don’t know why I desire Alasdair, but I do.”

Mary studied her. “And what happens when we are freed? When you go home? When our brother arranges the right marriage for you?”

Juliana stiffened. She had not considered any of Mary’s questions. “I will be pleased when we are freed, and I cannot wait to have a husband,” she said, but as she spoke, she felt as if she were responding with rehearsed answers, ones her sister wished to hear. “You know I want children of my own!”

“If Alexander ever learns of your affair, he will be furious. But he will forgive you, I am certain, and I am as certain that he will kill Alasdair Og.”

Juliana shook her head as she imagined her brother and Alasdair in the worst blood feud imaginable—one fought over her innocence—or lack thereof. “I know you will never tell him.”

“Of course not! But will you be able to deceive your husband when the time comes? How can you hope to have a good marriage, when it starts with a lie?”

Juliana leapt to her feet. “I don’t know! I haven’t thought about any of this!”

Mary also stood. “I know you haven’t. I love you so, Juliana, but you are impulsive and reckless, and I am afraid for you.”

“He won’t hurt me.” She felt certain of that.

“I think you are right. He is our enemy, but he is an honorable man. Still, I am worried. You must be careful with him.”

Juliana did not understand. “What are you saying?”

“Alasdair does not strike me as a casual man.”

Mary smiled grimly, as Juliana realized that she was right. There was nothing casual about Alasdair. He was a man of careful ambition and keen intellect. He would not behave recklessly, or undertake any path lightly. His choices would be deliberate ones.

Even the choice of having an affair with the sister of his enemy.

* * *

THE NEXT FEW days passed without any major incident, as both sisters awaited word from their brother and William, to learn their response to Alasdair’s ransom demands—to learn of their fates. Of course there was little doubt that the ransoms would be paid, sooner or later. However, Alasdair had not revealed his exact demands, and neither Juliana nor Mary had dared to directly ask him.

The women were allowed to move freely about the castle, the children to play upon the beach. Lady MacDonald was an amiable hostess, sharing tales with the women and the boys about life in the isles, and including Mary and Juliana in many household tasks. Because it snowed heavily for several days, an unusual occurrence for March, everyone was kept indoors most of the time. And with such weather, it was unlikely any messenger would be able to arrive.

Alasdair gave the boys small carved horses and men, toys that kept them occupied for hours. And at night, when everyone was abed, Juliana stole into Alasdair’s room, where he was waiting impatiently for her.

It finally stopped snowing one late afternoon. Juliana stared outside her chamber window, pleased to see the gray clouds dispersing, revealing patches of blue sky. Tomorrow might be sunny.

Mary came to stand beside her. “Maybe now we will receive word from Alexander and William.”

Juliana put her arm around her. “Of course we will. I am going down to help Lady MacDonald and the maids in the kitchens. Will you come?”

Mary hesitated. “I think I am going to lie down.”

Juliana hugged her. “Rest.” In the ten days they had been held captive, Mary’s girth had obviously increased. No one could mistake that she was pregnant now.

She went downstairs. Realizing her mood was as bright as the next day promised to be, she sobered. She was beginning to feel like a guest, not a hostage, and maybe she had better remind herself that was not the case.

Then she heard Alasdair shouting.

She stiffened, as he so rarely raised his voice. But now his brother, Angus Og, was shouting back at him. What could they be arguing about? Shocked, she hurried forward, intending to end the dispute.

“Are ye a madman now?” Angus Og cried. “Or perhaps, ye think yerself immortal, like an old Celt god!” His blue eyes flashed and he stood as if braced for battle.

“I think ye speak too freely, or, mayhap, yer filled with envy!” Alasdair snapped. “Achanduin Castle is a fine stronghold!”