Terri Brisbin - Claiming His Highland Bride

‘Better a quick death in the river than a slow one married to Gilbert.’

Alan whirled around to see who had spoken those words, both shocked and intrigued that someone else had come to the same realisation that he had. But, of course, he had never said it aloud. Magnus met his stare and nodded.

‘Is there anything else you can tell us, Alan?’ Brodie asked, drawing Alan’s attention back. Not ‘want to tell us’. Brodie understood his predicament, for he was a man caught between honour and loyalty.

‘Nay, my lord,’ he said, bowing then to the powerful man.

‘Then I pray you to seek out your cousin and escort her to our chambers.’

Without another word, Alan accepted the dismissal and walked to the door. Fergus stepped aside and opened it for him. It closed behind him and he’d taken only two paces when the uproar within the chamber erupted. Between the deep distrust that yet ran deep between their clans and that which they held for Gilbert, the shouting and arguing did not surprise him. Knowing Brodie, he would allow each man a say before coming to any conclusions. And before coming back to Alan.

He walked back to the hall and found Arabella deep in conversation with Rob’s wife and sister. When they all looked up at him at the very same moment with their gazes narrowed, a strange fear shot through him. Oh, he’d faced death and dismemberment in his life already, but the thought of being in the aim of these three women terrified him...as it would any sensible man who had even a bit of self-preservation in his blood.

‘Is the discussion finished then?’ Arabella asked first.

‘Nay, it continues without me.’

‘If it involves the Camerons, why are you not there?’ she asked, probing into uncomfortable matters as she always did—with a remarkable sense of what would be best left untouched. He did not question how she knew Brodie discussed the Camerons, for she had as many sources of knowledge and gossip as her husband did, possibly more.

‘The Mackintosh dismissed me.’

The three let out gasps as one and leaned back in their chairs, surprised by this news.

‘And you know not why?’ Eva asked.

Rob’s wife was no stranger to the machinations and manipulations of clan chiefs. Her own father had forced her into marriage with Brodie’s closest friend for his own benefit. For them, though, the marriage had turned out for the best.

‘I am not privy to Brodie’s reasons,’ he said. Not exactly the truth, but close enough for now. ‘Mayhap Arabella can discover it when he returns to their chambers?’ Alan held out his hand to his cousin. ‘Which is where he’s asked me to take you.’

The women looked one to the other before looking back at him. He continued to wait for Arabella to take his hand. Arabella took pity on him and rose from her chair then, accepting his arm and nodding to Eva and Margaret. From the expressions on those two faces, Alan understood that they expected that she would reveal the reason he was expelled from Brodie’s gathering and what was truly happening.

She remained silent as they walked through the hall, up the stairway that led to their chambers. But he knew that restraint would not last long once they reached the privacy promised in her room. Tempted to leave the door ajar, he waited for her to enter before standing before it.

‘Oh, do close the door, Alan. You know that will not stop me from having my say or asking my questions of you.’

He did as she ordered and watched as she crossed the room and poured wine into two waiting cups. She carried them to the small table in the corner and sat, arching a brow to give him another order without words. Alan sat and accepted one of the cups.

‘So, Brodie truly dismissed you? What were his words?’ she asked, taking a sip from her cup.

‘He simply bade me to bring you here.’

Her foot tapped impatiently on the floor between them. Arabella would think on this until she was ready to pounce. Or until her husband arrived.

‘You will not reveal to me the purpose of calling you all together?’

‘I will say it involves the Camerons and the Mackintoshes.’

Alan waited for the explosion of temper from his cousin, but none came. Instead, she pursed her lips and looked over his shoulder towards the door. He turned and saw Brodie standing there.

‘Come now, Bella,’ Brodie said, walking to where they sat. ‘Abusing your cousin will not loosen his lips. You should know that by now.’ Alan tried to stand, as he should in the presence of the chieftain, but Brodie’s hand on his shoulder kept him sitting. ‘He has been in this same situation before and he is now and always be loyal to his clan first.’

Somehow, when Brodie spoke those words, ones that echoed his own thoughts and vow, guilt washed over him. And he had no reason to feel that at all. He’d helped the Mackintoshes a dozen times over and would again if he could. He would not, however, betray his own clan or disobey a direct order from his own chieftain. He did stand then, pushing free of Brodie’s hand to look him in the eye.

‘Aye. I am loyal to the Camerons, Brodie.’ Anger built in his gut then and he wanted to rage. The strange thing was that he was not certain who his target should be.

‘Hold,’ Brodie said, putting his hand up between them. ‘I meant nothing more by my words. And I ken that your uncle’s actions will cause strife between us.’

‘My uncle’s actions?’ Arabella rose now and approached her husband. ‘What has he done now?’

‘Gilbert has been negotiating with Hugh MacMillan of Knap for his daughter’s hand in marriage.’ Brodie’s gaze never left his own.

‘Another marriage?’ Arabella gasped at this news. ‘How old is she?’ she whispered. The words lashed out at him and Alan could not help but flinch. How old?

They’d never spoken of Gilbert’s penchant for young women openly and it should have surprised Alan to hear it from her, but somehow it did not. Arabella missed little, whether here in Drumlui Keep and village or at the home of her childhood Achnacarry. She’d learned early in life that she would be the wife of a powerful man with many under her control and supervision and had learned the skills needed to live that life. Breaking from Brodie’s stare, Alan looked at his cousin.

‘It matters not for The MacMillan’s daughter drowned on her way to the betrothal.’

Arabella began to say something, but she pressed her lips together and swallowed. He could guess that her words would be close to those uttered by Magnus just a short time ago in a different chamber.

‘God rest her soul,’ she whispered, lifting her hand to her head, chest and shoulders in the gesture that usually accompanied such prayers. A few moments passed before she reached out to touch her husband’s arm. ‘There must be more to this if you are so concerned. Tell me the rest of it, Brodie.’

‘I suspect there is more to this than a simple betrothal, Bella,’ Brodie said. ‘There have been whispers for months about dissatisfaction with the treaty between our clans. But nothing more. Nothing substantial. Nothing I can prove.’

‘Alan, do you know of this?’ she asked him next.

‘In all candour, Arabella,’ he said, glancing first at Brodie, then back to her, ‘I know nothing of plans to undermine or weaken the treaty.’ He took a breath in and let it out. ‘As to the other, I know only what Brodie told you.’ He looked at Brodie once more. ‘In either of these, though, my uncle does not keep my counsel or invite me to share in his, Brodie.’

‘I wanted to tell you that you have a place here, Alan,’ The Mackintosh said. ‘No matter what actions your uncle carries out or treachery afoot, you are one Cameron that will always be welcomed here and in the Chattan Confederation.’