Adanel blinked, shocked that Dugan was listening to her input. Her father never asked, let alone listened, to anyone for their opinion, especially not a woman. Laurel had said that the secret to the McTiernays’ success was not in their leadership, strength, or power, but the women they were married to, and that she was now part of that unique group. “Outwardly our men appear almost invincible, but we wives are their strength. Without us, they are vulnerable,” Laurel had told her. “But remember, without them, we are too.”
It was hard for Adanel to believe that she was now married to one of those invincible men. As a McTiernay wife, it would no longer be acceptable to sit and silently observe. It was time for people to learn who she was as well if Adanel intended to be lady of the castle and all that the title entailed.
“I . . . I will,” Adanel finally said to Dugan. “But I really do believe those numbers will be few. Most of my clansmen and women just want the opportunity to provide for their families and lead a safe, happy life. They will be hesitant at first, but what you are offering will be accepted once they believe it is real. However, many still will not want to relinquish their name. Mackbaythes can trace their roots back generations, and some take great pride in their ancestry. They are the ones I would be most concerned about. They may like all you have to offer—the protection of the McTiernays, even a good profit, and a more prestigious port—but they will not like . . . or agree to be McTiernays. One cannot just demand they change who they are.”
Dugan crossed his arms. “I’m not asking them to change families, just clans. And while it may not have been easy, the nomads of Torridon did so, as well as the clans of Farr. Your people will do the same, or they will have to find somewhere else to be Mackbaythes. Only McTiernays will live at Bàgh Fìon.” He pressed his lips together before asking, “Are you one of the ones struggling with letting go of being a Mackbaythe?”
Adanel’s brows slanted down. “Not as much as you might think and not nearly as much as my clansmen expect I would. Ever since I was little I have considered myself a MacLeod, like my uncle and my mother. When I think of Mackbaythes, I think of my brother, father, and to a degree my grandfather, who were driven by greed and power. My struggle is not letting go of who I was. It’s becoming a McTiernay that is daunting,” she said with a shiver.
Without thought, Dugan reached out and rubbed her arms brusquely. “And why is that? You seemed to get along quite well with the other McTiernay wives.”
He had watched Adanel interact with Laurel, Ellenor, Brighid, and the rest. Seeing her being welcomed into their tight-knit group had lifted a weight he had not known he had been carrying. Those women had uncanny insight into others, being able to quickly identify those with suspicious ulterior motives. He had witnessed Ellenor do it multiple times for Cole, and her relaxed posture around Adanel convinced him, more than anything else, his new wife was not typically disloyal or untrustworthy. It was not enough for him to risk his heart again, but it gave him hope that he and Adanel could make this next year work despite their history.
Adanel looked away as she recalled some of the words spoken and looks she had been given. “I may no longer be seen as the enemy by the women, but it will take far more than marrying you to make me a McTiernay to the men.”
“It will also take time for me to be truly recognized as laird,” Dugan said reassuringly. “But the results of our actions shall win them over.”
Seeing he misunderstood, Adanel shook her head. “I’m not talking about proving myself,” she clarified, looking him directly in the eye. “I am disliked. Hearing the truth did very little to change the minds of the lairds allied to Conor McTiernay. Certainly, none of them trust me and probably never will. I was glad to leave despite meeting Laurel, Ellenor, and the women. They were nice, but their husbands . . .” Adanel shivered. “I hope never to see any of them again.”
“As Lady McTiernay, you will.”
“Not unless they venture up to Bàgh Fìon they won’t, and I doubt a single one will make the effort.”
Dugan took a step back. Her tone had been clipped, and the scowl on her face made it clear that Adanel found the McTiernay brothers and their allies distasteful. Instinctively, he went on the defensive. “What did you expect? You are a Mackbaythe.”
“I thought I was a McTiernay.”
He ignored her quip. “Your father and brother attacked Conan and almost killed Conor!”
“That was not me!”
“They know that!” he yelled back. “What does that have to do with anything? Why do you care?”
“You really don’t get it, do you?” Adanel asked pointedly. The last bits of her fortitude that had been suppressing her true thoughts and feelings had just broke. “You think you were betrayed?” she asked rhetorically. “What I did was nothing compared to your betrayal of me.”
“I never once deceived you. It was you who manipulated me by toying with my emotions and making me believe one thing when you knew the truth was altogether different. You lied to get your way, uncaring of the cost to others.”
“I did not lie,” Adanel denied. “And while my actions were for my benefit, they were not to your detriment.”
“I did the same thing as you. I stayed quiet when I could have spoken.”
Adanel’s brown eyes grew even darker. “Your pride might have been injured by what I did, but little else. Nothing about what you do, how people treat you, or how you are perceived by others changed by my little deception.” Adanel scowled darkly. “Not like what your betrayal did to me.”
“Don’t blame me,” Dugan declared in a low, savage tone. “It was your decisions and your lies that brought you to this point. Not mine.”
“But I had reasons—good ones, even if you disagreed with them. But what you did?” Adanel looked toward the sky and threw her hands up in the air in defeat for she knew Dugan still did not fathom what he had done to her. “That cannot be undone, and it will haunt me forever. Every McTiernay knows me and will remember me from that day. That’s when their judgments were made, and first opinions rarely change. I will never be able to meet any of those people again without the memory of being interrogated in that great hall coming back. I will forever be judged guilty for accusations you knew were untrue. You could have changed that. You could have defended me or at least stood up and made it clear that you did not agree with the maliciousness of their charges. You should have known I would never have attacked anyone. But what was worse”—she got up close to him, her anger and pain clear to see—“you did not even want to give me a chance to defend myself. You wanted them to attack and judge and presume all just to assuage your wounded pride.”
Dugan held her gaze. Her words were well aimed. He could not deny anything she was saying, and while he had regrets, she had yet to acknowledge that it was her own actions that led to that day.
“Even at my own wedding—days later—I was made to feel unwelcomed and distrusted. You once again had the ability to stop the hatred, and yet you still remained silent.”
Adanel reached down to grab her bag, which she had dropped when lacing up her gown. Nothing she was saying was making a difference. Dugan had made up his mind to be hurt and resentful. The man actually believed he had a right to his pain more than she had to hers. “You don’t love me,” she said softly as the truth of the situation sank in. “I’m not sure you can. You want perfection, and that doesn’t exist.” She threw her bag over her shoulder and added, “For the next year, I’ll be your wife and support you however I can, but that is all I can give you. You destroyed the potential for anything more.”
Chapter Eleven
Dugan sat on his horse beside Garrett and watched as Loman led the small army into the valley below. Just over a month ago, he had sat at this very spot in hopes that Garrett would agree to help him find and abduct Adanel. This time his arrival did not entail an infiltration scheme with minimal impact and interaction. This time, his arrival meant change at every level, for everyone.
G
arrett pointed to the port. “It’s empty.”
The village around the port Bàgh Fìon looked busy, and there were MacLeod ships he could see in the distant horizon, but Garrett was right. None were docked, and none looked like they were making their way to the port. Those ships were acting as a blockade.
“I suspect the reason is simple,” Dugan said. “It’s the solution that is going to be intensely complicated.”
Garrett grimaced in agreement. “Damn MacLeods. I’m surprised they heard the news and reacted to it so soon.”
Dugan was no stranger to ports, having grown up working in one. However, he had never thought to go near one again. It was where his mother and brother taught him the meaning and pain of betrayal. The memories were definitely there and yet, he did not feel the dread and foreboding he had anticipated. Instead, Dugan felt the unexpected excitement of a challenge, and the MacLeods were definitely going to be one.
“It was quick, but predictable. My being declared laird by Conor McTiernay was not going to just be accepted by our northern neighbors. The MacLeods—more than anyone—feel they have a right to not just the port, but the Mackbaythe clan.”
“But Adanel is married to you,” Garrett countered.
“That is probably the only thing that is keeping them from outright attacking.”
Dugan knew the MacLeod embargo was just one of many hurdles he would be facing.
“Do you expect additional trouble?”
“Aye,” Dugan answered. “But Adanel will probably bear the brunt at first when she takes over the keep. Her father surrounded himself with those who will not be glad he is gone. I’ve told Brùid and the guards Loman is assigning to the castle to expect trouble and let me know if it escalates to her being in any danger, but I need to prep for what’s to come. The real danger comes from those beyond these hills and waters. Our failure is what MacCoinnich and MacLeod want, and they will both try to exploit any weaknesses within the clan to their advantage.”
“Aye, but who? How many?”
Dugan pointed toward the bay. “The docks, more specifically, those in charge of storing, selling, and shipping goods. That is where the money was. It will be the center at the majority of the corruption. Those that believe in honor and strength will have looked elsewhere for a living.”
“Not everyone who will be against you will be dishonest,” Garrett cautioned. “Many Mackbaythes can trace their roots back generations and will not be willing to just erase the names of their parents, grandparents, and those before them.”
Dugan rubbed the back of his neck. “Aye, that is what Adanel said. And while I agree, I’m not sure what to do about it.”
Garrett shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing to do. It is done. They just now have to accept it.”
“And when they test that notion?”
Garrett grinned at him. “If I knew the answer to that, I’d be laird and you’d be in charge of the recruiting and training.”
Dugan smiled back.
“The truth is that these clansmen are like those of any other clan. The people are good intentioned, but ultimately self-interested,” Garrett said in a more serious tone. “A select few will applaud your failures, and while their voices will be the loudest and seem like they speak for the masses, they don’t. Most will be waiting to see if you bring success or destruction. Only then will they act accordingly.”
“Circular logic there, Garrett. I need their trust to succeed, but to succeed, I need to gain their trust.”
Garrett chuckled. “Aye. You also need to make sure they understand the alternative is the MacCoinniches, or possibly the MacLeods. Neither of those lairds has a thought for these families. For them, this port is a means to an end. For you to make this work, you need to make it your home.”
“Like you, I only agreed to be here for a short while, no longer.”
Garrett shifted in his saddle and looked at his friend square in the eye. “And just how are you going to demand their loyalty when you give them none in return?”
Dugan returned his friend’s stare with one of his own. “I could say the same to you,” he challenged. “You promised to stay while I was here. If I were to stay longer, would you?”
Garrett snorted, threw his head back, and laughed, but there was no joy in the sound. “If you only knew,” he sighed. “If you only knew,” he repeated softly to himself, and raked a hand along his scalp. With a deep breath, he said, “I’ll tell you what I think you have suspected for a long time. Before you joined with Cole, there were a handful of us who fought together. Remember Leith and our small group looking out for each other?”
Dugan nodded.
“We banded together because we each had a past. All different and yet all the same.”
Again, Dugan nodded.
“I did not come from a powerful clan, but my father was successful.” Garrett pulled out his sword from its sheath and twirled it in his hand. “So successful he ensured I received the best training in the area. And while he was a hard man, I loved him. I respected him, and I’d like to think that he felt the same about me. Our family was close, but when he died I learned that the love my mother and siblings shared for me was all an illusion. I now realize it probably always was. I went through hell after my father passed away. Every decision my mother made was twisted to my brother’s favor. Every action and conversation I had was constantly condemned or viewed in the worst way. They brought up anything—even ridiculous and highly distorted things—to justify their stance.”
Garrett took a deep breath and then in a casual tone that sounded as if he was unfazed by what he was relating, he continued, “It became intolerable, and one day after once again they had made it blatantly clear I was not wanted, I left.” He chuckled. “I don’t think they were expecting that, but they should have known it would eventually happen.”
Dugan did understand. All too well for his own story was eerily similar. “And is that the reason you want to leave in a year? To return and make amends?”
Garrett shook his head. “I reached out a few times at the very beginning, but they ignored my attempts. Later, I had someone contact my mother to see what would happen. Her rejection, if possible, was even more hate-filled than before. She chooses to listen to my brother and all his maneuverings to ensure I stay away. But she did not just prefer him over me. She chose him instead of me. I have resolved myself to her only wanting one child. So I will not be returning. Ever.” He could see Dugan was skeptical and added, “I wish them no ill will, but I have been told by mutual acquaintances that my absence has not changed anything. They do not miss my company, and I no longer miss theirs.”
“Maybe if they knew what you were doing here, if you were settled and had a family and therefore posed no threat to them, that would change things.”
Garrett looked at Dugan as if he had lost his mind. “My having a family would only add to the reasons I would stay completely away. No child deserves to have that kind of hate in their lives. And that’s what they would have because that is all my family knows. They can’t help it. It’s what happens to someone who chooses to nurture anger. After a while, it is all they know how to give.”
Dugan heard Garrett’s clipped words and their double meaning about him and Adanel. “Sounds like you are harboring more than a little resentment yourself.”
Garrett shrugged. “Not as much as you would think. I’ve made my peace about what happened and moved on. But when I do leave here, it won’t be because I was running away.”
Again, the double entendre. “If you have something to say, then say it,” Dugan stated crisply.
“I just did,” Garrett retorted, unafraid despite seeing Dugan flexing his fist. “Your anger fuels Adanel’s and hers drives yours. One of you needs to let go, and it should be you.”
“And just why should it be me?”
“Because, my friend, you are going to lose her if you don’t. And I know the loss of losing someone you love. I had no choice but to walk away, but you do.”
>
Dugan’s back straightened. “I don’t love Adanel. I might have loved who I thought she was at one time, but even those feelings are gone.”
Garrett snorted. “Adanel is exactly who you thought she was, and you know deep down along with everyone else that you love her. Even Conor McTiernay’s two little girls—what’s their names? Brenna? Bonny? Even they know you love Adanel. I heard them whispering about it while they were hiding under the tables in the hall during your wedding feast. If those two wee ones can see it, then denying it is senseless.”
Dugan’s jaw tensed. “Fine,” he barked, “but you can love someone and not want to be around them.”
Garrett shook his head. “You remind me of my mother. She prefers to hold on to her anger and have someone to blame for it.”
Unable to sit any longer, Dugan dismounted his horse and began to pace. Problem was he did not know what he felt. Was he angry at Adanel? Aye, but it did not consume him like it once had. What now plagued his thoughts was her only wanting to handfast with him. She wanted nothing permanent. She agreed to their marriage to help legitimize the McTiernay claim to the clan and Bàgh Fìon, and thereby possibly prevent a rebellion and the deaths of many. Her reasoning had been logical, but it had also been like a punch in the stomach. Instinctively, Dugan had proclaimed that he, too, only wanted to handfast. But that had been a lie.
The following week in preparation to leave had been difficult. Their wedding had been manageable as long as he kept his distance. But seeing Adanel as they journeyed back to her home had been akin to torture. His desire for her was not dissipating, but growing. And while he wanted to grab her and share the physical bliss he knew they would have, it was clear Adanel did not feel the same.
She loathed him. Her looks of disgust and betrayal this morning had hurt like hell, and as a result, it rekindled the pain she had caused him over the winter. He had reacted without thought and let the pain renew his simmering anger.
How to Marry a Highlander Page 21
