Highlander Unmasked

by Monica McCarty

  “Do I have a smudge on my face?” she asked.

  Her question snapped him from his lust-filled trance, but the ache in his groin would not be so easily dismissed. He was hard as a damn rock. “No. Why?” His voice sounded rough, even to his own ears.

  “You’re staring at me.”

  Only Meg would be so innocently blunt. Alex nearly flushed like some besotted squire and not a man with enough experience, more than enough experience, to know better. What the hell was the matter with him? Holding his expression impassive, he carefully lifted one brow. “Am I? I didn’t realize. Nice of you to point it out.”

  But Meg either missed or chose to ignore the sarcasm. “And you had quite a furious expression on your face,” she added primly. “You’re liable to scare people half out of their wits if you don’t temper those dark looks.”

  “I’ll try to remember that,” Alex said dryly.

  Jamie looked decidedly smug. Tossing him a fierce glare, Alex dared him to crack a smile.

  Since she’d apparently ruined his chances of overhearing anything of import right now, he might as well do what he could to allay his other concern. Her safety.

  Alex tossed another card on the table and glanced over at her. Briefly.

  “Have you had word about whether they have captured any of the men who attacked you?”

  She shook her head. “No. My father is certain they’ve left the area.” She beamed at Jamie. “Thanks to Jamie, his cousin sent his men to aid in the search. They’ve scoured every inch of Lochalsh, but to no avail.”

  I’m sure they have, Alex thought. He knew from experience how thorough Argyll’s men could be. “Did you by chance recognize any of the men who attacked you?”

  She appeared taken aback. “Should I have?”

  Alex shrugged.

  “No. I’d never seen any of the men before.” Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t be thinking that someone attacked us on purpose?”

  Once again, Alex found himself impressed by her quick thinking. “It did cross my mind.”

  “You’ve been too long at battle, my laird. You see war in places where it is not.”

  Alex’s temper flared. Not because she was wrong, but because she just might be right. Had he grown so distrustful that he was seeing trouble everywhere?

  “What reason would someone have to attack Meg and her mother?” Jamie asked.

  Alex had considered this issue most of the night. He had a few theories. “It’s no secret that Mistress Mackinnon has a large fortune.”

  “The men who attacked us were not interested in my fortune. If they had been, they would have tried to abduct me. But the cutthroats were intent on killing, not on taking hostages.”

  “What of feuds?” Alex asked. “Is your father at war with anyone?”

  She shook her head. “The past few years have been peaceful. Nothing more than a few exchanges of cattle with the MacDonalds.”

  Alex’s fingers tightened around his glass, the only outward sign of the turmoil inside him unleashed with the name MacDonald. But as much as he’d like to lay blame at his enemy’s feet, Meg was right: Lifting cattle was no cause for the murder of women.

  “If you had been there”—she paused meaningfully—“you would have seen it for yourself. This was a random attack perpetrated by brigands, nothing more.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s all too common an occurrence in the Highlands,” Jamie said. “Do you have reason to believe it was not a random attack, Alex?”

  Did he? A vague discussion of a murderous plot in an Edinburgh tavern hardly qualified. He shook his head. “No.”

  Jamie stared at him for a long moment before turning back to Meg. “Perhaps you should exercise a bit of caution just to make sure.”

  Meg laughed. “If someone intended me or my mother harm, court would be the last place they’d try anything. There are people everywhere. I long for a bit of privacy.” She smiled sweetly at Jamie. “Besides, I have you to look after me.”

  Alex stiffened. His entire body rebelled at the idea of another man protecting her. But it was clear what she’d decided, though Jamie had not yet realized it.

  Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Yes, well, about that, Meg. It seems I may be gone for a bit.” Obviously not concentrating on the play of cards at the table, he errantly tossed out a knave of trumps, which Alex scooped up. “I must leave tomorrow on some business for my cousin Argyll.”

  Business that Alex suspected had something to do with the Fife Adventurers’ plan to invade the Isle of Lewis. Upon receiving the letter from his cousin Argyll this morning, Jamie had gone immediately to the lord chancellor’s chambers. Alex had tagged along. Something was going on, and he intended to find out what.

  Meg’s face fell. “But you can’t go now, not when I—” She stopped what she’d been about to say, but Alex could fill in the blanks. Not when she’d decided on Jamie. “How long will you be gone?” she asked instead.

  “A few days, perhaps one or two longer. MacLeod here has agreed to escort your mother, you, and Elizabeth over the next few evenings.” Jamie’s words were uttered with the reluctance of an extracted tooth. It was clear he did not like the idea of Alex escorting Meg anywhere.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Meg said quickly. “I’m sure Laird MacLeod has other obligations that require his attention. I daresay we will be fine on our own for a few days.”

  Alex locked his gaze on hers. “I’m afraid it has already been decided.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did I mention that your mother suggested the arrangement?”

  Meg groaned.

  Alex could commiserate. Rosalind Mackinnon was a force of nature. Somehow he’d found himself the conscripted escort of three ladies without uttering a word. But he supposed this would give him an opportunity to keep an eye on Meg and assure himself that the attack in the forest was as random as she thought.

  He didn’t know whether it was the prospect of Jamie leaving or Alex staying that had Meg so upset. But she was clearly agitated by the news.

  “No wonder she…,” Meg said, more to herself.

  “No wonder she what?” Alex asked.

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. “But how did my mother even know of your leaving?” she asked Jamie.

  “By chance, your mother intercepted us in the corridor on our way here,” he explained. “She brought up the masque—”

  “You will be gone for the masque?” Meg sounded so crestfallen, Alex felt a strange urge to sweep her into his arms and soothe her obvious distress.

  “I’m afraid there is no avoiding it,” Jamie answered apologetically. “I’ll not make it back from Argyllshire by the end of the week.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “Are you sure you have to leave right now?”

  Alex could hear the strain in her voice. The burden of her decision was clearly a weight she wanted lifted. The urge to offer her comfort intensified. At that moment, she seemed fragile and very young.

  “Unfortunately, it cannot be avoided, Meg. You know my cousin. Argyll will not be put off.”

  “Well, it appears that it has all been decided,” she said truculently. “I will see you upon your return.”

  “But I thought you wished to speak to me?” Jamie said. “We are just about done here.”

  “Apparently, it will have to wait.” She was angry, though at whom, Alex didn’t know. Shoulders rigid, she turned on her heel and flounced out of the room.

  The easy sounds of conversation that had died down when Meg had entered the room returned upon her swift departure. They finished the game, but Alex didn’t like the way Jamie was watching him.

  Alex stood up to leave. He’d get no information here, and he had another possible source to explore. But Jamie stopped him.

  “What did you hear?” Jamie asked, his voice steely.

  Alex considered his former friend with calculated interest. Jamie had guessed that there was more to the story than Alex had let on. Campbell was
unusually cunning for his age, though with Argyll for a mentor, he shouldn’t be surprised.

  He decided to tell him the truth. “Nothing specific.” He recounted the conversation he’d overheard at the tavern.

  “You’re right. It’s not much to go on.” Jamie paused thoughtfully. “You’re sure they were Highlanders?”

  “Yes.”

  “There was no mention of women?”

  Alex shook his head. He’d asked himself these same questions all night. “Most likely it’s a coincidence.”

  “Undoubtedly,” Jamie agreed. “Lawlessness is endemic in the Highlands. I’m sure Meg and her party were not the only travelers to be attacked recently.”

  Both men were silent, mulling the situation, neither one completely convinced. Alex would wager Jamie was thinking the same thing he was: What if they were wrong?

  “I’ll stay,” Jamie said. “My cousin’s errand can wait.”

  Alex gave a snort of laughter. He knew Argyll. “And what will you tell him? That you are refusing to do his bidding because of a conversation overheard in a tavern?”

  Jamie clenched his jaw, saying nothing.

  Alex realized that Jamie Campbell was going to be a problem for him. Thus far he’d taken Alex at his word, but he didn’t know how much longer Jamie would continue to do so. He’d begun to suspect that Jamie was just as interested in keeping Alex close as the other way around. Jamie was already suspicious. It would be disastrous if Jamie found out Alex’s true purpose at court and thought it his duty to warn his cousin. If the Island chiefs were to have any success in defeating another attempt to colonize Lewis by the Fife Adventurers, Alex could not let that happen. Since it was becoming clear that Alex would get no information from Jamie, it would be best for his mission if Jamie left court.

  “Go. I’ll guard her with my life,” Alex said, realizing that he meant it.

  Jamie’s gaze sharpened. “What interest do you have in Meg Mackinnon?”

  Alex wiped all expression from his face. “None.”

  “You want her.”

  He didn’t bother to deny it. “Who wouldn’t?”

  Jamie looked at him oddly. “So you find Meg attractive?”

  The corner of Alex’s mouth lifted at Jamie’s jest. It took him a moment to realize Campbell wasn’t joking. “Of course. Don’t you?”

  Jamie looked troubled. “Yes, but at court Meg is not revered for her beauty as much as she is known for her unusual intelligence and frank manner.”

  Alex scoffed, “Blind fools.”

  Jamie’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. “In this we are in agreement.” But his smile soon faded, and his eyes turned wintry. “But you’ll do nothing about it, because you know you have nothing to offer her.”

  Jamie’s words hit him like a blow to the chest. He clenched his jaw but otherwise gave no indication of their impact.

  “I intend to marry her,” Jamie said. “Do you offer the same?”

  No. And for a moment, Alex regretted it. Striding to the door, he said, “I’m sure she’ll be very happy.”

  The worst part was that he knew it was true.

  An hour later, Meg had still not found her mother. Coward, she thought. Hiding from her own daughter. Returning to her chambers, she passed by the servants’ quarters and happened to glance down the corridor just as a large man exited through a doorway.

  She froze, recognizing the tall, muscular frame. Alex MacLeod. But what was he doing in a servant’s room? A vague, uneasy feeling swept over her. She had her answer a moment later when a pretty, blond, and very buxom serving maid came out of the room after him, calling him back.

  She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. It shouldn’t matter if he chose to dally with a serving girl, it was hardly unusual, but the dull throbbing in her chest told her that it did. The irony was too perfect, reminding her of another time she’d seen a man she’d wanted to trust dallying with a maid.

  Ewen Mackinnon, the son of her father’s oldest chieftain and as handsome as the summer solstice was long. So easily he’d charmed the naïve sixteen-year-old girl she’d been with passionate kisses that left her breathless and consumed by emotions that erased all thought of everything else. Even her duties had suffered as she’d devised ways to slip away and meet him. They’d talked of marriage, of a family, of a future. But she’d been a fool.

  One afternoon, rather than helping her father with the accounts, she’d pleaded a headache and then snuck from her room to find Ewen, hoping for more of his exciting kisses. Instead, she’d stumbled upon the man she’d thought to marry seducing a housemaid in the stables.

  The girl giggled prettily and slapped his hand away from her round bottom. “But what about Meg Mackinnon? I hear you intend to marry her.”

  “I do. And you’ll be my leman. She could never satisfy me like you do.”

  The girl seemed to ponder his offer. “Don’t you find her pretty?”

  “Meg?” He laughed cruelly, and Meg felt her heart crumble at her feet. “That little bland wren? Too bad she’s not more like her mother. But one day soon, when I get rid of that idiot brother of hers, she’ll make me chief.”

  The knowledge that Ewen had pursued her only for his ambition and how easily she’d succumbed to his charm was a bitter lesson. But one well learned.

  The pain of that moment came back full force as she watched Alex with his pretty maid. The girl’s cheeks were flushed as she giggled and batted her eyelashes flirtatiously. Meg felt a pang of envy, for a moment wanting to be the type of woman who inspired lust. Alex smiled, whispered something in the girl’s ear, and patted her fondly on the rump as if to shoo her away. But the pretty maid would not be dismissed so easily. When Alex ignored her subtle invitation, the girl grew bolder. She rose on her toes to drape her arms around his neck, stretching against him like a cat and squishing her plump breasts against his leather jerkin, begging not so subtly for his kiss. Meg felt as if she were watching some horrible, intimate charade. She couldn’t breathe, waiting for confirmation of what she desperately didn’t want to believe. She must have made a sound because his gaze shot around and their eyes met.

  Silent accusation fired back and forth. She felt exposed, raw. Certain that he could see right through her. See the hurt and disappointment wallowing inside. She hated that he could see her vulnerability. Meg was a rational woman; she knew she had no claim on him. Unlike Ewen, Alex had never sought her out.

  His face darkened with fury. But what did he have to be angry about? That he’d been caught? And though she’d done nothing wrong, Meg felt a trickle of alarm.

  Snapping the connection, she turned and sped down the corridor, wanting nothing more than to put distance between herself and Alex MacLeod.

  She hadn’t taken more than a few steps before a hand snaked around her waist and she found herself swept up in his arms and pulled against the granite wall of his broad chest. She’d never heard him coming.

  Meg was frightened, but not too frightened to notice how hard and warm his body felt against hers. Or how wonderful he smelled. Like soap and spice with a hint of myrtle. His arms locked around her like steel bindings. She couldn’t move, even if she’d wanted to.

  “What are you doing?” His voice shook with fury. “Spying on me?”

  She tried not to cower under the onslaught of his rage, though any fool would have been terrified. She forced her spine straight and dared to meet his gaze. Or glower, actually. “Of course not,” she said indignantly. “You were not exactly inconspicuous.”

  “Why is it that everywhere I turn you are there? What are you doing in this part of the palace?”

  Meg felt her ire rise. “What right do you have to question me?” She lifted her chin. Perhaps it was the wrong thing to do. Their faces were so close, she could see the flecks of gold on the edges of his eyelashes. Surprisingly thick and curly eyelashes. His startlingly blue eyes bored into her. She could see every tiny scar peppered across his ruggedly handsome face. If anything, the
small imperfections only increased his attractiveness, giving proof of his life as a warrior, especially the thin scar that sliced across one brow that gave him a decidedly devilish edge—and made something inside her quiver. But most of all, she was deeply aware of his wide mouth only inches from hers.

  “Answer me.” His voice was low and rough and oddly hoarse, as if he were in pain.

  “I was looking for my mother. I might ask you the same question. Why are you here?”

  “It’s none of your damn business.”

  She felt oddly deflated; part of her had hoped he would deny it. “You’re right, it’s not. And what you were doing is quite obvious. You may dally with whomever you wish, wherever you wish,” she said thickly, her throat tightening. “But next time, you might choose not to do it in the open, where anyone might see you.”

  He pulled her even closer. “When I want advice from you, my sweet, I’ll ask for it.”

  Heat seemed to radiate through her. She could swear she felt the fierce pounding of his heart against hers. The pulse at his jaw twitched. Every muscle in his body tensed with restraint; he seemed to be holding himself by a very thin thread.

  Her own breathing was shallow and erratic. She was deeply conscious of the heavy rise and fall of her chest against him. He held her so tight, her breasts swelled high over her stays. A warm flush spread over her when she realized her nipples had hardened against him. Every part of her body felt heavy and achingly sensitive.

  Tension crackled between them. His gaze dropped to her mouth. Dear God, he was going to kiss her. The strength of her desire rose high inside her, threatening to erupt, but she struggled to tamp it down. Her duty lay with Jamie. Her voice, when it came, was ragged. “Let go of me.”

  From the expression on his face, Meg could see his shock. Without another word, he released her. This time Meg ran.

  Chapter 7

  “Margaret, stop fidgeting.”

  “Ouch!” Meg cried, trying to evade the torture of her mother’s comb raking through her mop of tangled curls. The night of the masque had arrived, and with it the fulfillment of her promise to her mother. A promise made under duress, Meg thought crossly. “I’m not fidgeting. I don’t know why I agreed to this, especially after your part in arranging our escort for the evening.”