An Outcast's Wish (Highland Heartbeats Book 3)

by Aileen Adams

  “And if you find their answers suitable?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Then it is out of my hands.”

  17

  “I need you to come with me,” Phillip said to Maccay.

  Maccay nodded and glanced down at Alis. “Stay here.” He didn’t want her to bolt and run again. “Promise me, Alis, that you’ll be here when I get back.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. “I need you to trust me. We’ll work this out. Somehow.”

  She appeared hesitant, but nodded. “I give you my word. I’ll stay here.”

  With that, Maccay followed Phillip out of the house. “What’s going on in there?” he asked, gesturing with his chin toward the manor.

  Phillip growled low in his throat. “The Kirkcaldy sheriff—if he is who he says he is, finally managed to get Patrick calmed down.” He shook his head, a put-upon sigh erupting from his chest. “I’ve got them camping in the woods to the east, over there,” he said, gesturing.

  What a mess, and it had all happened at once.

  Maccay worried about all of them—Alis, Sarah, and Heather. They belonged here. His thoughts still reeled from the knowledge that Alis… Mairi, was a McGregor. He looked to Phillip. “We can’t let her go with them, you know that, don’t you?”

  Phillip frowned and turned to him, eyebrow cocked. “What would you have me do, Maccay? Invite open warfare between the clans over a woman?”

  Maccay frowned in return. “And if it was Sarah or Heather we were talking about?”

  Phillip swore under his breath and turned to Maccay with a frown. “You think I like it? Sarah’s right. Even if Alis was supposed to spy on us, and I’m finding that increasingly doubtful, she did risk a lot coming back here to warn us about the riders. She didn’t have to do that.” He paused and gazed around the property surrounding the manor house. “And it’s also painfully obvious that she doesn’t know Clyde. She has not regained her memory. We were all looking at her, Maccay. Don’t you think we would’ve seen some sign of recognition, some expression other than fear?”

  “But Phillip, what if Clyde or another of the McGregors are the ones who beat her and left her in the woods? If so, and she goes back with them, we both know what that means.”

  “And that’s why the McGregors are going to have to answer some questions before we let her go anywhere with them.” He paused again and placed a hand on Maccay’s shoulder. “But you know that I can’t start a war over her. Too much is at stake.”

  Maccay said nothing, though he realized the truth of the matter. He didn’t like it, but he understood. If it came to that, he would try and think of something to protect Alis. Just before they entered the manor house, he spoke. “What are you going to do about Patrick MacDonald?”

  “I know what I would like to do with him,” Phillip muttered as he pushed open the door and entered the great hall.

  Maccay followed, closing the door behind him.

  At one side of the large table near the fireplace, Jake stood over Sarah, and Heather, both seated on the benches. Jake stood between them, legs spread, arms crossed over his chest, his face still red with emotion.

  “Where’s Alis?” Sarah asked.

  “Is Alis all right?” Heather asked at the same time.

  “She’s all right,” Phillip said, his voice tinged with irritation. “She’s in Maccay’s house.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Phillip turned to his wife. “For now, we stall for time until I can think of a solution.”

  “He’s got no right to the women—”

  Phillip held up a hand, halting Jake’s growl of frustration. “Where’s Hugh?”

  “With about a half-dozen of our clansmen keeping watch over the McGregors. Another six are watching Patrick MacDonald and that sheriff.”

  Phillip nodded, closed his eyes, and turned his face to the ceiling.

  Maccay could see the tension in his face. Knew the thoughts running through his head; the problems and how he might solve them. Had it really been only this morning that he and Alis had such a nice time fishing, just by themselves, no worries? And now? His heart thudded dully in his chest. Once again, he realized how fond he had grown of her.

  Not just fond. He admitted it. Finally. He had fallen in love with her. To what end? Only to learn that she was a McGregor? And he belonged to the Duncan clan. An impossible situation.

  “Maccay, are you all right?”

  Jolted out of his own musings, Maccay glanced at Sarah, her hands resting on her belly, her glistening eyes focused on him.

  Touched by her concern, he nodded.

  Leave it to Sarah to always worry about everyone else. In spite of her stepfather’s sudden appearance and his threats, she still worried about Alis, about him, and put herself last. Her compassion stirred him to turn to the laird and make a vow.

  “You have my word, Laird Duncan,” he said formally. “You have my word—my promise—that I will do my utmost to protect those you hold dear.” He turned to Sarah and Heather, both now watching him, tears in their eyes, faces flushed with emotion. Jake watched him as well. “As long as I have breath to breathe, I’ll not allow your stepfather or anyone else to harm either one of you, nor your child.”

  Heather’s face crumpled and she lurched from her seat on the bench and approached Maccay, clasping his hand in both of hers.

  “And you have my undying gratitude, Maccay,” she smiled up at him. “And I also promise the same to you.” She glanced back over her shoulder at her husband, then offered him a smile. “I have gotten quite adept with my bow, as you know.”

  Maccay smiled, and beside him, Phillip swore. The tension was broken, if only for a moment.

  Sarah spoke. “Now that all that is settled, what are we going to do about it?”

  “I will go have a talk with the sheriff,” Phillip said. “Sarah, we may have to provide him with an official statement. The same applies to Heather.”

  “And if they don’t accept it?”

  Maccay glanced at Phillip and saw the hard glint in his eyes. If Patrick MacDonald knew what was good for him, he would let it go at that, but he wasn’t sure the man would. He had traveled hundreds of miles to fetch his stepdaughters. Not out of love, based on the way he had treated them in the past, but more likely due to a matter of pride.

  “And Clyde McGregor?” That came from Jake.

  Phillip turned to his brother. “The McGregor came to us under the guise of peace and it will stay that way, as is traditional. However, we will continue to watch them carefully. I don’t yet know what brought them here in the first place.”

  “Maccay, what say you?” Jake said. “If what they say is true? That Alis… Mairi is a McGregor?”

  All eyes turned to Maccay. He didn’t hesitate. “Clyde McGregor be damned,” he said. “If Alis… Mairi, does not want to go, and I wouldn’t blame her for that, and if she accepts me, I will take her somewhere, far away from here, away from the Duncan and McGregor clans so there is no renewed blood feud.”

  Immediate disagreement, from both Sarah and Heather, denying his intention to leave Duncan lands, Jake purporting that he was touched in the head, and Phillip gazing thoughtfully at him.

  “You love her then?”

  Maccay turned to Sarah and swallowed. With a brief nod, he replied. “I do.”

  Sarah smiled.

  He continued, “I don’t think she knows it yet though, and I’m not sure she has forgiven me for believing that she might be a spy.”

  “She will,” Sarah said. After a moment, she turned to her husband, a frown of contemplation marring her forehead. “Phillip… this might be—”

  “I know what you’re going to say,” Phillip said, shaking his head. “It wouldn’t work. Our clans have been at each other’s throats for generations.”

  “But surely—”

  “You don’t know the McGregors,” Jake interjected. “No common sense to them, none whatsoever. They’re a violent, bloodthirsty lot,
all of them. Do you really think that if she proclaims her love for Maccay—of the Duncan clan—they’re just going to shrug their shoulders, walk away, and let bygones be bygones?”

  “Has it ever happened before?” Heather asked.

  Jake frowned down at her. “No, why?”

  “Then you don’t know how they’re going to react,” she shrugged.

  Jake rolled his eyes and Phillip held up his hand to hold any further conversation about the matter. “We have a more immediate problem to address. Patrick MacDonald.”

  “I think I’d better go talk to him,” Sarah said, starting to rise.

  Heather placed a hand on her shoulder. “If you go, I’m going with you.”

  “Neither one of you are going to speak to him if I have anything to say about it,” Phillip said.”

  Jake stepped forward. “Same.”

  Maccay stood, uncertain. If it’d been just the McGregor or Patrick MacDonald who’d arrived this evening, it wouldn’t seem so overwhelming, but the coincidence; the chance that both of them had arrived at the same time…

  “I think this was planned.”

  All eyes turned once more toward him, Phillip’s eyebrows lifted in question.

  Maccay continued, “Think about it, Phillip. What are the chances that Patrick MacDonald and Clyde McGregor, coming from two different directions, would arrive at the same time?”

  “So you think this was a coordinated… attack of sorts?” Jake proposed.

  Maccay nodded. “What are the chances?” He turned to Phillip. “As Sarah has told us, there is no love lost between Patrick and his stepdaughters. Why come all this way? I don’t believe he would do so without some sort of…”

  “A reward. Something,” Sarah broke in. She glanced at her sister. “Patrick MacDonald has never done anything without something gained for himself in return.”

  “You think he might have been offered money to come up here and stir up trouble? To what end?” Phillip asked no one in particular.

  “Not only to stir up trouble with you, Phillip, but what if… it’s plausible that in arriving with the McGregors, he’s hoping to stir up trouble between our clans.”

  “But to what end?”

  “Patrick loves only one thing, Phillip. Money.” Sarah shook her head. “And what you said earlier… Phillip, what if all of this had something to do with Ceana? If so, it was put into motion a while ago.”

  Phillip said nothing for several moments. “I will deal with Patrick MacDonald first,” he said. “Jake, come with me.” He turned his wife. “I don’t want you to feel that you’re a prisoner in your own home, but for the time being, I think it would be best if both of you go back upstairs and wait for my return.”

  Sarah and Heather nodded as he turned to Maccay. “Since Hugh and his men are watching both camps, I think it’s best that you go stay with Alis. Perhaps the arrival of the McGregor triggered a memory, or something… anything.” He paused, shaking his head. “We have no proof that she is who he says she is. Nevertheless, the chances of him arriving at this time, along with MacDonald, is too much of a coincidence.”

  He agreed. He needed to talk to Alis, to see if the arrival of Clyde McGregor had triggered any memories, even vague ones.

  “Don’t press are too hard,” Sarah suggested. “With head injuries, the outcome is uncertain. There is a chance, Maccay, that she will never remember anything that led up to your discovery of her in the woods. Are you willing to accept that? Even if she is a McGregor?”

  Maccay didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I am.”

  18

  Still wearing the breeches, the laced-up leather boots, and the tunic she had worn when she and Maccay had gone fishing early that morning, Alis paced back and forth. Six steps one way and six steps the other. She nibbled on her fingernail, trying to make sense of it all. Her head pounded and she couldn’t stop her hands from trembling, even when she clasped them together in front of her chest.

  Looking for an answer though none presented itself. Her anger at Maccay had evaporated the moment he had stepped between her and that intimidating Clyde McGregor.

  She tried to understand the situation from the perspective of the Duncans. The arrival of Clyde McGregor might seem suspicious to them, but she didn’t know them or their history. While she was aware of the animosity between the clans, she didn’t know their history above or beyond what Maccay had told her.

  Apparently, the McGregor and Duncan clans had been sworn enemies for generations. Why, she didn’t know, nor did she think it mattered.

  Nevertheless, she had felt a visceral reaction to the sight of Clyde McGregor. She wasn’t sure what had triggered it, his size, his voice, the surprised expression that had given way to fury? All she knew was that at that moment, she had never been so terrified. Nor so grateful when Maccay and Phillip had interceded on her behalf.

  She still couldn’t get over the fact that they had, if albeit briefly, considered that she might be a spy. When she removed emotion from the question, she could understand, at least a little bit. If she were to be completely honest, she didn’t know either. More than anything she longed to remember.

  The name Mairi didn’t trigger any internal sense of recognition. It didn’t bring back memories of her childhood, her parents, or friends or family. She didn’t feel like Mairi. She felt like… she felt like Alis.

  How long would that last? The thought that the laird would make her go with the McGregors was terrifying. She resolved at that moment that if he did, she would run away.

  She would rather risk death in the woods than be forced to go where she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to cause trouble or to trigger a renewed spate of violence between the McGregor and Duncan clans. Sarah was close to giving birth to her first child. The thought of something happening to her or to Heather, or either of the Duncan brothers, let alone Maccay, filled her with a sense of dread.

  If she had to go with the McGregor, and she ran away from them, they wouldn’t blame the Duncans, would they? Then again, maybe they would. Maybe they wouldn’t believe she couldn’t remember any more than the Duncans had when she’d first come to them. Then what?

  She stopped in the middle of the room and stomped her foot with frustration.

  Why had Clyde McGregor come here? And of all the people who claimed her, why did it have to be an enemy of the Duncan clan? What could she do—

  A knock at the door prompted her to freeze. Her heart dropped her stomach and she half- crouched in a frightened reaction, staring wide-eyed at the door, heart pounding.

  “Alis, it’s Maccay. Let me in.”

  A surge of relief passed through her body as she quickly stepped the door and allowed him entry.

  Immediately after he stepped inside, she shut the door and stood with her back to it. She wasn’t taking any chances.

  “What’s happening?”

  Maccay turned to her, his expression somber. “Clyde McGregor and his companion are camping in the woods to the west. Patrick MacDonald and the Kirkcaldy sheriff, or whoever he is, are camping in the woods to the east.”

  “So they’re not going to take me away?”

  Maccay gazed down at her and she saw the concern and worry in his eyes.

  “Phillip is trying to give us a little time. Besides, they need to answer a few questions. He wants some proof that you are who they say you are.”

  “And if I am?” She didn’t like the fear she heard in her voice and straightened her shoulders. “If I am who they say I am, Maccay, I will probably have to go with them, won’t I?”

  His silence gave her the answer.

  She looked down at the floor, forcing herself to stay calm, blinking back a sudden warmth in her eyes before looking up. “I know this is a difficult situation, and I don’t want to put the Duncans in—”

  Maccay again wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head.

  She could’ve stood like this forever, enveloped in his strong embrace
, listening to his heart thudding beneath her ear, feeling his breath against the top of her head. She relished the moment and tried to memorize every sensation, just in case she would never have the opportunity to do so again.

  “There’s something you should know, Alis.”

  She appreciated that he didn’t call her Mairi. After all, she was Alis.

  “What is that, Maccay?”

  He gently nudged her out of his embrace and gazed down at her, one hand under her chin so she could look up at him. She searched his eyes as he stared down at her. Her heart sank. She knew. She would have to go. She—

  “I love you.”

  She stared at him, surprised.

  That wasn’t what she is expected to hear, but his words brought her great sense of relief.

  Despite her worries, she could help the smile she felt lifting her lips, her heart, and her spirits. “I think… I know… I love you too, Maccay.”

  He grinned and pulled her into his embrace again. She wrapped her arms around his waist, both of them reveling in the moment. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to feel his embrace forever; to know that she would be with him… but despite their proclaimed affection for one another, it didn’t change the circumstances.

  Her cheek pressed against his tunic, she spoke. “If I am who they say I am, if I am truly the niece of the McGregor laird, I’m going to have to go with them, aren’t I? To prevent bloodshed between the clans.”

  He said nothing and once again, her heart sank. What did it matter that she was in love with him or he with her?

  “Alis, I promise you, I’ll do everything within my power to keep you here, with me, if that’s what you wish. But I also want you to know that if… if you want to go, I won’t stop you.”

  This time it was she who gently pulled away from his tight embrace. “I want to stay here with you, Maccay, and the Duncans. Everyone has been very kind. I don’t know the McGregors and I don’t think I want to. That man unsettles me. If that’s what the McGregors are like, I want nothing to do with them. I don’t understand why I fear them, but at the same time I can’t let… I can’t let it be my fault if something happens. I can’t be the reason for renewed animosity between the clans.”