No Other Highlander

by Adrienne Basso

  The imposter sighed, his eyes lighting with pleasure as he recalled the memory. “I thought she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She was surrounded by several other women and then suddenly she was alone. Seizing the moment, I boldly approached her. She noticed the plaid and assumed that I was a McKenna. When she asked my name, I said the only one that I knew—yers.”

  Malcolm’s expression softened slightly. “I can well understand the power of a beautiful woman’s allure. But that doesn’t explain why ye kept up the charade.”

  The imposter’s lips twisted. “I intended to tell her. I was going to tell her. But my affection fer her grew so quickly and I feared she would spurn my attentions if she knew that I was naught but a humble knight.”

  Malcolm peered down at him. “Is she so fickle a woman, so shallow a female that she would only bestow her regard on a wealthy noble?”

  The imposter tensed, clenching his fists. “Say what ye will about me, but ye’ve no right to slander Lady Brienne. She is all that is good and decent in this world.”

  “Yet ye defiled her! Ye took her innocence and her honor!” Malcolm retorted.

  “I loved her!” the imposter shouted, his voice straining with emotion.

  Beside her, Joan heard Brienne gasp. She reached out a hand to comfort the young woman and realized that Brienne was shaking like a leaf in a strong wind.

  “What did ye seek to gain by kidnapping my son and taking him to the MacPhearsons?” Lady Aileen asked. “Ye knew full well that he was not the one they sought. I cannae decide if ye were too bold or too witless believing ye could have collected the reward from Laird MacPhearson.”

  “’Twas never about the coin. I needed a way inside the castle walls and Sir Malcolm was the prize that assured me I could ride through the gates. I had tried to see Brienne months ago, but the holding was heavily guarded and the women’s quarters impossible to breech.”

  “Ye tried to see her?” Joan asked.

  The imposter nodded his head enthusiastically. “Aye. Several times. I even considered bribing one of the servants to deliver a note, but the whole clan was suspicious of any strangers in their midst. I had to find another way inside.”

  “What of the other men?” Malcolm wanted to know. “Did they know of yer plans when ye ambushed me?”

  “Nay. They thought it an easy way to earn some coin. I assumed our arrival would cause a big commotion. ’Twas my intention to use that distraction to finally see Brienne.”

  “And then what?” Joan questioned.

  “I hoped to explain it all. To throw myself on her mercy and beg her forgiveness.” There was a flash of contrition shining in the imposter’s eyes that was impossible to miss. “I am not worthy of her. I know it. But that doesn’t lessen the love I feel fer her.”

  “Love?” Brienne slowly unfurled her hands and placed them at her sides. “Ye love me so much that ye lied to me, seduced me, made a fool of me. Is that what ye claim?”

  “I do love ye,” he insisted.

  Brienne let out a low groan. “Saints preserve us, I dinnae even know yer true name.”

  “Alec. I’m Alec Ewing.”

  The McKenna frowned. “I dinnae think there were any Ewing men left alive after the battle of Bannockburn in 1314.”

  Alec grimaced. “Our clansmen fought bravely fer the Bruce, my father included, but most who returned from that victorious battle were gravely injured. There were too few to train the younger lads, like myself, and our skills were poor. We were no match fer the Douglas clan when they decided to take our lands and disband the clan.”

  “Ye carry a fine sword and fought at the fete,” Joan pointed out. “Ye clearly had training at some point.”

  “Perhaps ye’re only good fer mock battles, Alec Ewing,” the McKenna taunted.

  Alec bristled at the remark. “I’ve learned much in the years since the Douglas stole our land. Competing in tournaments is how I earn my living. Fer that, ye need skill to survive.”

  Joan noticed several of the men, including her husband, nodding their heads. Serious injury and death were common at these events.

  “It seems that ye do far more than fight at the tournaments,” Malcolm commented dryly. “Is the fair Brienne the only victim of yer treachery? Or are there other babes with startling green eyes populating the Highlands?”

  “Nay!” Alec’s eyes remained fixed on Brienne. “I have loved no other woman. Only Lady Brienne. And I shall continue to love her fer as long as I draw breath.”

  The McKenna made a rude noise. “God above, save us all from lovesick swains.”

  “Time will prove the truth of my love,” Alec insisted, a spark of determination edging his voice.

  “Yer betrayal has earned Brienne’s disdain along with that of her father and her clan,” Malcolm stated firmly. “They are all repulsed by yer behavior.”

  “If I had the chance, I would change much—”

  “’Tis easy to see the folly of yer deeds once the consequences have been shown,” Brienne said bitterly. “An honorable man acts to avoid them.”

  “Fer now I can do naught but beg yer forgiveness,” Alec admitted.

  “Thanks to yer lies, I participated willingly in my own downfall, disgraced myself and my clan. Ye have taught me the harsh lesson of how little a man values a woman,” Brienne said tonelessly. “I suppose fer that I should be grateful.”

  “Nay!” Alec cried, lunging forward. He didn’t get far. Two of the McKenna guards leapt forward and held him back.

  “As punishment fer yer actions against me, ye will dig a long ditch at the edge of the south fields so water from the river can be directed there if the rains fail in the warm weather,” Malcolm announced. “Once that is completed, ye will be sent north to Laird MacPhearson to await his judgment.”

  The guards started to haul Alec away, but he bucked and strained and struggled against them. “Wait! I aided ye in yer escape and in exchange I beg one small mercy.”

  Malcolm raised his hand. “Hold!”

  The guards released Alec. He straightened, and Joan swore she could almost see the fierce emotions lodged in his chest. “I wish to see my son.”

  Malcolm tilted his head. “Ye ask fer something that I have no right to give. ’Tis up to his mother to give permission, not me.”

  Alec turned hopeful eyes toward Brienne. She looked away, pressing her lips together for a long moment.

  Feeling the shudder that went through the younger woman, Joan leaned her head close to Brienne’s. “I’m not surprised that he has asked to see the lad,” Joan whispered. “In anticipation of this moment, I asked Gertrude to wait with Liam nearby.”

  Brienne anxiously chewed on her lower lip. “Does he think to manipulate me through my son?” she asked Joan.

  Joan regarded Alec warily. “I’m uncertain, though his interest appears genuine. I see no harm in allowing it.”

  After another long, tense moment, Brienne nodded.

  Rather than shout, Joan went herself to fetch her maid and the babe. Liam smiled the moment he saw her and began kicking his legs. He was such a sweet, innocent child.

  Joan and Gertrude entered the great hall. Alec’s face contorted in wonder and joy as he beheld his son for the first time. Liam stared at his sire solemnly, then favored him with one of his sweetest grins. Alec choked back a smile, his joy and pride evident. He gently placed his hand upon Liam’s head, then bent forward and kissed his brow.

  “I vow to make myself worthy of raising this child and becoming a father he can respect.” Alec stared hard at Brienne. “And a husband ye can love.”

  There was a deep crease marking Brienne’s brow, yet she said nothing. With the guards at his side, Alec strode silently from the hall. The only sound in the chamber was Liam’s excited gurgles and coos. ‘Twas almost as if he was trying to call his father back.

  Joan was glad to see Brienne’s chin go up a notch. She reached for Liam and he went eagerly to his mother’s arms. Joan, Katherine, and Malcolm
gathered around the pair.

  “My chest hurts and my heart is pounding fiercely,” Brienne confessed. “Yet so much of my worry is centered on Alec. After all that has passed between us, ’tis illogical to be so consumed with emotion over his well-being, but I seemed unable to control my perversity.”

  Joan ran her fingers over Brienne’s forehead, trying to ease the worry from her brow. “He is Liam’s father. Naturally, ye would have strong feelings fer him.”

  “My life has been altered by him, thrown into a direction I never would have imagined. By all rights I should hate him.”

  “Yet ye cannae,” Katherine said sympathetically.

  “Ye need time to take in all that ye have learned about Alec today,” Malcolm said.

  Brienne nodded. “I want to return home.”

  “Ye can return home whenever ye wish,” Joan replied, patting Brienne’s shoulder. “Malcolm will arrange fer an escort.”

  “If ye’d like, I will go with ye,” Katherine volunteered.

  “Thank ye, Katherine. I would be very glad of the company.” With relief brimming in her watery eyes, Brienne squeezed Katherine’s hand.

  “These past few weeks have been a test of yer endurance,” Malcolm said. “Ye handled yerself with courage and honor. I know yer father will be proud of ye.”

  “Are ye certain ye wish to leave?” Joan asked. “There is much unsettled between ye and Alec.”

  Sorrow filled Brienne’s eyes. “Aye. ’Tis why I need to go. My emotions are in such turmoil that I cannae think straight. I need to get away from him.”

  “If ye stay here, ye can easily avoid setting eyes on him,” Malcolm said reassuringly. “He’ll be working very hard from sunrise to sunset, and when he isn’t he’ll be confined to the dungeon.”

  Brienne hung her head. “Just knowing he is so near will prey upon my weakness. I fear I might shame myself and seek him out. Nay, ’tis best if Liam and I return home. I am grateful fer all the kindness ye have shown me. But now I need the strength of my family and clan around me.”

  “We must keep our word to yer father and send Alec to him once he has served his punishment here,” Malcolm warned.

  Brienne took a harsh breath and hugged Liam close to her breast. “By then I shall be strong enough to bear the weight of whatever comes next.”

  * * *

  “She still loves him,” Joan observed.

  Malcolm turned to his wife. They were alone, having stayed behind in the great hall after the others had left.

  “Aye. She is hurt and mistrustful, yet I heard no venom in her tone.” Joan’s face softened. “Alec is not the black-hearted rogue we all believed him to be.”

  “Perhaps in time Brienne will remember what she first saw in Alec that made him worth loving.”

  “Why are ye smiling?” Joan asked.

  “We had all ascribed such devious motivation to Alec’s impersonation, yet it all started because a McKenna plaid had been left behind during a mock battle,” Malcolm said, his voice filled with irony.

  “If not fer that, then my father would never have been asked to negotiate a peace between the McKennas and the MacPhearsons. Ye never would have come to Armstrong Castle.” She stepped forward, happily, into the circle of Malcolm’s arms. “We never would have married.”

  He tilted his head. “Are ye saying that we owe Alec a debt of gratitude?”

  Joan shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”

  A wider grin appeared on Malcolm’s face and his blue eyes twinkled. “I would.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Joan sat on a stone bench under the pleasant warmth of the afternoon sun, watching Lileas carefully bend over the neat rows of delicate green sprouts. Having the lass weed the kitchen garden was the newest punishment Joan had devised to correct the child’s mischievous behavior, and thus far Joan was uncertain of its impact, as Lileas seemed to almost be enjoying herself.

  Callum was hunched nearby, his forearms resting on his knees, his expression earnest as he observed his older sister. Occasionally, he would reach out and run his fingers through the ever growing pile of weeds Lileas was making. She, in turn, would smile and pat his hand.

  “Nay, not that one, Lileas,” Joan called out. “’Tis a carrot top.”

  “Aye, Mother.”

  “Carrot,” Callum repeated.

  “Is this one a weed?” Lileas asked, pointing to a tall, thin shoot.

  “Nay, that’s a turnip.” Joan noticed Lileas’s fingers still hovering over the green top. “Move along, Lileas. Ye cannae pull it just because ye dinnae like turnips. They are yer grandfather’s favorites.”

  “Turnips,” Callum repeated.

  Joan nodded. Her wee one was growing up. She was surprised at how many new words Callum had learned in the month since they had come to McKenna Castle. She knew that his expanded vocabulary was due in part to the lavish attention he received from all the members of his new family, especially Lileas.

  The lass doted upon him and he worshipped her. A part of Joan was pleased they had formed a close sibling relationship, though her biggest fear was that her son would soon be joining his new sister in her escapades, and the pair would wreak havoc throughout the entire McKenna clan.

  “I finished the row,” Lileas announced.

  “Start on the next one,” Joan ordered.

  With a loud sigh, Lileas complied, making Joan feel more assured over her choice of punishment. ’Twould not be an effective lesson if the lass did not find discomfort in the task.

  A series of sharp barks from Prince drew Joan’s attention away from Lileas. Relegated to the other side of the kitchen garden fence, the loyal hound had been dozing in the sunlight, but now he stood on guard.

  The barking continued, along with a vigorous tail wagging, and in the distance, Joan saw Malcolm approaching. A smile came naturally to her lips at the sight of her handsome Highland warrior and a shiver of delight gripped her.

  Powerfully built, tall, and well muscled, he was a formidable figure, but there was a boyish quality to his smile that bespoke of an inner peace and happiness.

  A happiness they shared. Joan’s lips curved higher. The love she felt for him seemed to grow stronger and deeper each day, until it had reached the very marrow of her bones. It surprised her, sometimes even frightened her.

  She had never planned to feel this way about any man. Never expected it, never even wanted it. Yet now that she had experienced it, Joan could not imagine her life without it.

  She had yet to say anything to Malcolm about it. She was waiting for the right moment to reveal her heart and gift him with the words that she hoped would bring him joy.

  “Papa!” Lileas jumped to her feet and hurried to greet Malcolm, crushing several rows of herbs in the process.

  “Good day to ye, poppet,” he replied, swinging her into his arms. “What are ye doing?”

  Lileas sighed dramatically and buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m pulling the weeds from the garden. I’ve been doing it fer hours and hours and I’m so tired. And look, I’ve got dirt on all of my fingers and under my nails.”

  Lileas waved her hands in Malcolm’s face before continuing with her complaints. “Grandmother doesn’t like it when I’m so untidy. Please, may I stop?”

  Malcolm slowly set his daughter on her feet. “Why are ye pulling weeds?”

  Lileas shrugged. “Mother is making me.”

  “Why?”

  “She is angry with me.”

  “There must be a reason.”

  Lileas studied the ground a moment, then lifted her head. “I dinnae mean to open the sheep pen. ’Twas an accident.”

  “That’s not what the shepherd told me,” Joan interjected. “He said that he warned ye three times not to touch the gate.”

  “It’s not a sturdy gate,” Lileas countered, a distinct whine in her voice. “I only put my hand on it fer a second and it swung wide open.”

  “Sheep ran and ran and ran,” Callum added excitedly.
“Baa, baa, baa.”

  “Hello, laddie.”

  Malcolm ruffled Callum’s hair—which had finally begun to grow in evenly—then lowered his chin. Joan could see he was making a valiant effort to hide his smile.

  “I am so very sorry about the sheep,” Lileas proclaimed. “I promise to be a good lass and do as I am told. May I go play with Callum now?”

  Joan tensed. Malcolm had told her a few weeks ago that she would be in charge of disciplining Lileas, but this was the first true test of that arrangement.

  “Nay, Lileas, ye are to do as yer mother says,” Malcolm decided. “She will tell ye when yer punishment has ended.”

  Lileas crossed her arms over her chest and grumbled, but Malcolm ignored her. He came to sit beside Joan on the bench. Feeling a tad stunned, she wiggled to make room for him.

  “Ye stood with me,” Joan said slowly, her heart thumping with excitement. “I feared that the moment Lileas begged ye to release her, ye’d rebuke my orders and issue yer own, allowing her whatever she wanted.”

  Malcolm tilted his head. “I gave ye my word that I’d stand beside ye, lass. I might not always agree with ye—hell, I can say with certainty that I willnae—but I’ll never forsake ye. Ye are my wife, my partner, and I value yer opinion, especially when it comes to raising our children.”

  A hesitant smile blossomed on Joan’s face and she struggled with the unexpressed emotions that bubbled and brewed inside her. Then taking a deep breath, she spoke from her heart.

  “I love ye, Malcolm,” she whispered into his ear. “More than I ever believed possible.”

  He squeezed her waist in acknowledgment. Joan swallowed nervously, squirming in his arms. Did the declaration please him?

  He nuzzled his lips against her ear and she held her breath, waiting to hear the words that she dared to hope he would utter.

  “Finally,” he muttered.

  Joan’s eyes widened as she pulled back. “What did ye say?”

  “Ye heard me. I said ‘finally.’”

  The look of smug satisfaction on his face was exceptionally irritating, momentarily overshadowing her hurt. Yet as the silence stretched, Joan admitted that she had hoped for a far different reaction. She had hoped to hear a declaration from him, daring to admit to herself how desperately she longed to have his love.