by Terry Spear
Dougald frowned. "Her uncle would be furious."
"Her uncle would have no say in the matter. If he wants a nephew by marriage and an heir, he will have one. If he doesna want her back, she will remain with us."
"What about the lass? What about what she wants?"
"She would have no choice no matter how this plays out."
"And me?"
James waved his hand dismissively. "You love all the lasses. This one will be no different."
"James, you dinna understand." Dougald let out an exasperated breath. "The shepherdess lied when she convinced Lady Alana to seek out Rob MacNeill. What if Laird Cameron set her up to it? What if this is some grand scheme of his?" Dougald paced across the solar, then stopped and faced James. "What if Alana is truly no' the Cameron niece but an imposter? Then Laird Cameron would have a laugh, aye? Me wed to his supposed niece, and she still is very much at home in her keep safe from the likes of me?"
"She is Lady Alana, the same bonny lass I met last year, Dougald. I have no doubt about that. Whether this was a calculated ruse by either Laird Cameron or someone else in his employ, I canna say. The end result will be the same." James studied his brother and saw that he actually looked pleased with the notion. It was subtle, as if Dougald didn't want James to see how much he agreed with the plan, but it was there in his almost smile and his eyes, bright with intrigue.
"This past year, I have remarked 'tis time for you to settle down and now the time has come," James said.
"Her da was murdered," Dougald said, not remarking on James's comment. "I believe she has seen one or more of the men, but she canna remember."
James studied him for a moment. "Aye?"
"What if the reason she lived through that massacre has something to do with that marriage? She was to marry a MacIverson. The marriage was set aside when her father died. Now MacDonald wants her hand in marriage? Before, her brother would have been the next clan chief, but with his death, whoever she weds will stand a good chance to be the clan chief."
"Aye, you, Dougald."
Frowning, Dougald appeared exasperated that he wasn't getting his point across. "Why would her uncle no' wish the lass to wed MacIverson? Did her uncle have something to do with the lass's father's death? When he took over, he made the change in the arrangements for her marriage."
"And you are thinking that if he doesna have her wed to the MacDonald's son, her uncle will try to kill you?"
Dougald raised his brows. "I hadna considered that."
James stroked his chin, frowning, rethinking his plan.
"Everyone knows 'tis tough to kill me."
James had to smile at his brother. There it was. The admission, subtle as it was, that Dougald wanted the lass.
Dougald folded his arms. "What if her uncle thought MacIverson had her da killed?"
"Could be. And then he called off the marriage. Why would MacIverson have had her da murdered?"
"He knew the lass sees ghosts?" Dougald ventured.
James stared at Dougald for a moment, then frowned. "You know this for certain?"
"Aye. What if the MacIverson had learned the lass could observe ghosts and thought she was of the fae, or a witch? He had intended that her father and their party, including the girl, perish, and thereby negate the contract. Only she hid well enough that they didna find her."
"Hmm," James said. "But then MacDonald doesna know she can see…ghosts?"
"Nay. Or it doesna matter to him."
"But if it does?"
Dougald's jaw tightened. "The man could have her drowned as a witch. He could wait until he was in charge of the clan, mayhap have a child by Alana, and conveniently dispose of her."
"Aye." James said, "What about her brother?"
"He is dead."
"Aye, but how so? We heard he had been seeing a man's wife and the man killed him for it," James said.
"Aye. Where are you going with this line of reasoning?"
"What if that wasna the cause?"
Dougald's eyes widened. "You mean he wasna cuckolding another man's wife?"
James waved his hand in annoyance. "Nay, nay, we know Connell Cameron was a rake. What if the woman set him up?"
Dougald stared at his brother. "She enticed him to her bed and her husband killed Connell for some more nefarious reason?"
"Aye. What if Connell had been an unwitting pawn in this?"
Dougald's jaw dropped for a moment. "Then whoever sent Lady Alana on a fool's errand was trying to get her to safety? Someone warned us of a raid and when we investigated, there was no one, no sign that anyone had bothered any of our crofters. What if we were warned so we found the lady and took her into custody? Brought her here in fact, only we were supposed to do it as soon as the laird was away, three days earlier?"
"Because whoever it was that set this into motion didna trust her uncle or MacDonald, or both?" James took a deep breath. "Then I say you may still be the lady's savior."
Dougald snorted. "She thinks I am a rake."
"Then you shall have to prove her wrong. Let us join the others for the meal." James took Dougald by the arm and led him out of the solar. He'd never seen his brother look so…intrigued. Though he could tell his brother was worried the lass might not like the idea. James was certain that Dougald's marrying the lass would be best for all concerned.
"But…," Dougald said, his ashen face reddening, "you dinna understand."
"What? That one lass is no' enough to keep you satisfied? If you need lessons in that regard, I would be happy to give you some tips."
Dougald scowled at him. "Nay, 'tis the lass's feelings I am worried about."
James patted his brother on the back. "For the good of the clan, an alliance with the Cameron when we can ill afford the MacDonalds to ally with them, and the lass's own safety, should the MacDonald not like that she can…see spirits, Dougald, you will do this." He knew from the way Dougald had acted around her and the way he hadn't denied wanting her for a wife, he was willing.
The manner in which he'd gone to her when she'd seemed unsteady, the way they looked at each other, they had a fondness for each other already.
But still, to give his brother an out, just in case, James paused in the corridor and looked squarely at Dougald and said, "Unless you would rather our younger brother have the opportunity to wed the lass. Angus looked as interested. Or even our cousin, Niall."
Dougald's lips thinned, his expression darkened. "Nay, she is mine."
James grinned. He knew the right of it. "Good, then on the morrow, you will marry the lady."
Chapter 14
A maid brought Alana a chemise, léine, and brat to change into while two others brought her water to wash off the dirt from the long ride. She was so tired, she only wished to collapse on the bed and sleep.
But she wanted to know what James had decided to do with her, and she was irritated already with him that he had shooed her away as if she didn't have any say in this. Not that she had much say, but she liked to think she did.
The ladies helped her out of her mud-spattered clothes and set them aside. They helped her to bathe and dried her. They assisted her into a sheer soft chemise, and then the pale blue léine. "'Tis lovely," Alana said, running her hand over the soft linen.
"I always liked the color on me," a woman said.
Not believing anyone was standing behind her and thinking the woman was the owner of the borrowed léine and she should thank her, Alana turned, tugging her hair out of a maid's hands as she tried to plait it for her. A woman her height and approximate build stood beside the bed, admiring the embroidery work on the sleeves of the léine she had just donned.
She had beautiful dark brown hair and when she looked up at Alana, she had eyes to match. Her coloration looked deceivingly like Dougald's and his brothers'. Was she Lady Eilis? James's wife? Or mayhap Eilis's cousin, Fia?
The woman's gaze shifted to Alana's, and she tilted her head quizzically. "You seem to see me but are no' afraid. No shrieki
ng or fainting. How verra odd."
Alana's lips parted.
The maids had stopped fussing with Alana's hair and looked to see what she was observing. "Are you all right, my lady?" one of the maids asked.
"Aye, aye, I am fine." Alana's skin prickled, the hair on her arms standing on end. She hadn't expected to see a ghost this soon. It couldn't be Dougald's dead sister, could it? "Can I have a moment alone?"
"We have no' pinned up your hair yet, my lady," the maid said, looking concerned.
"'Tis fine. The queen herself doesna hide her hair behind veils and such."
"You are wanted in the great hall to dine," the maid said, as if she thought Alana didn't wish to join the MacNeill clan at the meal.
"Aye, I will be down in a moment. Please leave me."
"Aye, my lady," the three maids murmured, glancing in the direction that Alana was looking, then shut the door on their hasty retreat.
"Are you Dougald's sister?" Alana asked.
This time the ghost's mouth parted. "Can you hear me?"
"Oh, aye." Alana smiled brightly.
"Well, that is a laugh and what a surprise," the lass said, smiling, looking tremendously pleased. "Are you staying here?"
"Nay," Alana said, shaking her head.
"'Tis a shame. I would have enjoyed speaking to someone who could talk with me who did not shriek in alarm and when a manservant came to the woman's rescue say she only saw a…"
"…rat," Alana offered.
The woman raised her brows.
"'Tis the excuse I have used when seeing something that others canna see, and I have had no warning."
"You see others like me?" The lass's eyes widened and she seemed truly astonished.
Alana let her breath out. "Aye." It seemed a curse at times, but right now she couldn't imagine how difficult it had to be for a spirit who was lost in their world, just a fright to some, and nonexistent to others.
"Who are you?"
"Alana Cameron. Niece of Alroy Cameron, the laird."
"Ahh. Whatever are you doing here? I have heard the rumors spreading that Dougald captured a lass in the heather and brought her here to be his bride. My brothers believe anyone who sees ghosts is mad. So Dougald willna do for you. Besides, he is way too fond of the lasses. I am Lady Seana MacNeill, by the way. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"And aye, you, Lady Seana."
"No need for pretense here. Call me Seana."
"Alana," she said, smiling brightly. "You say your brothers truly believe anyone who sees ghosts is mad?"
Why had Dougald professed to believe her, then? Mocking her. Pretending to talk to her brother, who as far as Dougald believed, wasn't truly there, even in Alana's estimation? She felt disheartened to the core and annoyed with herself for even trusting that he had told her the truth.
A firm knock on the door gave her a start.
"Lady Alana?"
"Dougald," Alana said under her breath, her skin warming. Why did he affect her so as if she was sneaking away with him for a lover's tryst? Mayhap it had more to do with her sending the maids away, her hair unbound and hanging about her shoulders, and she was speaking to Dougald's dead sister when he really thought Alana was mad and not gifted at all.
Seana hmpfed.
"Are you all right in there? The maids said you dismissed them, and they were worried you were…"
"Seeing rats?" Alana offered, opening the door, frowning at him. She couldn't help it. She'd trusted him! And he was the rat.
Seana chuckled.
Dougald looked at Alana in the new léine and brat and took a deep breath.
"Oh for heaven's sakes," his sister said. "He looks at you as though you were a new conquest. Leave the lass be, dear brother."
"Your sister was telling me I shouldna consider you for marriage, though I have no plans in that regard." Alana glanced back at Seana and whispered, "Later." Though she knew very well that Dougald could hear her, and if he thought her mad, so be it. What did she care what he believed?
Seana grinned at her, looking more than delighted to have found a friend in Alana. "Aye. Soon." And then she vanished.
Dougald took Alana's arm and hurried her into the hall and said under his breath, "If you see my sister, please dinna let others know this."
Which proved just what Seana had told her! Not about to let him think she was fooled by his rhetoric, Alana said, "She revealed to me you and your brothers believe anyone who witnesses ghosts is mad."
He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at Alana. "Before Lady Eilis saw my sister? Aye, 'tis true. After that? Nay. Dinna believe my sister. She is still angry with all of us for believing she shouldna have run away with the lad. And for what? She died. 'Twas a tragedy we all still feel."
Seeing Dougald clench his fists, his jaw tightening, then take a deep breath as if he was trying to ease the pain, she could tell his sister's death still affected him.
"What did your brother say concerning what he would do with me?" she asked, changing the subject, unable to quit worrying about the matter, which was more pressing at the moment. Though she was glad to hear that he had believed her about seeing ghosts after all.
Before Dougald could tell Alana, she was surrounded by women who hurried to introduce themselves as they rushed her to the great hall. First was Lady Akira, Dougald's mother, who was all smiles and looked positively thrilled to visit with her. Her brown eyes were bright with enthusiasm. She was dark-haired like her sons, but strands of her hair were streaked with silver.
Lady Eilis, Jame's wife, was just as dark haired, who looked rather peeked, her belly swollen with the babe she was carrying. She kept rubbing her belly and appeared uncomfortable.
Fiona, Eilis's cousin, was just as friendly, very similar in looks, but her attention was diverted. When Alana glanced around the hall to see what held the woman’s attention, she noted Fiona was gawking at Gunnolf.
He was talking to some of the men and didn’t seem to notice the lass’s interest.
Dougald didn't look entirely happy with regard to whatever James had spoken to him about earlier, but he wasn't able to answer her as Alana was escorted so quickly away to the great hall.
Before long, she was seated between Lady Eilis, and Dougald's mother, Lady Akira. Since they had sat down, Lady Akira had been talking to her nearly nonstop about the castle and her sons, about Eilis and the baby, about their people and mostly how delighted she was to finally meet Alana.
Alana's attention was drawn to Dougald sitting on the other side of his mother. Alana tried not to look at him because every time she did he caught her glance. He appeared as though he wanted to say something to her, almost apologetic. Again she wondered what James had decided concerning her. At least she assumed he'd made some decision.
Trying to take her mind off her own troubles, she said to Lady Eilis, "I have some herbs that might settle your stomach."
Dismissing the notion, the lady waved her hand. "I am fine. I have been told this sickness will pass. And our healer, Tavia, has aided me greatly."
Alana nodded and again chanced a look at Dougald. He gave Alana a thin smile, but it wasn't warm and endearing, nor did he look amused as if he believed she was giving him fervent looks because she was interested in him. Nor was it the kind of smile that said he wanted her, like he had given her earlier when he had pulled her from her horse and seated her upon his lap. No. This was more of a show for her as if he was trying to be civil and put her at ease, which it wasn't.
She said to James’s wife, "Lady Eilis…"
"Eilis, if you please."
"Alana, if you would. Did your laird husband tell you what he intends to do with me?"
"Oh, dear." Eilis suddenly looked as pale as a puff of white cloud, then rose unsteadily, holding her expanded belly, and hurried away from the table.
Her healer and a couple of maids quickly joined her as she rushed out of the hall.
"'Tis the babe," Lady Akira assured Alana. She reached over and pa
tted her hand. "James was easy on me and Malcolm, too. When I was carrying Dougald, och, he was a kicker and squirmer and unsettled my stomach something fierce. I fear Eilis is carrying such a babe."
"Dougald," Alana murmured, nearly feeling sick to her stomach herself. Not because of a babe, but with worry as to what James intended to tell her uncle. She said to Lady Akira, "Do you know what Laird MacNeill intends to do with me?"
"Oh, aye," his mother said cheerily. She squeezed her hand, and if Alana had not been so worried, she would have loved how the woman seemed to treat her as kin. "Why the perfect plan, really. On the morrow, you are to wed my Dougald, who needs a woman to tame his wild oats."
The lady’s words had barely reached Alana before she felt herself drifting into a black void, and heard nothing more.
***
Dougald carried Alana in his arms to her guest chamber, irritated with his mother for telling Alana he would wed her on the morrow and that the news had caused the lass such grief that she had fainted dead away. He had fully intended to tell the lass how much he wished to marry her.
James had the gall to laugh at him before Dougald carried her out of the great hall. Not hatefully, but just highly amused. He'd always scorned him for having such a reputation with the lasses, but a lot of it was exaggerated. Every time a lass was breeding and she was not married, Dougald was suspected as having been the father. Even when he was away on Crusade, or even when he was with Malcolm seeking an English bride south of the border. The timing could not have been proper for him to have spawned so many bastards, yet, there it was. He was the perfect man to lay blame to.
He hadn't even been with a woman in…over four months, he guessed. So it wasn't as though anytime a wench smiled wickedly at him, he lifted her skirt and had his way with her.
He placed Alana on the bed where two maids hurried to see to her as his mother walked into the room and gave him a brilliant smile.
"I believe she adores you already," she said.
