Claimed by the Highlander (29 page)

A jolt of shock distracted Gwendolen from her queasiness. Her voice faded to a disbelieving hush. “What do you mean, he lied? Why would he do that?”

“
Shh,
you’ll wake him. Just come with me now, and I will explain everything.”

She made a move to leave, but Gwendolen resisted. “No, Mother. I don’t want to go with you. I want to ask my husband what this is about.” She turned to go back inside.

Onora grabbed hold of her sleeve. “Wait! Please let me explain first. We don’t know who we can trust.”

“We can trust my husband,” Gwendolen firmly assured her.

Her mother shook her head. “No, we cannot.”

Chapter Twenty-five

Onora led Gwendolen into the solar. She stopped just inside the door and felt as if she were staring at a ghost.

Her brother.

Back from the dead.

“Murdoch…!”

She dashed across the room, straight into his arms. Here he was—the brother who had taught her how to ride a horse, how to shoot a musket, and how to play shinty with the boys. He was not dead. He was here!

“You’re alive.”
She buried her face in his shoulder, while her body shuddered with a weeping flood of wonder and relief. How she had longed for his return, for so many, many months.

“Aye, my darlin’ lassie.” He held her close. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come home when you needed me. I heard it was difficult.”

She stepped back and laid a hand on his cheek, while she looked into his eyes and noted the changes in his appearance. His straight brown hair was cropped short, and his skin was deeply bronzed from the sun. It had been almost a year since she had seen him last. There were tiny lines at the outer corners of his warm brown eyes, where there had been none before—but he was still as handsome as ever, if not more so.

“It was difficult at first,” she replied. “But it’s better now.”

Murdoch glanced with some concern at Onora, who raised her eyebrows as if to say,
I told you so
. He then crossed to the other side of the room, where he stood for a moment with his back to them.

Gwendolen knew immediately that something was afoot—something suspect and perhaps unsavory. The MacEwens and MacDonalds were enemies, and Murdoch had not been present for all the little alliances that had formed over the past month. He knew nothing of Angus’s character and strength as a leader. He did not understand the history of her husband’s claim over Kinloch, nor did he know that Gwendolen was happy and in love. As far as Murdoch was concerned, Angus was their enemy, and their clan had been conquered and subjugated. His sister had been forced into an unwanted marriage.

“I am expecting a child,” she blurted out, hoping desperately that her brother would recognize her happiness and listen to her account of what had occurred at Kinloch since he had been gone. It was not as bad as he thought.

“Is that a fact?” Murdoch coolly replied.

“Aye.” She thought carefully about how she should explain things. “When Angus arrived and claimed the castle, it was his intention to unite our clans, and he has done so with great success.” Her brother did not turn around, so she continued to describe the situation as best she could. “He always said that if you returned, he would honor you with land and status. You must meet him, Murdoch. He is a good man, and there can be peace between the two of you, as there has been between our clans.”

At last, her brother faced her. His eyes were clouded with disdain, and his lips hardened into a thin line. “You think there is peace here?”

“Aye, I do.”

Oh God, what was happening? Had Angus indeed lied to them about her brother’s death? Or was this some other secret treachery against her husband?

Her stomach churned with a rapid infusion of frustration and anger. She did not like being kept in the dark. “Tell me what is happening here,” she demanded to know. “What are your intentions?”

Onora strode forward and took hold of her hand. “Come and sit down, Gwendolen. Listen to what your brother has to say.”

“I don’t want to sit,” she tersely replied. “I want to stand.”

Onora and Murdoch exchanged another concerned look, and Gwendolen’s anger swelled like a blazing inferno in her belly. “You told me that we could not trust Angus,” she said to her mother. “Why did you say that? Did he truly lie to us? Or was that
your
lie?”

Onora paused. “It’s complicated.”

“Mother, what have you done?”

“You may as well lay it all out in the open,” Murdoch helpfully offered, “and let her choose for herself.”

“Lay
what
out in the open?” Gwendolen asked. “Tell me what is happening here.”

Onora sat down on a wooden chair and sighed with defeat. “The man who allegedly witnessed Murdoch’s death,” she said, “was paid handsomely to…” She paused. “To
manipulate
the truth for us. Murdoch was never ill. He has been in France for quite some time, and more recently in Spain. But he’s been home for almost a month now,” she added. “He returned not long after your wedding.”

Gwendolen regarded her brother with surprise. “You’ve been here all this time? Why did you not show yourself? I was worried about you.”

“Because I had to determine the lay of the land, so to speak. I needed to know what sort of enemy I was facing. Angus is…” He hesitated.

“He is
what
?” Gwendolen demanded.

“You know it yourself, Gwen. They say he is invincible. I could hardly come marching in here on my own and go to battle with him. He can’t be beaten. He cannot be killed.”

“He’s a man, just like you,” she argued, though it was not entirely true. Angus was like no other man.

But he was not invincible. He was human in every way.

“Were you responsible for the attempt on his life?” she asked, recalling that horrific night in her bedchamber. “Did you send that clansman to kill him in his sleep?”

“Aye, but that was no ordinary clansman. I sent a skilled Spanish assassin, and even
he
could not do what needed to be done.”

She turned to her mother. “Did you assist him in this? Were you the one who provided the key?” Her blood was racing through her veins like shooting flames of hatred.

Onora lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, Gwendolen, but Murdoch is my son. I had to choose.”

Gwendolen regarded her brother and spoke with a dark and bitter loathing. “So what is your plan now?”

“There can only be one way for the great Lion to die,” he explained. “By the noose—so that is exactly how it will occur.”

“Where did you hear this?”

“From the oracle.”

Gwendolen backed away in horror. “No, this is all wrong. You are misguided. Tell him, Mother. Tell him that Raonaid is mad.”

Onora rose to her feet. “Murdoch, stop this, please. You are making it worse. Tell her about James Edward and the uprising. Tell her what you have been doing in France and Spain.”

“James Edward?” Gwendolen repeated. “The Pretender to the throne of England? Are you involved in another Jacobite uprising?” Their silence confirmed her suspicions. “But we are not Jacobites,” she argued. “This castle was awarded to Father because he was a Hanoverian. He supported the Union of Great Britain.”

Her brother paced about the room. “That was Father, not me, and the Union has never been less popular, Gwen. Even those Scots who once supported King George are bitter toward the London government. We need our own parliament here in Scotland and our own Scottish King to lead us—and now is the time to strike. It is almost certain that England will go to war with Spain before the year is out. If that occurs, the Spanish King will send ships and support us in a full attack.”

Onora broke in. “King James has promised your brother a dukedom if he succeeds in leading a Scottish rebellion. Imagine that, Gwendolen. Your brother—
a duke
.”

“But we are not Jacobites,” she repeated in disbelief, “and James Edward is not our king.”

“Not yet, but he will be,” Murdoch said.

She frowned at him and spoke with venom. “Is
that
why you left us a year ago? Is
that
why you and Father became estranged? I thought it was because of a woman.”

He glared at her in silence, and she knew she had her answer.

“Angus wants peace,” Gwendolen tried to explain, “as do I, and most members of our clan. It’s too great a risk to go to war with England. Too many will die. I am begging you, Murdoch. Let this go.”

Color rose to his cheeks. “I’ll never accept their tyranny. We must have our own parliament.”

“Then petition for it!” she shouted. “But do not drag us all into another violent and bloody battle that cannot be won!”

Heavy footsteps sounded in the doorway, and she was seized by the arms.
“Get your bluidy hands off me!”
she barked.

Onora stood up. “No, Slevyn! This is completely unnecessary. Murdoch, tell him to release her!”

Murdoch glanced uncertainly at Gwendolen, then at Onora. “I cannot,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you, Gwen, but I need Kinloch. I already have an army assembled. They’re just waiting for me to open the gates.” He pointed at Slevyn, the foul-smelling brute who was dragging her to the door. “Take her to my father’s chamber and lock her in. Keep her quiet until this is over.”

“Until
what
is over? Murdoch, what are you going to do?”

Slevyn grumbled and squeezed her around the waist. “We’re going to hang the great Lion, lassie, so that your brother can be laird.”

“But he’ll fight you to the death!” she cried. “He’ll
kill
you!”

“Nay, he will not,” Murdoch replied, “because he’s already been poisoned. All Slevyn has to do is haul him up to the rooftop and finish him off.”

“You poisoned him?” Her whole world seemed to be disintegrating in front of her eyes.

“Nay, lass,
you
did.”

She fell weak in Slevyn’s grip, as a terrible realization flooded through her.

Her mother gave her an apologetic look. “It was in the wine, Gwendolen. Some kind of sleeping potion. We got it from Raonaid.”

Gwendolen pleaded with her brother. “Murdoch,
please
…” But Slevyn was already dragging her through the door. “He is my husband, and I love him.”

Her brother turned his back on her and spoke without feeling. “I am aware of that, Gwendolen, but I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

*   *   *

Angus woke to a pounding sensation inside his skull, like a hammer ringing on an anvil, and the foggy awareness that his arms were stretched over his head, and he was being dragged across a cold, hard floor. His wrists were bound—not that it mattered, for his body was unresponsive. He barely felt the scraping of his back across the stones, and he wasn’t quite sure if his heart or lungs were even working.

“Here is good.” It was a man’s voice.

The dragging stopped. Angus’s arms fell to the ground. Slowly becoming conscious of the fact that he had been taken prisoner, his eyes opened instantly.

Gwendolen.

Christ. Where was he?

He was outside. Looking up at the stars.

How long had he been unconscious? He turned his head slightly and discovered he was lying next to a stone wall.

He turned his head the other way. Feet … A man’s legs walking by his head …

The feet stopped moving. “Shite! He’s awake!”

“Relax, Slevyn. His hands are tied, and remember, you’re bigger than he is. Just put the rope around his neck.”

A noose was slipped over his head and pulled tight.

Angus found the strength to jerk his body once, but that was all he could manage. He couldn’t seem to move his legs. Then suddenly the rope was chafing his neck as he was being dragged again across the stone floor, this time by the throat.

He couldn’t breathe!

The rope was strangling him, and he could do nothing about it, for his wrists were bound.

He was on the roof. That much he knew.

The smaller man, who had spoken first, grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him to a sitting position. Angus stared groggily into a pair of intense brown eyes.

“You’re going to be hanged,” the man told him. “We’re going to toss you over the battlements and leave your corpse dangling there for the MacEwens to gawk at for a few days. I’m Murdoch MacEwen, by the way, and this is my castle, not yours.”

“Gwendolen…” It was all he could manage to say in a rough, raspy voice.

Murdoch’s eyes darkened with spite. “Aye, that would be my sister. The one you took by force, just like you took Kinloch. I didn’t take kindly to that when I learned of it. Nor could I have done this without her. She’s the one who poisoned you, Angus. I thought you ought to know.”