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Authors: Teresa J Reasor

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“She will not accept you, Alexander.” Collin’s features were taut as he

knelt to feed dried peat and small branches to the fire to build up the

meager blaze.

“You’re her father. She has to obey you.”

The man’s blue eyes, just a few shades darker than his daughter’s,

settled on him. “The church will not recognize a marriage where the bride is

forced to speak the vows agin her will.” He raked his fingers through his

thick mane of white hair, his movements angry and impatient.

“Mayhap you should plead the bairn’s case, instead of mine,”

Alexander suggested. “I have no wish to separate the babe from her.”

“What would you have me say?”

He studied the older man. He was amazed by Collin’s ineptitude. “The

bairn needs a mother. If we wed, she will not have to be separated from it

and the bairn will have my name to protect him from the slander of being

called a bastard. She will not wish that for him.”

Collin eyed him gravely. “She will not agree to anything that gives you

the right to lay hands on her again.”

Alexander fell silent a moment. His attention turned to the

impenetrable darkness of the cavern beyond. She had made that plain

enough.

“‘Tis a fact your entire clan can do little but take, and take, and forever

lust for more- more power, more land, and now more of what you had. You

had not the patience to wait before. There’s no reason why she should

believe you will now.”

The older man spoke a truth with which he had to agree. There had

been a brief moment when he could have stopped, might have even done

so. With one taste of her response, the die had been caste. He had done

what he had believed was best, hadn’t he? He had asked himself that

question a hundred times and still could not find the answer. Now she

carried his child. She hated him for it, that was plain enough. Perhaps she

hated the child as well, and was eager to be rid of it.

He spoke the words he thought might persuade her to accept him. “I

will give my word, I will not touch her again until she gives me leave to do

so.”

Collin grinned with obvious amusement. “You will be in for a long wait,

lad, if she agrees.”

Alexander ignored the other man’s attempts to bait him. “That should

please you, MacLachlan, and give her time to exact no small revenge as

well. Mayhap you should suggest that to her.” He turned and stalked from

the cave.

****

Collin squatted near the fire.

Mary watched him from her position just beyond the entrance to the

chamber. His mane of hair appeared more white than blond. In the

flickering firelight his pale brows shadowed his deep-set blue eyes. She

sought and found no similarities in his features to her own. She was her

mother’s daughter in all, but coloring.

“He is gone, Mary. You have nothing to fear, lass.”

Slowly she came forward, checking the darkened areas for movement.

She squatted on the opposite side of the fire, careful to keep her distance

from him. The skirt of her gown, streaked with moisture from the rocks of

the cavern, hung in cloying folds against her legs. She felt chilled and drew

her tartan cloak more closely around her, but did not set aside the

crossbow.

“You look ill, lass.”

She felt ill. Her strength ebbed and flowed upon its own tide as much

as the sickness that came to her in unexpected moments. “Your concern is

touching, Father.”

Collin’s jaw tensed at her tone.

She brushed back a stray curl from her forehead. “You are truly a fool if

you believe anything he says.”

“He is a Campbell. If he offers a pledge he will keep it.”

Rage rose up to take her breath and for a moment she could not

speak. “Nay! I shan’t agree to anything that will bind me to him.”

“The bairn will bind you to him, Mary. You’ll have to make your peace

with him, for the child’s sake.”

“I shall never have to see him again after this day.”

“You can not truly mean to give up your child,” he argued, his tone

laced with amazement.

“It did not seem to trouble you over much to give up yours,” she

taunted.

Collin sighed and lowered his eyes to the fire. “We but followed

custom, lass.”

“Aye, a custom that denies a child its mother, and makes it easier for a

father to think of it as a pawn upon the political chessboard of this shire.”

She drew a deep breath, suddenly so tired she longed to lie down on the

hard ground and rest. She forced herself to her feet instead. “Go home,

Collin and forget you ever had a daughter named Mary. I will no longer be a

party to your plans.”

He rose, his features harsh with control. “My only plan now, Daughter,

is to protect you from further harm.”

She stifled a sound of disbelief. “As you did when you had me

beaten?”

“You brought it upon yourself by welcoming him into your bed. ‘Twould

have been within my rights to do worse.”

It had taken weeks for her back to heal and every breath she had

drawn had been torture. Fever had brought her close to death more than

once. For a moment, she thought how easy it would be to loose the bolt in

the crossbow. Collin must have read something in her expression for the

muscles of his face tightened and he froze.

“Neither of you shall ever lay hands upon me again.”

“‘Tis dangerous to be threatening to kill a man.” Though his blue eyes

grew cold and flat, a tick twitched in his cheek.

“‘Tis no threat.” She kept her gaze steady on his face. For once she

knew what it was to be the one in power and though she knew it wouldn’t

last, she embraced the headiness of it and the strength it gave her.

He clenched his hands into fists at his sides, his movements careful.

“I shall warn him, but ‘twill do no more good than talking to you has done.”

“What did you expect?”

His features took on a stern look. “You were not raised to be so hard-

hearted daughter.”

She ignored his attempt at reestablishing himself as the father he had

never been. “You did not raise me. You do not even know me.” She shook

her head. “I am only a piece of goods with which to barter and form your

alliances. Did you think me too ignorant to realize it? If you had looked upon

me as more, you would have looked more closely at the man to which you

promised me. Instead you saw only the name and the purpose of the deed.”

Her eyes stung. “I am nothing to you, just as I am nothing to him. ‘Twould be

a service to me if you would both think no more of me and let me live in

peace.”

“Giving up your child will not bring you peace.”

“You are probably right, but in doing it, I will be free of him, and any

debt I might owe you for siring me.” The need to weep grew like a tide

inside her. She raised her chin instead. “I am not a fool. You are not here to

defend a daughter’s honor, but to see your plans do not go awry.”

He did not deny her accusation. “There is a way in which you might

seek your revenge against him.”

She studied him, her body growing tense with distrust. “What would

you be speaking of?”

“The MacDonalds and Campbells are grave enemies. What greater

revenge than to bear the child of one within the clan of another?”

Anxious tremors slithered down her spine.

“Bearach MacDonald could be persuaded to wed you and give your

bairn a name, lass.”

A quick vision of Bearach with his thick lips and narrow eyes sent a

shiver of revulsion through her. The one time she had shared a meal with

him at her father’s table, he had grasped her hand with a proprietary air that

had made her ill at ease. His touch had been sweaty and he had purposely

pressed his heavy thigh to hers as they sat on the bench. Something in his

expression had made her feel trapped and afraid. It had taken all her will

not to bolt from the table.

“Bearach MacDonald is a pig. Do you believe I would suffer him to

touch me any more than I would Alexander Campbell?” Her ire rose once

again at his lack of care for her and her child. “‘Tis my bairn too, my own

flesh and blood. Do you believe I would bear him within the jaws of an

enemy where he would be abused, just to seek my revenge agin his

father?”

His sly expression changed to one of impatience. “‘Twould save you

from dishonor and offer you revenge in one stroke.” He turned to leave and

added over his shoulder, “‘Twould serve you well to think upon it.”

She listened to Collin’s receding footsteps as he left the cave.

The hint of a threat in his words had fear curling in her belly. She

placed a protective hand over the fragile life within her. “Never!” she

murmured to herself.

****

Alexander surveyed the two camps stationed close to the cave

entrance. Campbell clansmen had claimed the west side of the hillside.

While he had been inside the cave, campfires had been lit and the men had

organized the camp into stations of food, shelter, and horses. As he

watched, men broke away from the main body to stand watch at all four

corners of the area.

The MacLachlan men had set up camp on the east side of the craig

closer to the cave. Two men stood guard just outside the opening, while

others took their watch to the north and south of the camp. Alexander’s

attention rested on the two guards at the entrance. He wondered if they

were there to protect Mary from him or to hold her prisoner for her father.

She seemed no more enamored of Collin than she was with him.

“How does she fare, Brother?” Duncan asked as he joined him.

“Carrying the child has made her ill, but her hate for me is strong.”

Duncan smiled. “Sounds as though she shall fit well into our family.”

Not amused by the comment, Alexander flashed him a frown.

“Mayhap the child will be a girl and you will learn first hand what ‘tis to

defend a daughter’s honor.”

His brother’s humorous jibes irritated him, for there was no way he

could defend himself. His gaze settled on the MacLachlan clansmen who

squatted about a campfire a short distance away, then moved to his own

men. The two clans were as divided by his actions as they had been before.

“Has she truly been alone up here since that night?” Duncan asked.

“Nay. She has been cloistered at the abbey. ‘Twas only when the good

Father saw fit to notify Collin of her condition, she left the kirk to go into

hiding here.”

“Has it occurred to you, Brother, that you might not be the only one to

have had her?” Duncan tossed more peat on the fire. “The countryside is

crawling with Scotsmen who would take advantage of a woman.”

He focused on Duncan’s face and shook his head. “She was a virgin

when I took her. The bairn is mine.”

Duncan shrugged. “‘Twas but a thought. ‘Twould give you a way out.”

Alexander studied his brother’s features, so much like his own. Would

Duncan turn away so easily if it were his child of which they spoke? He

thought not. “‘Twould suit her if I did not claim the child, Duncan. She wants

to be rid of me. If she thought she could achieve that by claiming another

sire for the bairn, she would have done so already. There has been no one

else.”

Duncan nodded. “So what are you going to do?”

Alexander looked toward the mouth of the cave. “I am going to hold her

to the contract. I shall use the bairn to coax her to Castle Lorne and try to

keep her there.”

Duncan’s gray eyes held a speculative light as he studied him. “Why

this lass? What is different about her that she should hold your interest so

completely?”

She had belonged to him from the moment he had claimed her

virginity. Nay before that. “She carries my child. She belongs to me.”

“‘Twould seem she does not wish to, Brother.”

“Fate has deemed it otherwise, Duncan, and I am going to see it

through.”

Duncan made a sound of impatient disgust. “Your head is as thick as

yon tree.” His features creased in a scowl as he gestured toward a huge

oak nearby.

Alexander curbed his impatience with an effort. “Would you have me

abandon my own child?”

“Nay. You can recognize the child as yours without pressing the lass to

wed.”

Alexander flicked his hand in a negative gesture. “I will not have my

son known as a bastard. She will wed me because she has no other

choice.”

Duncan shrugged his shoulders. “I would not wager on that. Women

do not always see things as we do.”

“She’s a noblewoman. Having her pride split asunder by the judgment

of her own clan will persuade her.” He spoke with greater conviction than he

felt. The reckless anger he had seen in her face did not bode well for an

easy end to the matter.

Alexander wrapped the extra fabric of his kilt around his torso and

squatted close to the fire. The night had grown chill and his thoughts rested

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