MacLean's Passion: A Highland Pride Novel (7 page)

“No’ now, lass.” Evan whispered something to Gilroy, who motioned to Fitzroy, who nodded and marched MacLean toward the prison cells attached to the gatehouse. MacLean was limping, and Maggie knew that he was still weak from the fever.

“Evan, ye have to let MacLean go. He’s—”

“We’ll speak about it in a moment,” Evan said as he walked away.

Maggie ran around him and stopped in front of him, bringing Evan to halt. “Ye have to listen to me, Evan. MacLean—”

Evan’s look went cold, his expression hardened, and his eyes flashed a warning that she couldn’t ignore.

Maggie took a step back and looked around. People in the courtyard were watching, and she realized her mistake. She’d questioned the chief’s decision in front of everyone. As much as she wanted to argue with him, now was not the time or place.

“I’ll meet with ye in the solar,” Evan said a little more softly but with steel in his voice. “Do no’ think to no’ be there.”

He marched away, leaving Maggie in the middle of the courtyard, frustrated and helpless. She glared at Gilroy. “What did ye tell him?” she demanded.

“Just the honest truth, lass.” And Gilroy walked away, following Evan.

Maggie entered the castle and walked through the great hall. They were between meals, so there weren’t many servants about, just a few girls carrying linens up to the bedchambers and one sweeping by the hearth. Maggie felt their stares. She kept her eyes on her shoes and put one foot in front of the other. Slinking into her home after being chastised by Evan and fearing for MacLean’s life after the fury she’d witnessed in Evan was not how she’d wanted to return home. What the hell had Gilroy said?

She entered the solar before her brother, collapsed into a chair, and scooted down until her butt was almost falling off and her legs were spread wide. She stared at her trousers, caked with all kinds of disgusting things she didn’t want to think about, while her eyes filled with useless tears. Evan was furious with her and MacLean was sitting in the dungeon and she had no idea how to fix any of it.

She heard a noise behind her and quickly swiped her wet eyes with the back of her dirty hand before twisting around. Then she returned to her slumped position. “Oh, it’s ye.”

For many years Maggie had led a good life. She’d liked who she was. She didn’t like wearing gowns and sitting before the fire to mend and sew and do all that nonsense. She’d rather be out in the lists, fighting with the men, or mucking out stalls, and Evan hadn’t minded any of that. He’d encouraged her wild ways and had been proud of the little warrior he’d helped create.

Until one day, that wasn’t the way of it; he’d started talking about how she needed to act like a lady. She’d been hurt and confused by this sudden change of heart.

Weeks later, she’d discovered why.

Innis.

Innis with the perfect blond hair and perfect blue eyes and perfect figure. She never cursed. She barely raised her voice. She could command the servants with nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

And Evan had fallen in love.

Maggie despised Innis.

Because from that moment on, all Maggie heard was “
Innis this”
and “
Innis that
.”

Suddenly, it wasn’t good to fight like a man or curse like a man.

Innis glided across the room to stand before Maggie. That was how Innis moved. She didn’t walk; she glided. It was a mystery how she did it.

“I’m glad to see ye,” Innis said in her infuriatingly soft way.

Maggie tucked her chin into her chest, knowing she was acting like a child but unable to stop herself. In her opinion, her idyllic life had ended when Innis had appeared.

“Are ye well?” Innis asked.

“Well enough,” Maggie said.

“Evan was worried.”

Maggie straightened until she was sitting a little more appropriately. “I suppose ye and my brother are married by now.”

Innis folded her hands in front of her. There was no condemnation in her eyes, nothing except concern, and that made Maggie feel like a horrible person. Innis was so damn…perfect.

“We thought about waiting, but when weeks passed and ye did no’ turn up…Well, we thought the worst. Evan was devastated.”

“No’ devastated enough, apparently.” So her brother had thought her dead and decided to marry. That hurt.

“He was beside himself,” Innis said, again with no condemnation. Did the woman even have a hateful thought in her head? “I’m glad ye’re here,” she said quietly. “Evan is relieved as well.”

“He did no’ sound like it.” Maggie chose to ignore the backbreaking hug Evan had given her and instead thought of the anger in his eyes.

“He’ll be angry for a bit, but trust me, he’s happy to see ye.”

Silence passed between them. Maggie had no idea what to say to this person who was now part of her family and so different that she couldn’t even begin to relate.

“Do ye need anything?” Innis asked.

“A bath, but I suppose that will have to wait for Evan to flog me.”

“He’ll no’ flog ye.”

Maggie snorted. “A lot ye know of him.”

“He’ll answer to me if he flogs ye.” There was such steel in Innis’s voice that Maggie looked up in surprise, but before she could remark upon it, the door opened and Evan strode in.

Immediately, Maggie stood and wiped her hands down her dirty trousers. She shot a glance at Innis but wished she hadn’t. Innis was looking at Evan with so much love that it made Maggie wince. This was her
brother,
for the love of all that was holy. She didn’t need to be seeing this. Then she looked at her brother and almost rolled her eyes. He had a foolish smile on his face that made him look like an
ijit
.

“I can leave if ye need privacy,” she muttered.

“Do no’ even try it,” Evan said. Innis offered him her cheek and Evan kissed it as his arm snaked around her waist.

Quickly, Innis stepped away and smiled at Evan. “I’ll leave ye to yer talk.” She deliberately looked at Maggie. “Send for me if ye need me.”

Maggie watched Innis glide out of the room, confused by the woman. Why would she ally herself with Maggie against her own husband?

The door closed behind her and Maggie turned to her brother, swallowing in apprehension.

Evan sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Maggie…”

Maggie lifted her chin. She couldn’t discern the expression in Evan’s eyes, and that was almost as bad as knowing what he was thinking. “Ye need to release MacLean.”

He dropped his hand and stared at her in surprise. “I
need
to release him?”

She almost backed down at his soft voice. That softness meant he was barely holding on to an anger that could erupt at any time. But stupidly, she didn’t heed the warning in her head.

“Ye need to.”

“He molested ye,” he nearly yelled, making her flinch.

So
that
was what Gilroy had told him? That MacLean had molested her? Oh, dear Lord. “He kissed me, ye dolt.”

“That’s molesting ye!” She rolled her eyes and Evan pointed a shaking finger at her. “Do no’ be rolling those eyes at me, lass. Ye’re in a fine bit of trouble.”

“I may be in trouble, but it’s no’ for kissing MacLean. He saved my life, Evan. Ye have to let him go. Please,” she added when it seemed he wouldn’t budge in his convictions.

“Gilroy saw ye.”

“Of course Gilroy saw us. How else would ye know that MacLean was kissing me?”

“Gilroy said he was molesting ye.” Evan’s tone seemed a little less sure, but he wasn’t backing down yet.

“Gilroy is an ass.”

“I’ve told ye before, stop cursing like that.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s no’ ladylike.”

She threw her arms out to the sides. “Have ye looked at me? I’ve never been ladylike. I’ve always cussed and sworn and wore breeches.”

His jaw worked and she held her breath, waiting for what he would say next. It seemed they were always at odds lately. She’d blamed Innis but she wasn’t entirely sure she could put this one at Innis’s feet.

“I raised ye wrong, Maggie. I see that now. Our mother would be appalled if she saw ye, and I’d be embarrassed if she knew ye dressed and acted this way.”

Hurt and humiliated, she was shocked into silence. Though she and Evan had not seen eye to eye, never had he said anything this cutting. “I’m sorry if I embarrass ye,” she said through a throat that was threatening to close up.

Maggie had been the fifth child born of Marion and Matthew Sinclair. The three between Maggie and Evan died, two at childbirth and one of a breathing sickness when he was four years old. Their father lived five more years after his wife’s death, but Evan always said that Matthew Sinclair was never the same after that. Evan was fifteen when their father passed, Maggie five.

Evan knew nothing about raising little girls. She’d had nannies who had tried to make her more civilized, but Maggie loved her brother and would escape to find him wherever he may be. Eventually, she became his shadow. If he trained, she trained. If he wore breeches, she wore breeches. And that seemed to be well and good until now.

Now she was an embarrassment not only to him but to their dead mother as well.

“Ye don’ embarrass me,” he said wearily. “But it’s far past time ye start acting like what ye are.”

“And what am I?”

“A woman.”

“I do no’ want to act like a woman.”

“Well, ye must,” he said in exasperation. “What will ye do for the rest of yer life? Do ye think to keep running away to fight in battles? My God, Maggie, do ye know how worried I was when I found out ye went to Culloden?”

His voice cracked, and whatever Maggie was about to say dried up in her throat. She saw now what her absence had done to him. There were worry lines around his eyes. He looked older, more worn. Defeated. Had she done that to him by being reckless and running away when she should have stayed and argued?

“I’m sorry I ran away,” she said weakly. “But I felt I had no other choice.”

“I’m sorry ye felt that way, but marrying is no’ a death sentence.”

So he hadn’t reversed his decision, as she’d hoped. Her absence hadn’t changed anything other than making her more determined not to marry. How the hell was she supposed to go from the freedom she lived here to imprisonment by a husband? She’d just escaped prison and had no desire to go back, even if it was a prison of a different sort.

“I’m no’ marrying Fraser. He’s a
scrote
.”

Evan made a strangled sound. “Maggie,” he moaned. “Yer language.”

“He
is,
and I will no’ wed him, no matter what ye say.”

His look turned serious. “Yes, ye will.”

“Why? What have I done to make ye hate me so much that ye’ll make me marry that
scro
—”

“Stop right now.” He pointed at her and she shut her mouth. With a growl, he spun around and paced away from her to run a hand through his hair. “Ye near destroyed me, lass, when I couldn’t find ye. And then I found out ye went to fight. I looked for ye on that battlefield. How do ye think I felt, knowing ye were there somewhere and I could no’ protect ye? And when ye did no’ come back, I was worried sick. I did no’ know if ye’d been killed or taken prisoner, and I could no’ go around asking the damn English.”

With each word, Maggie felt smaller and smaller, until she wanted to crawl into herself and disappear. She’d been angry at Evan for forging a betrothal contract with Fraser. So she’d left, thinking her time away would change Evan’s mind. She’d had no idea what battle was really like. She’d envisioned glory and victory. She’d envisioned killing a few evil Englishmen, only to discover they were as young and as scared as she, and better equipped and better trained. She’d seen things that kept her awake at night and haunted her during the day. Things she would never forget.

And then she’d been thrown in the English prison and everything she’d known had been turned around and she’d realized what a fool she’d been her whole life. And how much Evan had shielded her from the evils of the world. Despite all of that, she held fast to her vow not to marry Fraser.

Evan turned to her. “I let ye do what ye wanted all yer life, Maggie, but in this I am firm. Fraser will arrive in a few days’ time, and ye will treat him with respect. Ye damn well will wear a proper gown and act like a proper lady.”

Stunned, Maggie could only stand there and look at her brother. Evan was throwing her away to a man she did not even know, and there was naught she could do unless she was willing to run away again. And look what had happened the last time she tried that. Was she willing to risk another stay in an English prison?

He leaned over his desk and planted his fists on it. “Acting like a lad was all well and good when ye were younger, but ye’re no’ a girl anymore and I have to think about yer future. I’ve kept yer disappearance quiet by saying you were staying with friends. If anyone discovers what ye’ve done—if Fraser discovers what ye’ve done…” His voice trailed off, and Maggie got the impression that she didn’t want to know what would happen if people found out she’d spent time on a battlefield and behind bars.

Her anger rose swift and hot and she said the first thing that came to her mind, which wasn’t necessarily the smartest thing. “My behavior was fine until
she
arrived.”

He raised a brow and straightened away from the desk. “She?”

Maggie waved her hand toward the door. “Innis.”

“Innis has nothing to do with this.”

Innis had everything to do with this but Maggie kept her mouth shut on that thought. Things had changed while she was gone. Truth be told, things had changed before she’d left.

“I’m not marrying,” she said instead, choosing that battle because arguing about Innis was pointless. They were wed and obviously in love.

“Ye canno’ stay here for the rest of yer life,” he said softly.

The breath rushed out of Maggie. She felt like she’d been hit in the stomach with the flat end of a broadsword.

She raised her chin and buried the hurt. Apparently, she was no longer welcome here whether she was wed or not. Very well. She would figure something out. Something other than being shackled to a man who would make her wear gowns and darn his smelly stockings and push out his babes and probably die in the birthing process.

MacLean would take her with him. Oh, he’d balk and sputter, but in the end he would agree because she’d proved that he could trust her and she was good at what she did.

“Are ye going to free MacLean?” she asked through a tight throat.

“Tell me how he saved yer life and why he was molesting ye—” He held up his hand to stop her protest. “Kissing ye.”

She told him about Culloden. About being arrested and pretending to be a boy, something she was very good at. She told him about being cellmates with MacLean and how, the night before their escape, Campbell had come and talked to him, and then she told Evan about her escape.

“He did no’ have to take me,” she said. “He barely knew me. We’d spoken maybe a dozen words in the two weeks we were held captive together.”

“Campbell,” Evan muttered in disgust. “Surely MacLean has no’ allied himself with that bastard.”

“He did no’ seem to like Campbell all that much. They had words at first, then MacLean walked to the door and I could no’ hear what they said.”

“Interesting that Campbell would release MacLean. I wonder what that’s all about.”

Maggie didn’t know, nor did she care all that much. She was free thanks to this Campbell and she doubted she’d ever see the man again.

“So will ye release MacLean?” she asked.

She didn’t like the look Evan gave her. There was something brewing in his mind and that made her guarded.

“That depends.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “On what?”

“I want yer word that ye’ll be nice to Fraser and ye’ll wear gowns while he’s here and act like a lady.”

She couldn’t believe Evan was doing this to her, couldn’t believe he was betraying her in this way. He was making her choose, and it the most horrible choice of her life. Her freedom for MacLean’s.

“Margaret,” he warned when she didn’t answer right away.

“Don’ call me that.” She hated her name. Margaret. It sounded too stuffy and rigid. MacLean had risked his life to save hers. She could surely wear a gown and say a few pretty words to a man she didn’t like. It didn’t mean she had to marry him.

“I’ll do it.” She couldn’t believe what those words cost her, but more than that, she couldn’t believe what Evan was asking of her.

Colin was surprised when he was let out of his cell. The man who’d attacked him in the clearing—Gilroy?—opened the door and motioned him out. “Ye’re free, but the Sinclair wants to speak to ye.”

Colin hesitated, sensing a trap, but Gilroy simply waited. He was a big man who wore a constant scowl. He looked at Colin with watchful, suspicious eyes, his body tense. Colin could have told him not to worry, that he barely had enough inside to stand upright, let alone fight a giant.

The suddenness of the bright sun made him blink and sway. His body had taken one hell of a beating in that clearing and his ribs hurt like the devil. He knew he hadn’t fully recovered from whatever illness had taken him down in the cave, and it was threatening to return.

He wasn’t mentally or physically prepared to meet Evan Sinclair, but he had no choice. No doubt the man would be mighty angry that Colin was caught kissing his sister.

Gilroy led Colin through the bailey and into the great hall. Colin looked around curiously, automatically searching for Maggie. He was surprised by how much he wanted to see her, then told himself it was because Maggie was the only ally he had here. But it was also because of Maggie that he was here in the first place, beaten and sore.

He remembered the way she had gone after Gilroy and the other two on his behalf. She’d been like a mother bear protecting her cubs, and despite the fact that he’d been getting his ribs kicked in, he’d admired her fighting spirit. He remembered the look she gave him when they first arrived in the bailey, and more than anything he remembered the way she’d faced her brother on his behalf and had been roughly rebuffed.

When he didn’t see her in the great hall, he tried to control his disappointment. Maybe she was with her brother and he would see her there. He had to hurry to keep up with Gilroy, who hadn’t even looked to make sure Colin was keeping pace. It was bad practice to have a prisoner walk behind you. Colin could easily take Gilroy from behind, but he wasn’t going to do that. In his opinion, he was in enemy territory. One against a hundred. Those weren’t good odds. Besides, Gilroy had said he was free. He needed to find out what that meant.

They went up a set of steps and into what he assumed was the Sinclair’s solar. He paused to catch his breath, cursing himself for being so damn weak.

Evan was not alone, but neither was he with Maggie. A beautiful woman sat primly on the edge of a chair, her hands neatly folded in her lap, her eyes downcast. Colin had never seen anyone so ethereal. She was perfect in every way, from her white-blond hair to her alabaster skin and sky-blue eyes. She smiled at him and he blinked.

Evan cleared his throat, pulling Colin’s gaze from the woman to him.

“Colin MacLean.” Evan strode forward. “It’s pleased I am to finally meet ye and sorry I am about the circumstances. I’m Evan Sinclair, chief of the Sinclairs, and this is my wife, Innis Sinclair.”

Innis stood and tipped her head to him. “I’ll leave ye men to yer talk.” Even her voice was perfect. “If ye need anything, please send for me.” She looked Colin up and down with a worried frown. “Are ye well?”

“No. But I gather I’ll survive.”

Her eyes narrowed and she flicked a censoring glance at Evan. “I’ll have a room prepared for ye. And a bath. Sleep might help some.”

Sleep would help a lot, and he was relieved to hear that he was to be given a room and not another prison cell. Maybe he truly was free.

Innis left and Evan looked him over. “I’ve heard of ye, MacLean.”

Things never ended well when they started like that. “And I ye, Sinclair.” It was strange to call the man Sinclair, because in Colin’s mind, Sinclair was Maggie.

“Margaret says ye saved her life.”

Margaret. Margaret didn’t fit her, but Maggie did. Margaret was stuffy and prim and proper. Maggie was none of that.

“And she mine.”