Highlander Unmasked Read online

  His gaze flickered over her. His eyes narrowed, noticing Meg’s disheveled appearance and unmistakably swollen lips. He schooled his features into a mask of equanimity, though rage rushed through his veins. It was obvious what they had been doing. The bitch would pay for soiling herself. And MacLeod would die for touching her.

  He should have rid himself of Alex MacLeod four years ago. Dougal didn’t regret many things in his life, but not eliminating Alex MacLeod when he had the chance was one of them. Almost immediately, Dougal had regretted that rare display of mercy at Cuillin when he’d spared Alex’s life. Although young, Dougal had recognized Alex’s potential danger: Alex would demand vengeance for the deaths of his kin.

  He did not usually leave such volatile loose ends.

  But at the time, he’d been more concerned about Alex’s brother. There was no question that Rory MacLeod would have avenged his brother’s death. Dougal would have been a marked man. But Dougal now realized that he’d only traded one vengeful enemy for another.

  But he didn’t waste his time on regrets, not when they would soon be rectified.

  The opportunity to take care of Alex MacLeod would materialize, and he would be ready.

  “What are you doing here?” MacLeod demanded. Obviously, he’d noticed the palace guards, or Dougal felt certain he would have relished the opportunity to use the sword he had only now just lowered.

  Dougal ignored him, addressing Meg instead. He was finding it difficult to look at her ravished face while hiding his anger, but he did his best to sound the concerned suitor. “When you did not return, your mother became worried,” he explained. “I offered to ride out after you. I can see that it was a good thing I did. Are you all right? What happened?” He leapt down from his horse and started toward her.

  “I’m fine. We were attacked,” Meg said, and provided him with a brief description of what had happened.

  To reach her, Dougal had to pass a number of bodies. He recognized one.

  Stupid fool, he thought, stepping over Thomas Mackinnon. He couldn’t pretend to be upset. He was glad to be rid of Thomas Mackinnon. MacLeod had done him a favor in ridding him of a man who’d outlived his usefulness. Initially, he’d planned to gain the Mackinnon’s land through Thomas Mackinnon—a disgruntled man who valued his skills far beyond their worth. Mackinnon was only too happy to find a sympathetic ear in Dougal. But it had all changed once Meg had rejected her father’s captain. Then, when Dougal had arrived at Dunakin, he’d changed his mind and decided to marry her himself. The change of plans had not sat well with Thomas Mackinnon, and he’d decided to take matters into his own hands. The fool could have ruined everything.

  As he drew closer, Dougal noticed the awkwardness between the two. Maybe he was wrong. A bit of his anger dissipated.

  “Come,” he said, holding out his hand to her. “This is no place for you. Let me take you to your mother. My men will see to cleaning up this mess.” He had to restrain himself from slapping her when Meg looked at Alex, as if begging him to disagree.

  Alex stood immovable, making no claim. Dougal smiled, realizing that it must gall MacLeod no end to have her go with his enemy. He could only imagine how furious it would make him when Dougal announced their betrothal. Dougal had waited too long already to ask for her.

  MacLeod was up to something. Something that prevented him from pursuing Meg Mackinnon, though it was clear he wanted her. Dougal knew the man, as well as any man would know a prisoner he’d watched over—and tried to break—for months. MacLeod was involved in something, and Dougal guessed that it probably involved the Isle of Lewis. Any resistance by the Highlanders to the arrival of the Fife Adventurers on Lewis would come from Rory MacLeod; and his loyal brother, Alex, would not be far behind.

  He would bear watching. Any information Dougal uncovered was bound to be well rewarded by Seton. Being forced to pander to a man like Seton chafed. Lord Chancellor Seton treated all Highlanders with scorn, not discriminating between men of obvious civility like himself and useless scourges like the MacLeods.

  But Dougal would smile and nod, acting the loyal cur, grateful for the meager scraps from the master’s hand. It would be worth it in the end. The MacDonalds would be well rewarded by King James for betraying the Highland rebellion. Though Dougal didn’t approve of King James’s methods, he approved of his gold. Any hesitation Dougal felt about betraying his fellow Highlanders was tempered by the fact that it was the MacLeods who would suffer. And this MacLeod in particular.

  “Thank you for your offer,” Meg said. “But I would like to see to my men.”

  Dougal bit back his anger, knowing she wanted to stay with MacLeod. He smiled stiffly. “I’m sure MacLeod will see to it.” He looked meaningfully at Alex, who didn’t disagree, and then turned back to Meg. “Your mother was quite concerned. I really think you should come now.”

  Meg gave Alex one more pathetically heartbroken glance before she turned, reluctantly, to accept Dougal’s assistance. “Very well, I’ll go.”

  Perhaps Alex’s rejection of the chit would work right into his hands. He would ask for her tonight, while she was still vulnerable. He would take her mind off Alex MacLeod. There really was no comparison.

  Chapter 13

  The gentle tinkle of laughter sliced across the din of the crowd, drawing his gaze like a fiery beacon to the woman across the room. Meg stood beside her mother, Elizabeth, Jamie Campbell, and a handful of other men, laughing at something one of the men had said. Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight with the warm effervescence of her laughter.

  Laughter that stabbed like a dirk in Alex’s gut.

  Did she have to look so damn beautiful? Taunting him in a delightful concoction of white and pale gold that displayed all the womanly curves of her delectable figure. Curves that Alex remembered all too well. Soft waves of chestnut fell in beguiling curls down her back, emphasizing the snowy whiteness of her skin. Skin that had felt as smooth as velvet under his hands and tasted like honey. He knew he was staring, glowering actually, but he could not stop himself.

  Jealousy ate at his resolve like acid.

  He’d been like this all week. Anxious. Angry. Twisted into a tight ball of knots; feeling as though he were ready to explode. He told himself it was because Rory was due to arrive any day with the orders that would send him to the Isle of Lewis, but he knew the real reason was the beautiful woman holding court across the room.

  Watching Meg be wooed by a bevy of suitors, knowing he could do nothing about it, was pure torture. This feeling of powerlessness for a man of action like Alex was both alien and unnatural. What he wanted to do was stake his claim in the most primitive way. Right now, he felt every inch the barbarian that Lowlanders claimed.

  He knew he had no right to feel jealous. She needed what he could not give her: a marriage proposal. She had every right to look elsewhere. Why was he so damn angry that she would do so?

  He tossed back what remained of his claret and slammed the empty goblet down on the card table with frustration. Nothing could calm the tangle of knots coiling inside him.

  Not even the knowledge that he was doing the right thing.

  But right or not, letting Meg go was the hardest thing he’d ever done. The memory of her face before she’d ridden away with Dougal MacDonald haunted him. The hurt. The confusion. The tender plea that tore at his conscience. He hated causing her pain, no matter the cause.

  Nor could he get what almost happened between them out of his mind.

  He couldn’t forget the feel of her mouth under his. Of the soft silk of her breast. Of the honey dampness between her legs. And of the ecstasy on her face as she shattered in his arms. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to fight the overwhelming urge to take her into his arms and finish what they’d started.

  If only it were simply about lust. But it was so much more than that. The feelings Meg aroused in him were like nothing that had come before. He admired everything about her. Her beauty, her intelligence, her frank