Highlander Untamed Read online

  His words chilled her. “Don’t worry, Uncle, I wasn’t thinking of changing my mind. I know well what I must do. No one will suspect what I am about.”

  Realizing that Rory was still watching them, she patted the MacDonald’s hand as a beloved niece might do to reassure a doting uncle. Her expression gave no hint of the consequence of her words.

  Sleat appeared mollified. He relaxed his hold around her shoulders. “Be extremely cautious. And whatever you do, don’t allow yourself to become seduced by the MacLeod. You must be wary of him at all times—he knows well how to make a lass fall for his dubious charms.” The MacDonald drew his fingers to his chin thoughtfully.

  He continued as if thinking aloud to himself, “You are very beautiful, but young and innocent. Perhaps it would have been better…Well, no matter. It is too late now. I will send word to you soon, Isabel. As a precaution, I will use a waxed impression of this ring on my missives. Look on it well, memorize the design so that you will recognize it.”

  Isabel took his hand and scrutinized the large ring etched with the badge of Sleat. For Rory’s benefit, she even leaned down to kiss his hand as if in homage to the chief of the family. If Rory were still watching, her study of the ring would not look too peculiar. The ring contained an armored fist holding a cross with the motto of Sleat scrolled across the top: Per Mare per Terras, “By Land or by Sea.”

  “I’ll know it, Uncle. You’d best be on your way before I have to explain what we were talking about. I wouldn’t want to arouse Rory’s suspicions.”

  “Very well, then, good hunting to you, lass.” The MacDonald snickered with a lewd yellow smirk.

  With a heavy sigh of relief, Isabel watched him go. Something about the man made her skin crawl. Her uncle was undoubtedly a powerful chief. But he inspired fear, not devotion.

  There was no denying Sleat’s cruel edge. His brutal repudiation of Rory’s sister proved that. It had been done for political purposes. The MacDonald had been carefully building support for his bid to reclaim the ancient fiefdom of the Lordship of the Isles lost by Clan Donald over one hundred years ago. It was simple: The MacLeods were out of the king’s favor, and the Mackenzies were not. Her uncle needed royal support if he was to reclaim the political power that went with the title Lord of the Isles. Thus, Margaret MacLeod became expendable. Isabel may have understood the motivation, but to reject the woman by ridiculing her misfortune seemed unduly harsh. Of course, that too must have been the point. The MacLeod would be forced to retaliate, and her uncle had hoped to destroy them with feuding. But the MacLeod continued to be a thorn in the side of the MacDonalds. A thorn that she was to remove.

  Sleat did not want simply to increase the power of the clan, he wanted to rule western Scotland and the Isles without interference from the king—or MacLeod. Knowing the king, Isabel thought the idea far-fetched. Nevertheless, it wasn’t her job to wonder about the legitimacy of her uncle’s plan; her job was to succeed. And to succeed, she needed Rory. Or more precisely, she needed Rory’s love and trust.

  Perhaps the MacDonald’s quick departure was not such a bad thing. Clearly, Rory loathed her uncle. Sleat’s presence undoubtedly reminded Rory of his sister’s tragedy. And that certainly wouldn’t help her cause.

  She drew up her shoulders and shook off her despondency. It would do no good to brood. She had a job to do. She would make her family proud of her, and then she could leave this dismal place. A year would not come soon enough. At least she hadn’t been completely abandoned. Bessie had agreed to stay for a few months to help her get settled.

  “You shouldn’t be standing out here in the rain.”

  Startled, Isabel jumped, her feet skidding on the stone walk of the battlements. She felt the heat of his body and the hard shield of his chest behind her as he steadied and then promptly released her.

  She knew who it was before she turned.

  Her heart had leapt for a moment, thinking from his words that he might be concerned. But when she met his blank gaze, she knew it was not so. The man had a face about as yielding as stone.

  “I wanted to make sure my kinsmen departed safely. I hoped that they might reconsider and remain at Dunvegan until the storm passed.”

  She winced, knowing that she sounded defensive.

  “Well, you can see that they have gone. Return to the keep and dry yourself before you catch a chill.”

  His brusque tone, coupled with the acute loneliness she was feeling at the moment, stung. She nodded, unable to keep the wounded expression from her face.

  He must have noticed, for he let out an exasperated sigh and offered her some semblance of reassurance. “’Tis for the best, lass. Your uncle will never be welcome at Dunvegan. And after the trouble yesterday, tensions between the clans were running high. The MacLeods and MacDonalds will never be friends.”

  Isabel thought she detected another warning in his voice. “Friends perhaps not. But no longer enemies. Our handfast has put an end to the feud.”

  His mouth tightened. “For a year, at least,” he qualified. Isabel experienced a moment of panic, thinking that perhaps he’d overheard something. But then he continued, “It will take longer than a year to repair the damage of a lifetime of feuding.”

  “But it is a good beginning,” she said. Something else was bothering her. “About what happened yesterday…it was wrong of me to try to interfere. Nor did I intend to question your decision.” It had been wrong of her. She was chastened to realize that despite the harsh punishment, there were no grumblings among the MacLeods. His decisions were respected.

  Rory nodded, accepting her apology. “Why did you?”

  “I didn’t want anything to mar the celebration. And when I saw my brother, I guessed what had happened. I know my brothers. They mean no harm, but I realized that your men do not know them as I do. Ian was very sorry for the trouble he caused.”

  “He told me so himself.” Rory must have seen her look of surprise. “He apologized for disrupting the celebration and admitted he did not know the lass was wed. He is young yet, but I admire his integrity.”

  Isabel smiled, pleased that the MacLeod acknowledged how difficult it must have been for Ian to apologize after the matter had already been decided in his favor.

  “You are fond of your brothers?” he asked.

  Isabel nodded. “Very much so.”

  He stared at her intently. “And they of you?”

  She hesitated. “Of course.”

  Rory must have heard the uncertainty in her voice. “I am sure it was difficult for them to leave you as well. But it is for the best. With your family gone, your adjustment at Dunvegan will be easier. Unless you are having second thoughts?”

  “No, of course not,” she said too quickly.

  He lifted a brow that suggested he did not believe her. “I noticed your intense conversation with your uncle. I thought perhaps you might be reconsidering.”

  Isabel felt her pulse quicken.

  He stared at her hard, waiting for her to explain, which of course she could not. “If you were watching, then you must know I was simply bidding my uncle farewell.”

  “It seemed rather more than a simple farewell. He appeared to be giving you some sort of instructions.”

  Isabel sucked in her breath, her pulse now racing frantically. How could he have possibly guessed? Rory MacLeod was much too observant.

  Think, Isabel.

  Well, she thought, men loved obedient women, didn’t they?

  She smiled demurely, fluttering her long lashes at him. “Very well, you are right, Rory.”

  His brows lifted in surprise.

  She forced what she hoped was a becoming blush. “My uncle was giving me instructions.” She paused. “Instructions on how to be a proper and obedient wife. Instructions on how to please you.”

  He seemed to tense, as if her words had knocked the breath from him. His eyes met hers. This time, there was no mistaking the flash of heat. “I would like to hear those instructions.” His gaze