Highlander Taken. Juliette Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ the highest-ranking noble families in the Highlands?” my father hissed.

      Aleck contemplated my despair with his dark, suggestive eyes. He was entirely untroubled by the fact that he was smeared with sweat and dirt, or that his wounds, although not life-threatening, still ran with fresh blood. He stood by the door with his arms folded across his massive chest, as though to ensure that I didn’t attempt a sudden getaway. To be sure, he was an effective deterrent; his filthy, bloodied bulk would ensure that I kept as much distance between us as I possibly could have.

      “Your feelings for him, I’m afraid,” my father continued, “are entirely inconsequential. Laird Mackenzie is as dedicated to this alliance as I am. Wilkie Mackenzie, however, has all but refused to marry your sister. He favors another. A fair-haired foreigner, apparently. I know not where she hails from, nor do I care. It matters not. What does matter is that a wedding will take place, and soon. It has been decided, therefore, that you will wed the third brother.”

      My father’s suggestion was unthinkable. My worst fears were being realized. If I could remind him of Kade Mackenzie’s famously wild, unpredictable character, surely my father would reconsider. “His reputation—”

      “Is that of an accomplished, extremely well-armed soldier, which Aleck here can only attest to,” my father said with some disapproval; he was less than pleased by Aleck’s earlier performance in the training grounds. “He is also brother to a highly successful laird and warrior. You are fortunate that Kade Mackenzie has offered to step up and fulfill his duty where Wilkie has failed.”

      “But he’s as brutal and stormy as he could possibly be!” My voice sounded high with desperation and I made an effort to calm it unsuccessfully. “You witnessed his reckless behavior in the sparring ring. I cannot marry a man like that.”

      “What I witnessed was a man so skilled in the art of warfare that he bested one of my strongest men and walked away without so much as a scratch. His brother believes he might learn how to teach his skills wielding weapons and also designing them, and in that regard he would be a valuable military leader.”

      “Please, Father. There is more to this than military considerations, surely. ’Tis my life we’re discussing! He’s quick-tempered. Dangerous, even. I—I don’t want to be his wife.” More specifically: I didn’t want to share his bed. To be forever bound to his tempestuous energy, no matter how curious I might have been about the undeniably enticing effect that energy infused me with the few times I had made his brief acquaintance. Any allure he might have possessed was ominously overshadowed by the more immediate and fearsome image of his untamed power in the sparring ring. I knew only too well the kind of damage such manly strength could inflict.

      A desperate thought occurred to me, possibly my very last lifeline. I would never have mentioned such a thing unless I thought my sister willing, and I knew her well enough to know that she very likely was. “Why don’t you allow Maisie to be the one to marry him? She may very well want to wed Kade if Wilkie has refused her. I know she would. She’s desperate—”

      “I made allowances for Maisie’s request to marry Wilkie only because I thought it was a certainty...for reasons I won’t expound upon now. Your elder sister is retreating to a nunnery. She has no further interest in marriage. Therefore, you, as second oldest, must be the one to secure the new laird-in-waiting. Complications are wont to arise when the protocol of birth order and marriages is not followed. Besides, Maisie’s desperation has undermined her allure. He wants you.”

      My father paused to take another swig from his flask. In the ensuing silence the words hung in the tense space between us. He wants you. What could Kade Mackenzie possibly have wanted of me? And why? To be sure, the very thought was enough to inflame all my reservations. “But—”

      My father would hear none of it and interrupted me curtly. “The decision is made. The marriage will take place in two weeks, so I suggest you come to terms with your fate and prepare yourself accordingly.”

      It was foolish of me, aye, but I had to try. “Father—”

      My father lashed out at me, hitting the side of my face with the back of his hand, causing me to stumble backward. I caught myself and held my own hand to my cheekbone, which throbbed with the heat of the impact and my own humiliation. I had known to expect this; my father’s temper was nothing new. I should not have continued to defy him, yet I never seemed to learn. I did not have freedom of choice, yet I craved that one particular luxury, always, and enough to question his caustic authority.

      But his wrath now seemed to almost undo him. He was feeling the effects of his age and his illness. In the past, his hits had been much more forceful. His strength was failing him. He coughed violently and uncontrollably for a few moments, spitting the blood that rose from his lungs onto the stone floor, where it made a gruesome blotch.

      I knew my father was ill. But I had not known the extent of it. And, God help me, in that moment I was almost glad of it. I was glad that he could not hurt me as much as he once would have done. I could understand, too, why he was so fervent about securing a laird-in-waiting, to take his place when he could no longer lead. And the smallest glimmer of hope clung to the periphery of this realization. If I did marry Kade Mackenzie, and if my father became too ill to lead, Kade would step up to the position. Which meant that my husband would outrank my father.

      And so would I.

      “You will do your duty, Stella, and that is the end of it! Now go. Get out of my sight. I will call for you later.” To his first officer, he said, “Aleck, take whatever measures are necessary to ensure my daughter’s obedience in this matter, lest she dream up another futile attempt to flee or some other equally daft scheme.”

      “I am at your service, Laird Morrison,” came Aleck’s reply.

      With a sick feeling in my stomach, I followed Aleck from my father’s chambers out into the wide hallway. The door closed, and Aleck fell into step beside me; at his normal pace his stride might have been twice that of my own. As we walked, he surprised me by looping his burly arm around my waist. I attempted to remove myself from his grasp, but he was not to be dissuaded.

      “You heard your father’s orders as clearly as I did, Stella. I must take whatever measures necessary to ensure your obedience. Has your father mentioned to you that I asked for your hand before your marriage to Mackenzie was arranged? But you know that already, do you not? If you do refuse Mackenzie, I have every reason to believe the laird will favor my request. I am, after all, one of his most trusted officers.”

      I couldn’t help blanching at his words. I knew this to be untrue; it was unlikely my father would wed me to a man of Aleck’s bloodline. But I looked up at him, aghast. The thought of marrying Aleck was even more off-putting than that of marrying Kade Mackenzie. I could remember even now the hurt I inflicted when I had refused Aleck’s long-ago gift. His face had fallen and I later regretted the cruel childishness of my reply. Ever since, Aleck had gone out of his way, when our paths occasionally crossed, to ridicule me with threatening intention. Because of this, I thought him an ill-mannered lout who caused more than a ripple of unease every time he flicked me a glance. I knew well that his animosity toward me was laced with desire and revenge.

      And the disquieting thought could not be suppressed: if I attempted to mutiny from the Mackenzie marriage, a match to Aleck would likely be considered as an apt, severe punishment. At the age of fourteen, Aleck had been a shy, gangly boy. Now, he was a massive, seasoned warrior with thick black hair, irises so dark it was difficult to distinguish them from the inky hue of his pupils—a detail which only added to his somewhat sinister demeanor—and a face that could have, if I didn’t know the history of all the thoughts behind it, been called noticeable if not handsome. He was far too rough to СКАЧАТЬ