The Highlander's Defiant Captive (The Lairds Most Likely 4)

Sheena headed out of the hall with an insolent swish of her hips that convinced nobody. Mhairi found it in her to feel sorry for her – such humble duties would make such a proud creature cringe. But she was also relieved. After such a public chastisement, it was possible that Sheena would renege on her promise to aid in her escape, but at le

ast the girl remained within reach.

When Sheena had gone, Mackinnon gestured to Jean, who rushed forward wringing her hands. "Mackinnon, I'm awfu’ sorry. I had no idea the lassies were venting their spite on the lady."

"I believe ye." His voice lost its edge. "Keep a closer watch, nonetheless." He gestured to a girl standing nearby and holding a pile of plates. "Fetch Duff, Isabel. He can take Brigid back to her father."

"Verra well, Mackinnon." The maid darted out of the hall, still carrying the plates. It seemed nobody wanted to try the Mackinnon's patience any further by causing him a second’s delay.

"Mackinnon, I'm sorry. I willnae do it again," Brigid said in a voice choked with tears. "Sheena was always talking about how wrong it was that a Mackinnon should have to bow down to a Drummond. Please give me another chance."

His expression hardened again. "I've made my judgement, Brigid. Go and gather your belongings. Ye leave with Duff within the hour."

"Aye, Mackinnon," the girl muttered.

"And before ye go, apologize to my lady."

The girl gave Mhairi a shaky curtsy and sent her a pleading glance, as if she expected another intervention. But Mhairi remained silent. Sheena might have instigated the campaign against her, but Brigid had sharp little fingers and she’d been more than happy to pinch her and pull her hair.

"I'm verra sorry, Mistress Drummond," she said as if she meant it, but Mhairi thought she was sorrier that she'd been punished than that she'd done the damage in the first place.

"Thank ye, Brigid," she said and watched as Duff came in and led her away.

After Flossie's praise for the man, she studied him more closely. He was tall and lean, and the eyepatch added a dashing touch to his dark handsomeness. Even better, he was gentle with the distraught girl who had started to cry once more. Perhaps Flossie’s choice wasn’t so misguided after all.

When both girls had left the hall, the crowd didn't immediately move to resume their duties. All eyes remained fixed on the Mackinnon.

Mhairi cast a quick glance at him. He still looked stern and autocratic, the ruler of the glen. A shiver ran through her. Not fear, although at this moment, he was all power and command.

No, to her shame, this imperious man thrilled her to her toes.

As if he sensed her attention, he turned his head and caught her staring. She had no chance to raise her usual barriers of hostility and resentment. Instead she gazed into those deep brown eyes and saw not a monster, but a man of courage and principle and conviction. Another shiver rippled through her and shook free her hatred, leaving only roiling confusion in its place.

A reassuring smile curved his lips, then he faced his people once more. Dazed, bewildered, Mhairi realized she still held his arm. Before she could release him, he reached to catch her hand.

She told herself to break free. Yesterday, an hour ago even, she'd have rejected his touch. But since then something had changed, something she couldn’t define. Her trembling hand remained in his.

He began to speak, his deep baritone not loud, but clear enough to reach every corner of the cavernous room. "I ken many of ye believe my plan for peace is ill judged and that bringing a Drummond wife into Achnasheen is wrong."

Mhairi noticed a few people shuffling their feet and avoiding the Mackinnon's eyes. That was no surprise. She’d known since she arrived that Sheena and Brigid weren’t alone in resenting her presence.

"But Mhairi Drummond is the woman I've chosen as my wife, and I'll see she has the loyalty of everyone in her new home. If ye cannae stomach serving a Drummond lady, leave now. I will no’ have my bride living in a house where she doesnae command the obedience and respect of all. Make your decision, because if ye dinnae and you prove false, my vengeance will pursue ye to the ends of the earth. Ye have my word on that as chieftain of the Achnasheen Mackinnons. And I’m known throughout the Highlands as a man who stands by his word."

The Mackinnon waited for a bristling moment, but nobody moved. He went on in a voice that rang with authority. "Mark this and mark this well, Mhairi Drummond is your lady and the wife of my heart. If ye do her injury, ye do me injury. If ye slight her, ye slight me. If ye betray her, ye betray me. Do ye understand?"

After a silence, Jean curtsied to her. "My lady."

There was another pause before the other women hesitantly came forward and curtsied as well. Nobody betrayed any reluctance, but after what the Mackinnon had just said, they would hardly dare.

Mhairi remained silent and shaken, although she nodded to acknowledge each act of homage.

Speech was beyond her. The Mackinnon's proclamation of allegiance left her reeling with a mixture of alarm and gratitude and forbidden pleasure. He'd pledged himself to her in the most overt way he could. His words moved her, proved that even while she havered, he already dedicated himself to her. More, he was willing to put himself to the test for her sake.

For her sake. Not for the sake of his plan for ending the feud.

What did all this mean? Only last night, he'd claimed her as the woman he meant to marry and she'd upended a glass of wine over him.

Mhairi didn't feel like defying him right now. Instead her heart brimmed with overwhelming emotion that left her wondering if her lifelong enemy any longer deserved to be called by that name.