Unbreakable (Highlands Forever Book 1) Read online

  “How could she? I dinna know anything about the law until Petro told me.”

  “Not direct knowledge, ye dolt.”

  “Would it change anything?”

  “If I were in yer position, aye. The lass did what her sire commanded, what yer father made her do. She’s innocent. A political pawn in a long history of alliances made through arranged marriage.”

  Alex rejected his explanation. “I recognize my father’s role, Jamie. But her guilt is of a different nature. We were promised to each other. And instead of trusting me, she sent me away. Do ye know how many years I’ve suffered wondering about what happened? Why the lass rejected me?”

  “So ye finally admit that ye love her.”

  “Loved,” Alex emphasized.

  “That’s shite,” Jamie challenged him, again.

  Alex growled with disapproval. “Watch yer tone, cousin.”

  Alex secretly envied a man like his cousin. Jamie’s father was Alex’s uncle. Aye, he was the next in line for the lairdship, but he’d grown up without the pressure of being a laird’s son. “My relationship isna yer concern. Keeping Keely safe is.”

  “Just yesterday ye demanded I marry the lass. I pity the girl. For she doesna know what man will be waiting for her in the great hall. I am sure once she finds out, yer marriage bed willna be as pleasurable as ye think. Ye’re a fool to take advantage of her.”

  “Take her away,” Alex dismissed him.

  Jamie did as he was told, leaving Alex alone.

  Curse it all. Alex dinna like feeling trapped. But he was. And no matter how appealing that trap was, he still wished to be on his ship. Happiness would be reserved for their bedchamber, found only in their mutual pleasure.

  His father and mother had shared a loving relationship, but after birthing two children, his da sought comfort elsewhere. Alex would have none of it. He’d ride his beautiful wife every night until she admitted she still loved him.

  And once she was with child, he’d return to Constantinople. Fate had him by the bollocks, but he’d fight back. He tucked the treasured missives in his tunic and walked back to the keep.

  Once seated at the high table with the council, Alex eyed Petro with curiosity. What had the scholar revealed to his captains?

  “Thank ye for coming, Alex,” Mathe said. “We are encouraged by what Petro has told us.”

  “And what is that?” Alex asked.

  “Ye’re already wed to Keely Oliphant. No man can undo what the Almighty has sanctioned.”

  Alex chuckled. “What if I disagree?”

  Mathe shot him a look of disgust and crossed himself. “Do ye accept the laird’s chair? Will ye lead Clan MacKay with honor? Provide protection, administer justice, and walk in faith with God? Give us an heir?”

  Alex looked from one captain to another. All good men, all trusted advisers to his father. Jamie was the most inexperienced. Something his father had insisted on years ago, keeping a younger man on the council. Everyone must be heard, his father had said.

  “I accept. And tonight, a wedding will take place. Spare no expense or effort. I doona wish my lovely bride to mistake her wedding for a simple celebration. She must know what is expected of her. Clan MacKay has a new laird and lady.”

  The council and Petro applauded.

  Fools. If they only knew what Alex had given up, how many of his dreams had been stripped away in the few days he’d been home. As he stood, the members surrounded him, offering congratulations. Alex graciously received their well wishes. He needed all the blessings he could get.

  Petro embraced him, slapping his back. “A wise decision. And as all of these fine men have done, I, too, pledge my life to you, Alexander.”

  “Good,” Alex said. “Take five men and ride to the beach. Bring my warriors home. I wish them to stay in the Highlands.”

  “Even Nasim, Kuresh, and Cyrus?”

  “Especially them.”

  “Alex…” Petro started. “Few from this part of the world have set eyes on men from Constantinople. I am from Italy and stand out.”

  “I doona care. They are essential to my success.”

  “They are slaves.”

  “Nay,” Alex said. “They are freemen as of today. I will reward their loyalty with lands and wives.”

  Petro approved of his choice and bowed. “As ye wish, Laird Alex.”

  *

  Hours after her conversation at the loch with Alex, Keely flatly refused to eat a bite or to allow Leah to help her into the beautiful gown meant for her wedding. “I’d rather starve to death and have birds peck away at my innards than marry a man I doona know.”

  The maid sighed. “If I could help ye escape, I would, Lady Keely. But Laird Alex has doubled the guard at yer door and around the keep. I believe he intends to make sure ye fulfill yer duty this time.”

  “This time…” she mocked, not meaning to slight Leah. “I am sorry. Tis nothing against ye.”

  “I understand.”

  “I am tired of men deciding where I can go and what I must do.” She sat on the edge of the bed, gazing across the chamber to the hearth. “Men are more destructive than fire, the source of all the misery in the world.”

  “Do ye really think so?” Leah crawled behind her with a comb, sat down, and began to smooth the tangles out of her curls. The lass had gentle hands.

  “Is there any other creature on God’s earth that can so easily crush ye?”

  “I-I doona know, milady. I’ve never considered such things.”

  “Think of the oppressed and suffering.”

  “Is that what ye consider yerself?”

  A fair question. Keely scooted out of reach, hugging her center, contemplating an honest answer. When had life in the Highlands been easy for anyone? At least she was the daughter of a prosperous laird and clan. She’d never gone a day without food or shelter. There were always clean, warm clothes and shoes for her to choose from. Servants did her bidding. Guards protected her. Nay, she’d misspoken out of anger.

  “Forgive me, Leah. I am fortunate. War is the fault of men. And the innocents who get killed or displaced as a result of their violence are the true victims of oppression and suffering.”

  Leah nodded. “Aye. Laird John always welcomed those without a home—cared for the sick and helpless—fed and clothed orphans—and never mistreated his servants. Some men are kind and gentle. I hope Laird Alex will be the same.”

  Keely swallowed the less-than-favorable opinion she had of Alexander MacKay. Why destroy the lass’ hope? In all fairness, Keely couldna say what kind of laird Alex would be; she could only judge him based on the way he’d treated her. But there were reasons for his actions. Good reasons. Things she must accept responsibility for. And John, too. They’d both failed Alex in the worst way imaginable. Did it come as any surprise that he despised her? Tears burned her eyes.

  “Lady Keely?” Leah squeezed her shoulder. “I willna let anyone harm ye.”

  Keely sniffled. “Thank, ye. Ye’re the only friend I have here.”

  “In time,” the maid offered, “the other women will acknowledge how good ye truly are.”

  “Let us talk of something else. No one has told me what man I am expected to marry.”

  Leah’s demeanor changed immediately.

  “Leah? Do ye know something?”

  The maid shook her head.

  “Please.”

  “I am sworn to secrecy, milady,” she said.

  It wouldna be fair to press the girl. “What can ye tell me?”

  “The great hall has been transformed into a lovely sight,” Leah said. “Wreaths of heather, candles, and bouquets of flowers for every lass. Laird Alex called for the silver to be cleaned and used for the feast table. The kitchens are bustling with twice the number of servants—Cook feels like a king, I think. He’s never felt so important. There’s boar and venison, even a lamb for the high table. The sweetest wine and best ale have been brought up from the cellar. All of the captains and their famili
es have been invited, and there will be meat for all of the tenants and servants. Such generosity has not been seen here in a long time, Lady Keely.”

  Leah had described a joyous occasion, not a forced marriage between two strangers. Not her wedding feast. It couldna be. Why would Alex go to such lengths to please her? Then she remembered—Jamie was the likely groom. All of the fuss was over him. He deserved a memorable wedding. It dinna matter who the bride was.

  The idea of spending her life with Jamie dinna disappoint her as much as it should. He was young and strong, well-thought of, handsome, a member of the council, and Alex’s closest kinsman. The association with Alex did bother her. Every day for the rest of her life she’d have to see Alex—eat at his table, speak with him, listen to Jamie’s stories about him, eventually meet the woman he’d fall in love with and marry, and children would follow … many, she guessed. Alex’s virility and passion had scarred Keely for life.

  Any man she loved after would fall short of her expectations. If she could even love again. She wandered across the room to the hearth. She studied the beautiful tapestry crafted by Alex’s mother. It captured the beauty and savagery of the MacKay holdings in every masterful stitch, down to the tartan-clad warriors guarding the north face of the keep. Keely closed her eyes and tried to imagine where she fit in, if her future could be intertwined with the scene depicted in the tapestry.

  Could she be happy here? Accept being married to the laird’s heir until Alex produced his own son? Would she finally love again? Accept a second chance at life and grace? Because until now, she had been living in the shadows, hidden away at Dunrobin Castle, a secret even her sire hadn’t known. Aye, he knew she was safe, but her location had been withheld. In the five years she’d been away, only three missives had been sent to her father. There’d never been a reply, only a verbal acknowledgement that he understood she was alive.

  In this moment, Alex was offering her an olive branch, the right to walk free again, to be a wife, perhaps a mother, and to live as a MacKay. She looked back at Leah who sat patiently on the bed still.

  “Is Jamie my intended?”

  “Lady Keely, please doona force me to answer any questions about who the laird has chosen for ye.”

  Even if she could stomach the notion of marrying again—she struggled with what followed … the marriage bed. Heat spiraled up her body. Something so sacred should be shared with a man she loved. A man she chose, not someone Alex, her father, or anyone else designated.

  “The gown.” She attempted to focus on something else. “Show it to me, please.”

  A slow smile warmed Leah’s face as she got up and retrieved the delicate dress from the back of a chair. The maid held it up. “The color suits ye.”

  Aye, light green wool with silver threading and silver beads. There were matching slippers on the floor. “Where is the bag I travelled with?”

  “I put yer garments away already.”

  “I had jewels.”

  “Aye. In the chest over there.” The maid pointed to the far wall where two trunks were situated.

  The bag she’d managed to escape with had everything in the world she cared about, including an emerald and gold necklace and ring from her ma. If there was ever an occasion to wear the heirlooms, now would be an appropriate time. “Please bring the jewelry basket to me.”

  “But, milady, there is no need. Laird Alex has supplied a wedding gift for ye.” Leah put the dress down and hurried to the table. She opened a box. “I have never seen anything so beautiful before.”

  Keely peered over her shoulder. Six breathtaking pieces awaited her approval, a necklace, ring, bracelet, brooch, and two hair combs. Each contained a brilliant ruby surrounded by gold and silver knotwork, set on gold. “This is a mistake, I am sure.” Keely eyed the maid. “Return the gifts to Alex. Tell him I canna accept such expensive things.”

  “Nay,” the maid insisted. “I wouldna dare. These are exquisite, Lady Keely, brought here from Constantinople.”

  Keely snorted. Why would Alex be travelling with women’s jewelry? And where had he gotten the gown? Surely these were gifts meant for his favorite concubine. Jealousy burned inside of her, but she dismissed it. What Alex did and who he did it with, dinna matter. Her future husband waited belowstairs. A fateful decision must be made, either accept her place as a MacKay or fight for her freedom.

  She trekked to the narrow window and looked about. Dusk was settling in. The hills surrounding the keep were in bloom. Twas the season of possibilities. Nature always renewed itself in the summer, so why shouldna Keely do the same? She hadna slept well in days, and that exhaustion had settled bone-deep. The desire to fight against Alex was fading. And if she left there, there were a limited number of places she could go.

  The Sutherlands were out of the question. What about Clan Gunn? Or the Sinclairs? Perhaps the MacLeods? She adored Elizabeth MacLeod, the laird’s youngest daughter. Nay—her presence would stir up trouble after she overstayed her welcome. The more she thought about it, even returning to her sire’s house seemed impossible.

  The convent. Only for a brief moment did she consider herself worthy of becoming a nun.

  A knock on the chamber door startled Keely.

  Leah hurried to open it.

  “Tis time,” a man said.

  “Lady Keely isna ready.”

  “But Laird Alex…”

  “Can wait a little longer,” the maid finished for him and closed the door. She walked back to the table. “Lady Keely, what will ye have me do?”

  There was another choice, one that required utter humility. She could request a meeting with Alex and beg for mercy—confess her deepest feelings for him. If he knew how she felt, surely, he wouldna marry her off to another man. He must care about her, he even told her he couldna imagine her with another man. But what kind of future could they share if it was built on regrets, anger, and lies?

  She suddenly felt hot and her hands started to shake. Taking a last look about the bedchamber, she knew there was no alternative but to marry. “Make me a beautiful bride.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Low on patience, Alex kept close watch of the entrance to the great hall. He finished off another cup of ale and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Keely should have been there by now. Aye, women were afforded extra time, especially on their wedding night, but he suspected she was doing this on purpose to prove a point.

  A hundred guests waited with him, mainly his captains and their families, his cousins, Petro, and the soldiers from his ship. The general mood reflected excitement and curiosity about the bride, for everyone knew Keely had no idea who waited to marry her. A necessary tactic to keep her from trying to escape. The lass loathed him and would never consent to wed him.

  He’d celebrate their nuptials, drink and dance with her, and when it came time to go abovestairs, he’d do so with eagerness. She’d belonged to him from the day she pledged her heart and soul to him. And by divine right, according to Father Michael, Alex had been brought home from Constantinople to claim her.

  The lutes and harp filled the room with sweet sound, as did the laughter of his guests. But none of it could soothe the beast within him. The celebration couldna resurrect the joy he’d felt all those years ago when he was a lad in love. Keely had consumed him body and soul with one smile and words of devotion. Her raven hair and blue eyes bewitched him then, and if he wasn’t vigilant, could do so now. For the lady had the face of an angel but the heart of a witch.

  Just as he was about to take up another cup of ale, the guards assigned to her chamber door appeared at the entrance of the great hall. Behind them stood Father Michael and Leah. A head taller than most men, Alex still strained to catch sight of his bride through the throng. When the guards finally stepped aside, a lass handed Leah a bouquet of flowers, and Father Michael took up his position at the front of the room.

  Alex couldna breathe after he spotted Keely in the gown he’d carefully chosen. The soft material clung to
her curves, the ruby necklace sparkled in the torchlight at her throat, and the red stones in the combs she wore in her unbound, waist-length hair captivated him. Everything about her made him wild and dangerous. But nothing pleased him more than the idea that she was about to be bound to him by the holiest of oaths in front of enough witnesses that she could never challenge the validity of their marriage. The little bird had been caught and her wings clipped.

  Father Michael silenced the musicians, and Alex strutted across the room, full of pride and confidence. He stopped in front of the priest. The crowd parted to let Leah and Keely closer.

  “Harlot!” someone screamed.

  “Stop this unholy alliance,” another called.

  “Ye canna marry yer brother’s wife!”

  Madness unraveled inside Alex, and he drew his sword. He’d silence their contemptuous tongues forever. Angus’s death hadn’t served as a strong enough deterrent. There was plenty of room on the outer wall for more pikes and heads.

  The agitators had gained access to the great hall through the main doors. And as Alex got closer, he recognized several of the men—Angus’s supporters.

  Mathe and Jamie were at his side, clearing a path through the crowd.

  “We demand justice!” the obvious leader said. “Come back to Christ, Laird Alex, pick a chaste wife from among our daughters.”

  “Shut yer bloody mouth, Levi,” Alex spat as he bludgeoned the man with the hilt of his sword.

  Levi stumbled backward, his brow bleeding profusely. “I am unarmed, but unafraid to die for what is right.”

  Alex handed his weapon to Jamie. “And now I am unarmed.”

  Blood blurred Levy’s vision, but he dinna relent. “That woman…” he pointed at Keely who had made her way to the doors. “Is an abomination. A witch. She is responsible for Laird John’s death.”

  Alex growled like an animal and lunged. He knocked Levi off his feet and they rolled, Alex landing on top of him. Straddling his chest, he’d give the naysayer one chance to take back his words.