Page 2 of The Highlander Who Loved Me

“Alliances are more important now than ever,” his father confided. “Did ye happen to notice the chain around Sir James Douglas’s neck and the silver casket dangling at the end of it?”

“Aye.”

“’Tis the king’s embalmed heart that’s locked inside.”

James winced. “I heard one of the other knights speak of it, but I thought it only a rumor.”

“Nay,’tis the truth. The loyalty of the Douglas clan to the boy king and the monarchy willnae be questioned by such a show of devotion.”

James glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was near, then lowered his voice. “Is that devotion genuine?”

“I think the Douglas clan will happily support the king fer as long as it benefits them,” the McKenna replied bluntly.

“What of the Armstrongs? Are they not loyal to the crown?”

“Laird Armstrong is cautious. ’Tis understandable, yet we cannae allow any breech in the clan alliance. At the first hint of weakness, the English will pounce and our hard-fought independence will be at great risk.” The McKenna cleared his throat and sniffed. “I want Laird Armstrong to know I value him as an ally and will offer my support to him if he ever has need of it. Sending ye home with him is a clear sign of my good faith.”

James forced his face into calm, so as not to betray his excitement at being charged with such an important task. “If ye believe my presence will help, I’ll gladly do as ye ask.”

The McKenna nodded approvingly, then rewarded his son with a genuine smile.

James felt his chest swell. As always, even the smallest crumb of approval from his proud, distant father produced this sort of reaction. But it wasn’t just pride in himself he felt; ’twas also a newfound respect for the man who had raised him.

The McKennas were a powerful, wealthy clan. James had always believed that was due to his father’s strong leadership and unmatched skill with a sword, but he now realized his father’s cunning and political acumen played an important part in the clan’s success—and survival.

“I guess this is farewell for a while, brother. Father said ye are to go with the Armstrongs.”

James looked over at his brother, Malcolm. He had been blessed with the best features of their parents—their father’s height and broad, muscular build and their mother’s expressive blue eyes and winsome smile. He carried himself with the confidence and swagger of a man comfortable in his own skin. James felt a twinge of envy, yet remained hopeful he, too, would one day feel the same.

“And ye will be riding with the Douglas clan,” James replied.

Malcolm grinned, then playfully punched James in the upper arm. “Dinnae make a pest of yerself, little brother.”

James grumbled under his breath, then threw a sly glance at Malcolm. “Ye’d best heed yer own advice. I’m not the one with a betrothed making cow eyes at me all the time.”

Malcolm’s eyes strayed to the area where the Douglas clan was gathered. A burst of female giggles could be heard clear across the yard. “She’s a comely lass, my Margaret.”

“And a bold one, too. I’d wager that she’d not protest too much if ye’ve a mind to anticipate yer wedding night.” James jostled his brother’s shoulder teasingly, but Malcolm did not smile.

“Hmm, I fear ye may be right. I believe I have more care fer Margaret’s honor than she does.”

James’s brow shot up. His sexual experience was limited to a few willing McKenna widows and while he found the dalliances satisfactory, he always wanted more. The idea of turning away a lovely, willing lass seemed to be the height of foolishness.

“Do ye not find her attractive?” James asked.

“She’s pretty enough, but much too eager to please.”

James scratched his head. What could possibly be wrong with that? “I should think ye’d want an amenable lass as yer wife.”

“Och, the innocent words of an untried youth.” Malcolm clapped his brother on the back. “The thrill of the chase makes the capture of the prize all the more enticing.”

“Ye want Margaret to resist ye?”

Malcolm smiled ruefully. “I’ll follow Father’s lead and out of respect willnae take any other women to my bed once I’m married. But I fear life can become rather dull and boring with such a docile, obedient wife.”

“Yer brain is addled, Malcolm.”

“And ye, little brother, are thinking with yer cock.” Malcolm leaned over, his expression serious. “There’s more to a woman than the pleasure she can bring ye in bed. Ye’ll do well to remember that when ye choose a bride of yer own.”

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