Page 26 of The Heart of a Highlander
Nine
If Ada had held any doubt that William would advance in the tournament, by midafternoon she harbored it no more. He fought with a skill she’d never seen before. It seemed almost otherworldly the way he parried blows and struck down man after man like a warrior on a mission who refused to let himself tire as a mere mortal would. She watched each of his fights on the edge of her seat upon the dais outside, thrilling a little every time he won.
As she sat, and while she broke her fast, and even when Brothwell or Marjorie spoke to her, Ada could hardly draw her thoughts from William to the conversation at hand. She thought upon their conversation in the great hall last night over and over, his good deed for Maximilian, the way Hella liked him—the hound had greeted him this morning by bounding up to him and sitting beside him until he petted her—the way he made her feel he wanted her more for her than the gift from the fae that she possessed, and his odd word choices last night.
It was the last two she kept returning to. She could not shake the feeling that William did not really support the Steward or her brother, and if he did not, then surely he supported the king. After all, she knew he’d worked with the king’s right hand over the last year to crush traitors. Brothwell obviously believed William had turned traitor as his father had. She was still unsure about William’s brother Bram. She’d told Esther as much one night. The man had done much that indicated he was indeed a traitor to the king, but she’d never quite believed it. Like William, Bram had shown a very compassionate side to others in need, and she’d seen him show disappointment and hide it—more than once—when the Steward had a victory over the king’s forces. The man had disappeared suddenly, and Ada did wonder if he was on a mission for Brothwell or if Brothwell had discovered Bram was actually sent by the king to spy on him. And if Bram was a spy, then…
She glanced sharply toward William where he now stood beside Connor in the middle of the arena that had been created for the tournament. Sun glistened down on both their heads. Connor’s golden locks and William’s dark ones contrasted as much as the rest of their physical appearance. Whereas Connor was light skinned, William was bronzed by the sun she felt sure he constantly trained in. William was a head taller than Connor, but that did not make Connor a short man. William was just uncommonly tall, and broad shouldered, and muscled everywhere.
He wore only braies, which hung low on his hips, leaving his abdomen, legs, chest—nearly all of him—exposed. She swallowed hard, heat sweeping through her. As far as she could tell, William did not possess a smidge of spare fat, but he did have an abundance of sinewy muscle. His arms were lethal weapons the way they bulged, and his legs appeared to have been crafted to carry him an endless distance.
Both William and Connor had won all their matches, so they would be the two allowed to woo her tonight. She took a deep breath. That left her less than a day before her fate was irrevocably sealed.
She studied William as he stood there, eyes alert, hands gripping the hilt of his sword, posture tense. He was not at ease among these people he claimed to want to join forces with. She was as certain of it as she was her own name. Would he admit the truth if she asked? She did not think he would. Not yet anyway. Perhaps he was uncertain he could trust her. If she told him that she supported King David, would that make him open up to her? Was it foolish to admit such a thing based on a feeling deep in her gut?
There was one last consideration. The heat of a blush covered her cheeks and neck just thinking about it. Ever since she’d failed to escape Brothwell and he’d imprisoned Esther and Maximilian, she had resigned herself to the fact that she’d have to wed one of Brothwell’s men and have a marriage without passion or love. But now… Her attention was drawn again to William’s powerful form, and promise and desire flared hot. If the attraction he felt for her was true, as well, then what if—Her breath caught in her throat, the fear of even considering something she had long hoped for choking her. What if passion could lead to love?
She bit hard on her lip, suddenly feeling as if she was being watched, her thoughts being read. She glanced to her left, where Brothwell was paying her no heed, but when she turned to her right, Marjorie’s probing gaze was on Ada. Marjorie arched her red eyebrows, and a knowing smile turned up the corners of her mouth.
She leaned close to Ada. “I see ye,” she whispered. “Ye have a look about ye when ye stare at William. I ken that look. It’s hope.” She paused, as if considering her words. “Be careful, Ada. I too have hoped, and I can tell ye now, to find hope and then to lose it is worse than nae ever having hope at all.”
Marjorie looked and sounded so genuinely sad that Ada felt the walls she normally had up around her stepsister lower. She suspected Marjorie was referring to Bram. Ada had watched them laugh together, exchange looks of desire. She had even seen them locked in each other’s arms one night in the gardens when they thought no one was around. She’d kept their secret. Why would she not?
“Ye speak of Bram?” Ada asked quietly.
Marjorie’s eyes cut past Ada to where Brothwell sat on the other side of her. Ada heard him speaking, and Marjorie lowered her lashes as if to hide the fact that she was looking at him. For some reason, she didn’t want her brother to see.
“Ada.” Brothwell suddenly rapped his knuckles on the table beside her. When she turned to him, he was standing and staring down at her. “I’m going to speak with the MacLean and the MacKinney to decide who may spend time with ye first, and then I’ll come to fetch ye. Dunnae move.”
“Nae even to blink?” Ada said, unable to stop the snarky remark.
Brothwell’s gaze narrowed upon her. “Ye test me, Ada, ye do. Ye dunnae want to do that.” He motioned to Marjorie. “Take a lesson from Marjorie and be a good, biddable sister.”
Aware that her actions could have repercussions for Esther and Maximilian, Ada forced herself to nod.
“That’s a good lass,” Brothwell said, before descending the dais.
The moment he was out of earshot, Marjorie said, “Ye should nae prod him.” Ada turned quickly to Marjorie as she continued. “’Tis like poking a wild boar. His teeth are sharp and his hits painful.”
It struck Ada that she had done a grave injustice to Marjorie. She had not looked past the woman’s jealousy and cruelty to understand why Marjorie acted the way she did. Ada finally realized that part of it was fear of Brothwell. The other part might well have been jealousy that Marjorie did not have someone who loved her as much as Ada’s father had loved her. The thought of him brought a wave of fresh grief over Ada. She sucked in a pained breath.
Marjorie did not seem to notice. Her eyes had taken on a faraway look. “I did nae ever think to find love,” she said, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’ve kenned my entire life that I’d be wed to a man Brothwell deemed useful, just as ye will be.” Marjorie eyed her. “But then Bram appeared here. Brothwell liked him, and I hoped, perhaps, Brothwell would let me wed him.” A tear slid down Marjorie’s cheek, and she quickly wiped it away and shrugged. “The point is, Ada, hope is a dangerous thing. Relinquish it. William MacLean could disappear tomorrow, just as his brother did, if he displeases my brother. And if ye allow yer heart to become engaged, ye will be just as alone as I am, for ye dunnae have yer father to give ye solace or protection any longer.”
Marjorie had never opened up to Ada, let alone revealed a soft side to her. Why now? Was it the appearance of William? Ada thought perhaps it was. “Do ye ken where Bram is?”
Marjorie shook her head. “Brothwell will nae tell me.”
Ada wanted to ask if Marjorie thought Bram truly supported the Steward, but if she questioned Bram’s loyalty, Marjorie might question William’s. Ada did not want to cause undue problems for William.
“Mayhap since Bram’s brother is here and proving himself to Brothwell, he’ll trust Bram once more.” Marjorie grasped Ada’s hand. “Will ye choose Bram’s brother to wed?”
Ada could not see the harm in saying yes. She did not have to explain herself. “Aye.”
Marjorie smiled. “I thought so. There is something special about them. I hope…I hope he is nae taken from ye and that yer marriage brings Bram back to me.”
If William was for King David as Ada was beginning to suspect and hope, her marriage to him would not bring Bram back to Marjorie, even if Bram truly was a traitor. Brothwell would never trust Bram again if his brother was the king’s man.
Ada swallowed. “If ye had to choose between Bram and Brothwell, would it be a difficult choice, Marjorie?”
