“’Twas fortunate I was there to offer assistance,” Alex said.

“We’re no pleased that ye stole horses from our men,” John, the Thane of Cawdor, said. “But we are impressed.”

“I only borrowed them,” Alex said.

“Someone murdered the Campbell fishermen ye met.” The chieftain’s black eyes burned bright with anger. “One of them lived long enough to tell us it wasn’t you.”

That was lucky.

“D’Arcy tells me ye had some difficulty with our new regent,” the chieftain said.

“Difficulty? Ach, the regent liked me so well he wanted to keep me as a permanent guest,” Alex said, and the two Campbells laughed.

“I like to discharge my debts,” the chieftain said. “I’ll make certain the MacDonalds of Sleat are not falsely accused of being traitorous rebels.”

“I appreciate that,” Alex said, and the chieftain nodded, accepting his due. Now for the difficult part. “As ye know, the Western Isles are swarming with rebels. By not joining them, my clan risks being attacked. For us to take the Crown’s side in this fight, we need a strong ally.”

The Campbell chieftain nodded and folded his hands. “That would be wise.”

“A marriage alliance is one means of binding our clans in friendship,” John said. “Once this matter with Shaggy Maclean is settled, our sister will be free to remarry.”

Sweat rolled down Alex’s back. He hoped they were not suggesting what he thought they were.

“I don’t have the authority to agree to a marriage on my chieftain’s behalf,” Alex said and hardly felt guilty for throwing Connor to the wolves.

“Catherine seems to favor you,” John said.

“Ach, I’m no more than a chieftain’s cousin.” Alex’s head was pounding. Now that the offer was being made, he was suddenly very certain he did not want to marry Catherine. “I’m sure ye will want someone more important.”

“After the marriage I arranged for her nearly ended in her death,” the chieftain said, “I’m inclined to let Catherine have her way this time.”

O shluagh! Alex silently pleaded for help from the fairies.

“Your sister is as fair a lass as ever graced the Highlands,” Alex said, “but I’ve already asked another to be my wife.” Though Glynis had refused him, he did ask.

“That pretty MacNeil lass?” John asked.

“Aye, and I’ve already bedded her,” Alex said. Under Highland custom, a promise to marry followed by a bedding made you as good as wed. Alex wasn’t telling them that the bedding had come before, and not after the promise. “I intend to negotiate the marriage contract with her father when we return.”

“I wish ye well,” John said, “but I suggest ye hide your wife’s dirk.”

Alex forced a laugh, though he did not find the remark amusing.

“I believe my chieftain would be honored to enter into an agreement of manrent, instead.” Alex was suggesting an agreement under which his clan would have the protection of the powerful Campbells in exchange for sending warriors when the Campbells called on them.

“Tell your chieftain I’m agreeable to it,” the Campbell said. “I understand he has his own troubles to deal with now, but I’ll expect him to come with his warriors when I need them.”

Alex could go home now, knowing he had accomplished the best he could for his clan. Of course, they could count on the Campbells only so long as their interests coincided. The Campbells looked out for the Campbells, first, last, and always. But for the time being, the Campbells would mind their backs vis-à-vis both the Crown and the other clans. That would free them to turn their attention to subduing the pirates on North Uist.

Glynis could ruin it all. If she did not become Alex’s wife in the very near future, the Campbell chieftain would take offense over Alex’s refusal of his sister. And the only way to fix that would be to marry Catherine.

Alex was in a grim mood when he knocked on Glynis’s bedchamber door.

“Where are they?” he demanded when he found only Bessie there.

“I don’t know where Mistress Glynis is, but I thought Sorcha was with you.”

“With me?”

“Aye, Lady Catherine said she would take Sorcha to ye,” Bessie said. “As the two of ye seemed uncommonly friendly, I didn’t think ye would want me to tell her nay…”

“If your mistress had agreed to marry me, then I wouldn’t need to be uncommonly friendly in pursuit of another wife!”

Alex turned on his heel and stormed off, though it was not like him to be so irritable. After searching all the common areas of the castle without finding Glynis, Sorcha, or Catherine, he went up to the walkway that ran along the top of on the castle’s wall to see if he could spot them from there.

He was pacing back and forth, annoying the guards, when he saw Glynis emerge from the path that skirted the loch. He saw at once that something was amiss. Her hair was loose, and she was swaying with the weight of something she was clutching against her chest. An instant later, he realized that the burden she carried was Sorcha.

Alex ran down the wall steps two at a time. He was across the yard and through the gate before Glynis reached the castle. When he saw that his daughter’s clothes were wet and her hair hung in wet clumps down her back, his stomach dropped to his feet.

“What happened?” He tried to lift her from Glynis’s arms, but Sorcha clung to her like a monkey.

“Sorcha had a bad fright in the water,” Glynis said, “but she is unharmed.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. How did Ian survive with two daughters? Alex supposed that with practice not every spill his daughter took would take a year off his life.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Glynis said, and she had the fiercest look in her eyes.

“Changed your mind about what?” he asked.

“If ye still want me, I’m ready to wed ye.”

CHAPTER 31

Truly, Glynis was the most surprising woman. Just when Alex thought she would never agree to wed him, she decided she would, with no persuasion. This was what he wanted. And yet, he did not feel much relieved.

Why would she change her mind so suddenly? Alex considered the question as he waited outside the bedchamber while Sorcha and Glynis changed out of their wet clothes. Perhaps Sorcha’s little mishap, whatever it was, made Glynis realize how attached she was to the child.

More likely, it was because D’Arcy had told her that his offer was to be his mistress. It grated on Alex to know that Glynis had finally agreed to wed him in the wake of her disappointment over D’Arcy.

Glynis came out of the bedchamber and closed the door softly behind her. “Sorcha needs a rest. Bessie will stay with her.”

“Good,” he said, grabbing her wrist. “We need to talk.”

He pulled her up the stairs to the chamber above, which was unoccupied. After sliding the bar across the door, he turned to face her.

“What do ye want, Glynis?”

“I want to marry ye,” Glynis said. “Do ye still want me?”

“I do,” Alex said, though he would be considerably happier about it if he thought her reasons for changing her mind had anything to do with him.

“I do have conditions,” Glynis said.

“Why does this no surprise me?” He folded his arms and narrowed his eyes at her. “And what might these conditions be?”

“The first is that we leave Inveraray Castle at once.”

“I must bid farewell to the chieftain and his family,” Alex said. “But we can be gone in an hour’s time.”

Her shoulders relaxed a bit. Evidently, she was desperate to get away from D’Arcy and put that disappointment behind her.

“What else?” he asked, keeping his voice even.

Her face was strained, and she could not look him in the eye. Whatever this second condition was, it was difficult for her to say it.

And he was certain he would not like it.

“I will no share your bed.”

What? If there was one thing he had been confident of, it was that he pleased her under the blankets. Did she dislike him so much that she would give up the pleasure they shared in bed?

“If all I wanted was a nursemaid, I would hire one. And I believe the chances are good that I could find a pretty one and bed her as well.” He added the last part because he was angry. “I want a wife. In every sense.”

Glynis flushed and bit her lip. She could not truly have expected him to agree to this. He waited to hear what she really wanted.

“I’ll share your bed—but only so long as ye are faithful.” She lifted her serious gray eyes to meet his. “If ye take another woman, I shall never willingly share your bed again.”

“Never willingly?” he said, white-hot anger sending sparks across his vision. What did she think of him? “I’m no the sort of man who forces women.”

“If ye take another woman, then ye must agree to give me a separate house to live in,” she said. “A small cottage would do.”

The anger welled in his chest, threatening to explode. Nay, he would not live as his parents did.

“Do ye agree?” She held his gaze as if she were trying to see into his soul for the truth.

He pulled her against him and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her with all the fury and passion pent up inside of him, until she was like liquid fire in his arms. When he pulled away, her eyes were dazed—just as he wanted.

“Ye want me to make love to ye,” he said, “until ye hear the blood thundering in your ears and see the flashes of light as I make ye come again and again.”

Her breath was ragged, and her lips parted and soft from his kisses.

“Say it,” he demanded.

“I do,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Ye want me to be your husband and to share my bed every night. Say it!”

“I do.”

He kissed her again until she moaned in his mouth and swayed against him. By God, she would want him and only him. His anger still was not spent when he released her a second time.