Highlander Unbroken (Highland Adventure Book 8) by Vonda Sinclair Page B
Authors: Vonda Sinclair
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fighting men."
"I ken it, but you're a canny chief. You're capable of doing many things. Simply look how you went from a bedridden invalid to such a strong and fearsome warrior. I have much confidence in you, lad. Besides that, wedding the right lass could bring many warriors into the garrison from another clan. You could make that a part of the marriage agreement."
He damn well hated that his uncle made a good point. He refused to choose his wife based on how many soldiers her father could spare. To his way of thinking, marriage should be so much more than a business arrangement.
Neacal ground his teeth and they rejoined everyone in the great hall for the meal. It was a tedious affair. He wanted naught more than to leave them all where they sat, go out and climb a mountain in the fresh air. The room was stifling and too warm with so many people crammed into it.
Anna no longer sat at the table where he'd seen her before. Where had she gone? He scanned the room for her bonny face and blond hair.
Simply looking into her eyes could calm him and chase away his anger. But listening to her sing affected him in ways he didn't want to think of. Her voice ripped at his emotions.
When the lute music began and she moved in front of the musicians, he knew 'twas his cue to leave.
"Please excuse me. I have some business to attend to," Neacal said to Chief MacRury. "Make yourselves at home and enjoy the entertainment." He bowed. At the edge of the great hall, he asked the housekeeper to take care of the MacRurys. She assured him chambers were being prepared.
Neacal left the room and climbed the spiral stone staircase. How he wished Anna was with him now. He would give anything to hold her, to talk to her in the quiet and the breeze off the loch. But her lovely voice rang out behind him as if she were a divine being from the heavens.
But she was not an angel. She was a flesh-and-blood woman who stole his senses and stirred his blood as no woman ever had.
Once on the battlements, he drew in a deep breath of the fresh, crisp air and calmness stole over him.
"Chief?" someone said in a low tone. He turned and found Matthew slipping from behind a chimney.
"Aye?"
"I'd hoped you would come up here. Our plan is working," he whispered. "Three more men, aside from Roy and Parlan, have expressed their disloyalty toward you." Matthew named them.
"Damnation," Neacal muttered, though none of the traitors were guards, they were still his clansmen, a couple of them distant cousins. What was he going to do with them? Once they ferreted them all out, he would have to lock them in the dungeon. "I thank you for telling me."
"I want to keep up the pretense for a few days and see how many more rotten apples are in the barrel."
Neacal nodded. "I appreciate it. I know this cannot be easy for you. Some of these men are your friends."
"But no longer, if they're traitors to you."
What would he do if half the clan was against him?
***
Anna could not believe it when a second clan arrived the next day—the MacGills. How many more would come? Rumors had spread that the elders were searching for a bride for their new chief. Anna wondered what Neacal thought of this. Judging by the annoyed expression on his face, he was extremely irked. He had not spoken with her in a few days and she wondered why. It had something to do with the kiss, but she was not certain whether he was angry with her or with himself.
The ladies who were arriving certainly were beautiful, and young. Girls of around seventeen summers. Anna had also been seventeen when she'd married, so 'twas naught unusual.
Still, the idea that Neacal could potentially wed one of these lasses caused jealousy to rip a hole through her. Although she had no claim on him, his kiss had delved into her soul. She wished for it again… could not sleep at night… thought of him every moment. How foolish was she? Neacal was beyond her reach and, at present, far above her social station. Although she
"I ken it, but you're a canny chief. You're capable of doing many things. Simply look how you went from a bedridden invalid to such a strong and fearsome warrior. I have much confidence in you, lad. Besides that, wedding the right lass could bring many warriors into the garrison from another clan. You could make that a part of the marriage agreement."
He damn well hated that his uncle made a good point. He refused to choose his wife based on how many soldiers her father could spare. To his way of thinking, marriage should be so much more than a business arrangement.
Neacal ground his teeth and they rejoined everyone in the great hall for the meal. It was a tedious affair. He wanted naught more than to leave them all where they sat, go out and climb a mountain in the fresh air. The room was stifling and too warm with so many people crammed into it.
Anna no longer sat at the table where he'd seen her before. Where had she gone? He scanned the room for her bonny face and blond hair.
Simply looking into her eyes could calm him and chase away his anger. But listening to her sing affected him in ways he didn't want to think of. Her voice ripped at his emotions.
When the lute music began and she moved in front of the musicians, he knew 'twas his cue to leave.
"Please excuse me. I have some business to attend to," Neacal said to Chief MacRury. "Make yourselves at home and enjoy the entertainment." He bowed. At the edge of the great hall, he asked the housekeeper to take care of the MacRurys. She assured him chambers were being prepared.
Neacal left the room and climbed the spiral stone staircase. How he wished Anna was with him now. He would give anything to hold her, to talk to her in the quiet and the breeze off the loch. But her lovely voice rang out behind him as if she were a divine being from the heavens.
But she was not an angel. She was a flesh-and-blood woman who stole his senses and stirred his blood as no woman ever had.
Once on the battlements, he drew in a deep breath of the fresh, crisp air and calmness stole over him.
"Chief?" someone said in a low tone. He turned and found Matthew slipping from behind a chimney.
"Aye?"
"I'd hoped you would come up here. Our plan is working," he whispered. "Three more men, aside from Roy and Parlan, have expressed their disloyalty toward you." Matthew named them.
"Damnation," Neacal muttered, though none of the traitors were guards, they were still his clansmen, a couple of them distant cousins. What was he going to do with them? Once they ferreted them all out, he would have to lock them in the dungeon. "I thank you for telling me."
"I want to keep up the pretense for a few days and see how many more rotten apples are in the barrel."
Neacal nodded. "I appreciate it. I know this cannot be easy for you. Some of these men are your friends."
"But no longer, if they're traitors to you."
What would he do if half the clan was against him?
***
Anna could not believe it when a second clan arrived the next day—the MacGills. How many more would come? Rumors had spread that the elders were searching for a bride for their new chief. Anna wondered what Neacal thought of this. Judging by the annoyed expression on his face, he was extremely irked. He had not spoken with her in a few days and she wondered why. It had something to do with the kiss, but she was not certain whether he was angry with her or with himself.
The ladies who were arriving certainly were beautiful, and young. Girls of around seventeen summers. Anna had also been seventeen when she'd married, so 'twas naught unusual.
Still, the idea that Neacal could potentially wed one of these lasses caused jealousy to rip a hole through her. Although she had no claim on him, his kiss had delved into her soul. She wished for it again… could not sleep at night… thought of him every moment. How foolish was she? Neacal was beyond her reach and, at present, far above her social station. Although she
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