Page 89 of The Chieftain
“I want a family. I want to be mistress of my own home. I want a man I can call husband, who will take a vow to be faithful and keep it,” she said, relentlessly ticking off the things he could not give her. “I believe marriage to Gilleonan MacNeil will provide me with all that.”
“But will ye love him?” Connor asked, hating the desperation in his voice.
“I will feel useful and valued.” She wrapped her plaid around her shoulders and tied the corners together with a snap. “I will be content.”
“It sounds as though you’ve given this a great deal of thought.” Just how long had she been planning to leave him?
“I have,” she said.
“Who else did ye consider in all this thinking ye did? Lachlan of Lealt perhaps?” Connor asked. “Ye seem to have developed a true fondness for him.”
“Lachlan?” Her face showed surprise, and he wondered if she was feigning it. “I’d never wed a MacDonald now, especially one who would keep me here on Trotternish. I’m going where I won’t ever see ye again.”
Never see him again? Could she mean it? His anger drained out of him, leaving only emptiness in its place.
“I’ll tell the MacNeil when he comes here to join the battle against the MacLeods.” She busied herself adjusting the plaid over her nightshift and avoided looking at him as she spoke.
“If you’ll be happy with him, then I shall be content as well.” Connor made himself say it, though it was a lie. “But there’s no need for ye to make a hasty decision.”
“If the MacNeil still wants me, I’ll leave with him as soon as the battle’s done.”
That gave Connor almost no time to persuade her to change her mind.
“Remember, ye promised not to wed before Beltane,” Ilysa said. “Ye owe me that.”
“Does it matter now?” he asked.
She finally looked at him, and in her eyes he saw the deep sorrow that she had tried to hide behind her brusque manner.
“Aye,” she said softly, “it still matters.”
CHAPTER 34
No one leaves the castle without my permission,” Connor reminded everyone before they settled down to their meal.
He had first issued the order the moment Jane set foot in the castle. If word of her grandfather’s imminent arrival with three hundred warriors reached the MacLeods, they would attack at once while the odds were still in their favor.
Jane sat next to him, and his appetite steadily dwindled as she prattled on about the latest court fashions. His thoughts grew blacker as he scanned the faces of his men while they ate, wondering which of them had murdered the two guards and left the gate open for Hugh. He had no better idea of who the culprit was now than the night it happened.
He was relieved when Lachlan entered the hall and strode to the head table, interrupting the meal.
“You and Sorely, come with me,” Connor said, rising from his chair.
Whatever Lachlan had discovered on his latest excursion around the peninsula, Connor did not want him to speak of it in front of everyone in the hall. And he was glad for the excuse to leave.
As he turned to go, he caught the question in Ilysa’s eyes and gave a slight nod. Before he left, he saw her pick up a flask of wine from the table as a pretext for coming into his chamber while he met with the two men. He had become accustomed to having her listen in on his private meetings and sharing her insights with him afterward. Apparently she had decided not to abandon him entirely yet, though she had avoided him all day up until now.
“What news do ye bring?” Connor asked Lachlan once the three of them were settled at the table in his chamber.
Sorely kept glancing over his shoulder, as if he expected the nursemaid’s ghost to sneak up behind him and strangle him. Connor withstood the temptation to knock some sense into him.
“The MacLeods have gathered more men at the Snizort River,” Lachlan reported. “They’re harassing the few MacDonald farmers who still live near the river.”
“Our warriors from Sleat and North Uist will be here soon, as well as MacIain’s,” Connor said. “We cannot let ourselves be drawn into battle before they arrive.”
“While we’re waiting,” Lachlan said, “can we rattle some MacLeod cages a bit to divert them from the farmers?”
Connor had precisely the same idea. “I’ll send you two and the other men I can spare to the Snizort River.”
