Page 30 of At the Highlander's Mercy
His suspicions were correct. But he pushed now for the truth. ‘Who made the first contact with the
MacKenzies?’
‘Well, I hate to be one to tell tales...’ Murtagh began. He paused for a mouthful of the whisky before continuing. Rob filled his cup again for good measure. ‘Your da was not happy with the way the MacLerie treated you.’
Now that was a surprise. He thought that Angus and Connor remained friends until the end.
‘When that...’ Murtagh pointed and rolled his finger in the air ‘...business with the lass happened, Angus took your side. Said to wait for your explanation. That there was more to this than youthful stupidity.’
Though his father’s reaction surprised him, it did nothing to explain the more recent changes.
‘That is old history. More than four years ago. He remarried since then and expected an heir. Why did my father look to the MacKenzies?’
‘Well, that...’ Murtagh drank a large portion of hiswhisky and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Symon’s stepda had MacKenzie ties. He thought an alliance with them would be better for us than with the MacLeries. A possible marriage was mentioned.’
Marriage? His other half-sisters from Angus’s previous marriage were yet too young to enter into negotiations now. His own attempt with the MacLerie heiress had ended in spectacular failure and he’d be no target for the MacKenzies. Could it be? ‘Symon?’
‘Nay, not the boy.’ Murtagh shook his head. ‘Tyra.’
Tyra? His now-betrothed? ‘This letter and the others do not mention that at all.’
‘A private arrangement, I think. First her marriage, then a stronger bond through the treaty.’
So, a gradual moving away from the MacLerie alliance to one with the MacKenzies, then? Yet neither Symon nor Tyra objected when the elders suggested instead that Rob and Tyra be joined to end the fighting between the two branches of the family.
‘Did my father know of those plans? To marry her into the MacKenzies?’
‘Symon’s stepda talked with him about it more than a year ago, before both of their deaths. Your father did not object. Though he had hopes that Tyra would marry the MacLerie lad or Symon would wed one of Connor’s kin.’
Kin or his daughter? Rob wondered.
Kidnapping was a time-honoured tradition and a means to a bride that might otherwise be out of a man’s reach. Is that why Symon had kidnapped Lilidh? Once he’d taken her, did he mean to keep her? Maybe he’dthought that since Rob had rejected her once, she was available to him?
But no one here knew about Iain’s death, so taking a married woman did nothing but infuriate her kin and her husband. Or had Symon known?
Rob’s head spun with all the possible connections that Murtagh’s words had uncovered. Like a spider’s web woven across clans, each strand connected others that branched out endlessly. Who knew what when? Who wanted which clan? Why? None of that mattered in a way since in each of them was Connor’s and Angus’s belief that any link between their clans or with the MacKenzies would not involve the bastard son.
And, even worse, Rob becoming laird and chief had mucked things up and interfered with many plans. He had much to think about before Connor arrived at his gates, but even more to do before that happened.
‘My thanks, Murtagh,’ he said, slapping the man on the shoulder. ‘I hope I can earn your support in the coming weeks.’
The older man blinked several times at Rob’s admission, probably not expecting to have his support requested rather than demanded. They parted then and Rob went to check on Dougal’s arrangements for weapons and arrows. He prayed to God they wouldn’t need them, but better to be prepared than to be found empty-handed.
* * *
By the time night had fallen, Rob believed them almost ready to deal with the MacLeries who would arrive soon. Sentries had been posted at the edges of theirlands to report any sightings of anyone not invited to be there.
He had hesitated in contacting the MacKenzie laird, hoping that he and Connor could come to terms and end this peaceably. Then, with Lilidh safely returned to her parents and his clan safe from annihilation, he could decide over the future alliances that would benefit and protect his people. The fewer who were involved the better, he thought as he sat down at table for the evening meal.
Each day his hall seemed smaller as more and more from the outlying farms and the village took refuge from the coming storm there. The meals grew plainer, which suited him, though not his betrothed. Tyra wore a strange, rather self-pleased look upon her face and it gave him pause. He was growing more and more suspicious about her and her brother’s roles in the débâcle he faced.
‘How do you fare, Tyra?’ he asked, after being served his food. He could not accuse her or Symon of anything. Yet.
‘I am well,’ she said with a smile. A smile that made his gut tighten with its sweetness.
‘Has Symon returned yet?’ he asked, glancing at the empty place next to her.
‘I do not keep track of my brother’s comings and goings,’ she replied. He watched her face, but she gave no indication that there was another meaning or that she lied. ‘Surely he carries out the duties you have assigned him, Rob.’
