"Aye, why no’?" Sheena shook her black hair back from her face. "I'd make him a good wife, and at least he'd never have to question where my loyalty lies."
"Which is why you're sneaking around trying to help me to escape?"
Had the Mackinnon encouraged the girl’s pretensions? Had he swived her? It wasnae hard to imagine his big powerful body moving over Sheena's voluptuous curves, perhaps even in the bed behind her.
The vivid image shouldn’t put a nasty taste in Mhairi’s mouth. Even hating him as she did, she could see women would find him appealing.
Still that nasty taste lingered in her mouth.
"Aye, well, he doesnae have to ken."
"If ye can get me to my cousin, I can leave with him."
The girl treated that idea with open disdain. "Are ye daft? Your cousin is under guard. There’s nae getting near him. No, we’ll wait until he's gone, then I'll smuggle ye out of the castle."
"The Mackinnon sleeps here."
The flash of resentment in Sheena's eyes confirmed her suspicions about the girl's pretensions to becoming the next lady of the keep. "Aye, but he's no’ always about the castle. He has obligations to the people who farm his lands. We'll get our chance. Just be ready to go, the second I say the word."
Could it really be this easy? Excitement flooded Mhairi. And hope. She didn't trust this girl, but she could see that getting the Drummond heiress back to Bruard suited them both.
"Aye, I'll be ready," she said, as the door opened and Jean came in.
"Sheena, have ye gone to sleep up here? I wanted those dirty towels twenty minutes ago."
"Aye, Jean." The girl snatched up the towels and disappeared through the door, shooting Mhairi a meaningful look as she went. Mhairi lowered her eyes to hide her surging anticipation from Jean’s sharp gaze. Was it possible she might yet escape marriage with the Mackinnon?
***
Thoughts of getting away filled Mhairi's mind as she stared out across the extraordinary view to Skye. Now that escape was a possibility, she found it easier to appreciate her surroundings. The tower room was like something from an old tale, a place where a princess might take shelter from a marauding dragon perhaps. Although in this case, the princess was trapped in the dragon’s lair.
She glanced around the opulent room and recognized it as a fit setting for the remarkable man who ruled this glen. She might not want to wed him, but it was clear Black Callum was a man of vision and authority. And she’d be a fool not to note how rarely he lost his temper. A rare quality in the male animal, in her experience. Even after Jean's impudent trick last night, he'd taken his setback in good spirit.
Because he’s sure he's going to win in the end.
Thanks to Sheena, perhaps now he wouldn't succeed, and Mhairi would be back with her father before too long. She offered up a silent prayer for her plans to come to fruition. When she turned, her captor was watching her from the center of the room.
"Mackinnon…" she gasped.
For a brief moment, she saw him not as her unwelcome suitor or her kidnapper, but as the man he was. Sheena's interest in him made perfect sense. Black Callum would set any maiden's pulses racing. As she looked at him, Mhairi’s breath jammed in her throat.
He wore the kilt in the strong red and black Mackinnon colors. His loose white shirt did little to conceal the powerful contours of his chest and broad shoulders. His long black hair was tied at his nape. The powerful memory arose of his shoulders flexing as he bent over the wash bowl, rinsing that straight, shining hair. Her fluttering heart turned heavy as it crashed against her chest.
He smiled at her. Properly. As though he was pleased to see her. "Mistress Drummond, it's a bonny afternoon. It seems a sin to keep ye cooped up in here when the sun is shining."
She couldn't remember him smiling like this. As if no dark clouds oppressed them. Dazzled she stared at him. The unexpected ease in his manner made him look young and carefree. Until now, he’d mostly been a grim presence, but this man looked like he found great pleasure in life. This man looked like he thought she was a pleasure.
This man was more dangerous to her than a thousand glowering jailers.
"Mhairi?"
She flushed as she realized she must gape moonstruck at him. "I'd like that," she said, even as she wondered what price he'd extract for this concession. And deciding she didn't care.
Sitting up here alone all day, staring into space and worrying, threatened to drive her mad. Could she trust Sheena? Would the escape plan work? How was her father? What report would her cousin take back to Bruard? Would word reach her clan that she shared the Mackinnon's bed? What was the Mackinnon's next move in this unwelcome courtship?
Well, it seemed she had an answer to that at least.
"That's braw." He held out his arm, for once giving her the choice whether she took it.