Highland Defiance - By Sky Purington Page 0,54

back and head held high.

As promised.

The keep was alive as she descended. An unseasonable cold front had moved in and light snow fell beyond the sturdy stone walls. A pipe trilled and echoed up, an eerie sound as it met the small flakes blowing in on the wind. She looked down to see the white, icy orbs shift and dance toward their death below.

But it was no death for her.

More determined than ever, Mildred made her way to the bottom. The feeling of lightheartedness and joy from the previous night was gone. In its place, structure, determination… Bruce.

Iosbail took her arm at the bottom of the stairs and walked with her to a long table set before the fire. Laird Bruce waited, his gaze lusty and appreciative. When she sat next to him she scanned the crowd. Adlin sat at one of the long trestle tables. Instead of avoiding her gaze as he had before their gazes locked and held.

“I intend to have you for the night,” Bruce said.

Expression blank, she smiled. “I will be in the keep but you will not have me until we’re properly married. Surely you understand.”

She started to lift a goblet to her lips but he grabbed her arm. “I ken you traveled here for a chance at the MacLomain laird,” he growled, his cunning eyes slipped to hers. “How did that go, lass?”

“Not well,” she replied automatically. “I believe I spoke of his tastes.”

Bruce lifted his chin slightly and eyed her hair. “Not fair enough.”

She shook her head.

Though he released her arm and drank deeply, Mildred sensed that he didn’t believe her. When he turned his attention to the man beside her she looked to Adlin only to find him looking the other way. Her eyes turned to Iosbail. In true fashion, she was the ever devoted wife to the man she’d just married. Would she spin around the fire tonight enticing every man?

Unlikely.

Mildred contemplated what Adlin had told her when they’d arrived at the holding earlier. Apparently it was imperative that history flow a certain way. In order for that to happen she needed to agree to this betrothal and see it through until Adlin came up with a way to stop it. Iosbail had done her part. Adlin his.

Now it was her turn.

Under any other circumstance she’d be petrified and want nothing to do with it. But the thought of letting down Adlin didn’t sit well. She’d convinced him to allow her to stay and so here she was, doing what was right for all parties affected. Not only that, the thought of leaving Adlin was absolutely heartbreaking.

That was the real reason she agreed.

She didn’t want to leave him.

But she supposed any fool could see that. Even the non-fools like Iosbail.

When her eyes searched out Adlin’s, his were already on her. Had he been following her thoughts again? This time, she hoped not. He might not have liked it so much.

“I’d say he’s just fine with the darker haired lasses,” Bruce cut into her thoughts.

Mildred looked down and shrugged. “I’d say he’s just curious about your attraction to me.”

Bruce laughed, his barrel chest creating a rumbling sound throughout the hall. Everyone grew silent. As if he’d planned it, the MacLeod laird stood and his booming voice overwhelming. “No need to wait any longer. I’ll marry Mildred now!” He turned. “Have you a holy man, brother?”

Iosbail’s husband seemed wary at first then hardened his expression. “Aye.”

Stomach flipped inside out, Mildred tried to catch her breath. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Adlin had assured her the MacLeod laird would want the wedding at his castle despite what he’d said previously. Bruce was a man who liked things done in his immediate realm. When she looked at the MacLomain laird she realized that he was equally surprised by Bruce’s declaration.

“No.” Adlin stood.

A declaration from one chieftain against another meant battle.

The MacLeod and MacLomain clansmen drew their weapons, the sound of steel sliding a shrieking deathly sound.

Music ceased.

Women and children seemed to fade into the shadows.

Iosbail groaned.

As if he expected his new brother-in-law to do exactly as he had, Bruce rocked back on his heels and crossed two heavily muscled arms over his chest. “No?”

“No,” Adlin repeated.

The two lairds never took their eyes off one another.

“She’s mine, MacLomain,” Bruce said. “It’s been agreed.”

“Things have changed. I want her now,” Adlin replied evenly.

Mumbled sounds of disbelief rumbled through the crowd.

“Ye’ve always wanted her.” He glanced at Mildred. “Who wouldnae?” He fingered her hair. “Such a