old.
He must have just come up the stairs, and he was staring coolly at them. “Yer not guests. Yer hostages. Alasdair said so.”
Juliana was incredulous. She knew he was related to Alasdair instantly, and not just because of his demeanor. He looked like a childish version of him, with the same dark hair and blue eyes. “And whom might you be? I am Lady Juliana MacDougall,” she said, her tone deliberately imperious.
“I am Alexander—the second Alexander.” As he spoke, she heard footsteps behind him.
Alasdair appeared on the landing. “I see you have met my little brother, Alexander—we call him the little wolf.” He smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Even ye must be kind to a captive—she is a lady.”
The boy shrugged and slipped away, hurrying back down the stairs.
And suddenly they were very much alone, and she was acutely aware of it, as she felt her heart racing.
He said softly, “Ye vanished so quickly last night.”
She had fled supper, with the intention of making certain she got safely to her own bed.
“Did my father frighten ye?”
She said carefully, “Yes, he did.”
Their gazes were locked when suddenly Mary appeared with Roger and Donald in hand.
She looked back and forth between them. “Good morning,” she said to Alasdair.
He smiled at her. “I hope ye slept well. Ye need not confine the boys. Ye can take a walk in the courtyard, or upon the beach, with my guard. “
“Thank you,” Mary said. She looked at her sons. “Please go into the chamber and tell Elasaid to get your cloaks.” When they were gone, she stepped closer to Juliana—as if to protect her. “When will you ask for ransoms?”
“I am sending a messenger this afternoon,” Alasdair said. “I am about to write the missive.”
“You are asking for ransoms for us both?” Juliana asked.
He smiled at her. “Why would ye think otherwise?”
She felt like kicking his shin. “Because I hardly trust you.”
“I am writing both Comyn and MacDougall, have no fear, Lady Juliana. I could hardly keep ye here without asking for a ransom.”
Of course he had to ask for a ransom. An even greater war would result if he simply held her captive, against her will. “And will you also do as your father asked—will you ask for the names of any spies?”
He slowly smiled. “As a sign of good faith, I will.”
Her heart sank. Ransoms took months to pay, or years, if they were excessive. But to demand the identity of any MacDougall spies would only anger her brother and complicate matters.
“Do you want to walk with us?” Mary asked her.
Juliana realized she was hesitating. If her sister were out for a few hours, she would be free to do as she wished.
An image had flashed in her mind—of being in Alasdair’s arms. What was wrong with her? They had spent an hour together. That tryst was not to be repeated. Alasdair might admire her, and he might lust for her, but he was a ruthless man. She had seen that herself. She would be deluding herself if she came to believe that he might sincerely protect her. That he might forget she was Alexander MacDougall’s sister. That he was any less ruthless than Angus Mor.
“Of course I will walk with you.” Not looking at Alasdair, Juliana turned and hurried away.
* * *
JULIANA APPROACHED THE great hall and saw her sister seated at the table with her boys, Elasaid, and Lady MacDonald. , Alasdair’s brother, the little wolf, was with them. While the women conversed, the boys were in a fierce discussion, and Juliana could not imagine about what. But she smiled, pleased that the second Alexander was being friendly to her nephews.
None of the men were present.
She suddenly heard a great commotion in the entry hall, which was flanked by two towers. She heard men’s voices, booted steps, the jangle of spurs, doors closing, bolts being jammed. Juliana hurried to the end of the corridor and peered around it into the stone entry chamber.
A great many men stood there, all shedding snow from their furs and plaids. She had already known Alasdair was present, because she had recognized his voice immediately. Now she saw him embracing another man—a man as tall and muscular as he was, with similar dark hair, a blue-and-red plaid visible beneath the fur he wore. As she watched the two men, she knew that Alasdair was greeting his brother, Angus Og.
He and his Highlanders had clearly just arrived at Dunyveg, never mind the late hour and the snow. Angus Mor shouldered through the men to clasp his son’s shoulder. “Yer late,” he said, but warmly.
“Hello Father,” Angus Og said. “The snow is even worse in the east.”
Juliana could now see his face. He was so obviously Alasdair’s brother—he had the same high cheekbones, the same blue eyes, the same strong jaw, and even a similar mane of dark hair. “Did ye succeed in convincing Lennox to support Bruce?” Angus Mor demanded.
“The Earl of Lennox will think about it and he will decide in a week or two—before he meets Menteith,” Angus Og said.
“We will never take the throne for Bruce without Lennox and Atholl,” Angus Mor said grimly.
“Maybe I should seek out Atholl.” Alasdair was as dark. “I am impatient, awaiting his reply.”
Angus Mor scowled. “Are we being played? Do they truly think to prosper under John Balliol?”
“There is more,” Angus Og said, his blue eyes heating. “Richard de Burgh failed to attend the council. He sent word instead that he was delayed.”
There was a surprised silence.
Juliana’s mind was racing as she listened to them. She hadn’t meant to spy, but the information she had discovered might be valuable to her brother. She could not believe they meant to rally the earls of Lennox and Atholl, or that the Irish magnate, de Burgh, was also on their side. She knew she should retreat before she was seen. As she was about to flee back around the corner, Alasdair turned and looked at her.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
Instantly, Angus Mor looked in her direction, and Angus Og turned fully around, espying her as well.
Juliana stiffened in fear; Alasdair strode over to her. “Lady Juliana?” he asked tightly.
She met his gaze and saw the warning there. “I heard voices. Your mother wished for you to join her....” What kind of an excuse was that! She swallowed. “I told her I would find you.”
Angus Mor strode to her, his face hard, his eyes ice-cold. “Do we have a bold spy in our midst—yet again?” He turned to Alasdair. “Did she deceive ye, Alasdair? Perhaps she is not yer captive
