But it was his eyes that drew her in. They were the dark blue of the sea, with an almost savage beauty in them.
She nodded to him and was startled when he raised a hand in greeting. Every instinct warned her to leave, to abandon the dolmen and go back home. But instead, she drew her horse to a halt and stared at the man.
Keep riding, her instincts warned. He is a stranger.
‘A good afternoon to you, lass. It’s a beautiful place here.’ Though he spoke Gaelic, his voice held an unfamiliar accent. Was he from Aberdeen or even Oban? It was difficult to tell. She frowned, wondering who he was. It bothered her so deeply, she drew her horse closer, to see if she could determine his identity from his features.
Her heartbeat quickened at the sight of him, and her mouth grew dry. His face captivated her attention, drawing her closer. There was a faint scar upon his throat, and his expression was hardened, like a man accustomed to battle. Everything about the man spoke of a leader, for he carried his confidence like a weapon.
He wore a saffron léine, trews, and a brat woven in the MacKinloch colours of blue and green. And yet, she knew he was not of that neighbouring clan. Curiosity roiled up within her, and she was torn about whether to return to her father’s house. That would be the sensible thing to do.
But she didn’t dare move. The long shirt was ill-fitting, straining against his muscular chest. Beneath it, she spied powerful thighs clad in the trews.
She couldn’t think of one single word to say. Her brain could have been filled up with straw, so empty it was.
‘You needn’t be afraid of me,’ he said. ‘I came at your father’s invitation.’
Only then did she realise that she was gripping the hilt of her dagger. She eyed the Highlander, wondering if he was any threat to her. Her brother had taught her to defend herself, and she would not hesitate, if it were necessary. Yet somehow, she believed this man when he’d said she shouldn’t be afraid. He hadn’t moved at all, treating her like a wild horse, ready to bolt.
She shook away her idle thoughts. ‘Are you a visitor, then?’
He inclined his head. ‘I’ve come for the wedding.’
With effort, she concealed her dismay. He was one of the MacKinloch guests, then. Perhaps distant kin to her mother. Lianna studied him a moment, feeling as if she ought to know who he was. But he looked like none of the clansmen.
She could almost imagine what her brother would say to her. Ride back to our home at once. You cannot speak to a stranger alone. If he were here, Sían would seize the reins of her horse and force her to go back.
Was it wrong to steal just another look at the man before she left? She hesitated, but before she could turn back, he smiled at her. Without understanding why, the very breath in her lungs seemed to catch.
Men didn’t smile at her. Not ever. More often they rolled their eyes at her or let out an exasperated sigh while her brother made excuses.
Lianna glanced behind her, in case there was someone else approaching. But no, she was alone.
He was easily the most handsome man she’d ever seen. And he was smiling at her, wasn’t he? That was something indeed. But only because he did not realise that she was the bride.
Lianna knew she should leave, but it bothered her to abandon her plans. Every day at this time, she took her meal at the dolmen. It gave her an hour to sit by the sea and dream. Her life formed a pattern with each day ordered into precise pieces. She knew when she would awaken, when she would work, when she would eat, and when she would sleep.
But it felt as if someone had shaken her life into pieces just now, shattering it with the impending presence of the Norman she was meant to wed. And now with this man.
His very presence had interrupted her noon meal. This was her place, not his. He ought to be the one to leave. And perhaps if she could convince him to go, she could return to her moments of peace.
‘If you have come in search of the MacKinnon chief, he is back at Eiloch.’ She pointed towards the road by which she had travelled. ‘Follow the path, and you will find our house. My father will grant you hospitality.’
She expected him to nod and obey her command. Instead, he appeared to have little interest in departing. She noticed then that he had no horse. Had he stabled it elsewhere?
‘You seem eager to be rid of me,’ he remarked.
Lianna stopped herself before she nodded in agreement. Instead, she asked, ‘What is your name?’
The Highlander leaned against the dolmen, staring out at the clear sky and the blue sea. A thin mist of clouds rimmed the horizon in the distance, and the sun lit the ripples of water in a pool of fire. ‘You may call me Gavin MacAllister.’
A MacAllister? That didn’t seem right at all. ‘Then why are you wearing the MacKinloch colours?’
His mouth twisted. ‘I had to borrow clothing when my daft horse tossed me into the mud.’ His gaze fixed upon her face. ‘I suppose you must be Lianna MacKinnon, the bride.’
‘I am. Unfortunately.’ She made no effort to hide her reluctance and patted her horse’s back. Likely he had guessed her identity after she’d revealed that her father was the chief.
‘Then you do not look forward to your wedding?’
She made a face. ‘Not at all. How would you like to be forced into marriage with a stranger? He could be cruel. Nay, I’ve no wish to be married.’
‘And what if he is a good man?’ Gavin prompted.
‘He is a Norman. And he will want me to change everything—my home, my clothing...everything about myself.’ She shuddered at the thought. ‘I want to stay here with my family. And...they need me here.’
She didn’t know why she was confiding all of this to a stranger and changed the subject. ‘What of you? You said you came to Eiloch for the wedding?’ Lianna unfastened her bundle of food and spread it upon the stone dolmen between them. Though she had only a little to share, she would not eat without offering him what she had. She broke off a piece of the bread and held it out to him. He reached for it and caught her palm in his.
Lianna froze when his thumb grazed her skin. Heat swelled up inside her, and she could not understand how this man could have such an effect upon her.
‘I came because my family wanted to build an alliance with your clan.’
Her mind began reeling through the names of all the MacAllisters she knew. There was a clan to the south, and it might be that he was kin to Rourke MacAllister. She was about to ask him when he interrupted.
‘I am sorry you are being forced into this marriage,’ he said, still holding her palm. ‘I ken what it is to live a life where others make decisions and there is naught you can do.’
‘But there is something I can do,’ she said, pulling her hand back. With effort, she steadied her breathing and forced herself to eat a bite of bread. ‘I have been saving coins for years. I will offer Rhys de Laurent all that I have in return for my freedom. We can go on as we did before.’
He gave her a sidelong look.
