Chapter 58

The handful of short days before The Standing passed in a blur. With my intention to keep the Delegation a secret until the last possible moment, my time seemed split down to the last second. Management of the hundred of visitors, the day-to-day function of the castle, and debates with the Delegation that stretched ever further into the early morning. I was exhausted. One upside of all the distraction meant I scarcely thought about The Standing at all. This also meant I could not spare a thought on how best to make sure Alex ended up as my betrothed.

An hour before the damned event was to begin, I stomped across my rooms, mind spinning. There had to be a way around Mother's rule against Mainlander bids. My one comfort was knowing Alex was more than prepared. Crates and trunks full of money, wine, fine silks, and exquisite jewelry sat stockpiled in his room — booty sourced from The Fist to embolden his claim. The sheer cost of all the goods alone was more than enough to buy the entire island out from under my family's control. Whether that would mean anything to my Mother remained to be seen. She was a haughty woman, and she was vain; bribes could be effective.

I heard the door open and close behind me as I let out an anguished groan. My thoughts led me to no successful outcomes. Halting my pacing, I stopped in front of the mirror and saw Alex behind me. Relief made my legs wobble.

"Morning," I whispered.

He grimaced, his face pale. Alex wore a pair of copper breeches that glowed in the low, autumn light. His rich coat of deep green velvet added a sharp form to his strong, tall frame. His curls were waxed, shining, and cut to a uniform length. A clean shave had left his skin pink. Looking down at my gown, lustrous emerald silk with bronze detailing, I smiled. We were a matching pair. I saw Calum's hand in that. He had been unwavering in his demand that I wear this dress, and this one only.

"In all our toiling, I always forget you are quite the impressive gentleman," I said, enjoying the view of him.

He looked down at his outfit and offered me a playful bow. "But am I also handsome?"

Despite my nerves, I laughed. "The most handsome."

"It's the least I could do to honor my most beloved and beautiful lady," he said, as his eyes raked over me.

My skin prickled and an undercurrent of want sparked lively and urgent in my blood. Need burned in his eyes, the blue depths piercing. As our eyes met, the world stilled. The moment was eternal. Looking at each other. The silence was deafening. I drank in his image like a restorative tonic, memorized the lines and planes of his face, the gilded twist of his hair. He had always been my noon sun, the promise of joy and happiness; a radiant light. It was torture not to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin under my fingertips. Taking a few steps toward him, I reached up, caressing his cheek. His jaw was firm under my palm. Smooth, too.

"It's a pity about the beard. I rather liked it," I breathed. My voice was strained, from nerves or lust. I couldn't tell.

"I love you too, Eilean," he teased, kissing my palm.

The tenderness of my name slipped from his lips with all the delicacy of an enchantment. An invocation meant only for us. I allowed myself to believe we would come to rights.

Alex pressed his forehead against mine. Both of his hands encircled my neck with a gentle command. A familiar touch, born of years of shared intimacy. I shook, moved by my erratic emotions that were high one second, low the next.

"We can do this," I promised.

"I will not lose you."

At the sound of our oaths, my heart skipped a beat. A world opened up before me, the vision crystal-clear and full of promise. Alex and I married, settled at Stormway. More breakfasts, more dreaming. Business and harvests and plans for the future. Serving the people we loved, working the land that had taken in our hearts. Doing the one-hundred things we had always done but now with a sense of security and finality. The two of us, walking down the path we had stepped onto so long ago.

I wanted it more than I could bear, the life we had built together. Here. At Stormway. I could lie to myself, to him, and pretend it would content me to sail off to The Fist and be his lady. I knew Alex would give me a good life on the Mainland, but it would be a devastating blow. One I wasn't sure I could survive. Alex knew it too, which is why he had never asked.

"I forbid you from failing at this," I said, opening my eyes. "I could never forgive you."

Alex kissed my forehead, my nose, my cheeks. "Calum told me I could move in with you two at Istimere. He would house me in a room next to yours and would not be jealous of me as your mistress."

I laughed as tears splashed onto my cheeks. "Wicked."

Wiping his cheeks, Alex shook his head. His tears and a long, mournful sigh disturbed his otherwise calm facade. For half a second, I saw the mask crack and the soul-ravaged fear underneath.

"It was always you, you know." I smiled up at him. "You fought for me, stood by me, gave me everything. You saw me before anyone else noticed I was there. Stormway and the war gave me a reason and a purpose, but Alex... you gave me my life."

Alex nodded, overcome with a fresh round of tears, and drew me into his chest. His arms were more of a home than the castle walls around us. More than I would ever need. Lifting my chin, he kissed me. The sensation all at once familiar and new. Without the beard, his skin was cool against my own.

Starved for the security that he was, and always would be, mine; I let my head fall back. Offering my neck to his urgent, fervent kisses. There was still enough summer left in the air for me to feel warm, but as Alex kissed a trail from my neck down to the top of my bodice, I shivered with chills. Any control disappeared, our hands and bodies became frantic. We united in the same goal, fear running like a thread between both of our minds. What if this was goodbye?

I pulled back, stared into his eyes. His gaze was too stormy, too intense to endure, yet I couldn't pull myself away from their half-lidded softness. Walking backward, I pulled him by the lapels of his jacket until the bed hit the back o my thighs. I sat, not blinking as I hefted the cumbersome skirts and petticoats up, holding them in my arms.

Alex buried his face in my neck. I ran my hands through his hair. He undid his trousers. I stood, guiding him down onto the bed, and allowed myself an unladylike moan of pleasure as I sat astride his lap and became one with him.

Our tryst was frenzied, hard and impatient, demanding. Both of us clawing and scratching for every inch, every unexposed part of the other. Pouring a lifetime of passion and desire and need into this single moment. Eventually, it slowed and a certain gentleness took over. A different type of conquest that made my skin feel too alive and each motion within me sacred and spellbinding. Release spent me like a coin and I was boneless, a pool of flesh and brilliance at the end.

My body struggled to recover. I took deep breaths and closed my eyes, storing up the moment and the sensations so that I might never forget them. I knew my face and chest were florid, the rosy evidence of my pleasure plain as day. Half-heartedly, I fanned myself, hoping to dull the tint.

Alex trailed his hands up and down my thighs, languid and distracted. His head rested on my breasts and he panted, doing his best to slow his breathing.

It was at that moment that my brothers, led by Rupert, stormed through the door.

"Good god!" I said, sitting up in fright, throwing my skirts down over my legs.

Alex swore and sprung out of the bed, tucking his shirt back into his pants and lacing up his breeches.

"I guess we could have knocked," Rupert said with all the nonchalance in the world.

"Not even the wedding night," Robert tutted.

My brothers gave me the dignity of a second's pause before they started howling.

"What in the world could you want right now?" I demanded, getting up and tugging up my bodice.

"She's in here, gents," Rupert called over his shoulder, his eyes glittering.

"Rupert! A moment's warning!" I cried, further trying to compose myself as the ten ruling heads of the Delegation, Calum included, strode into my chambers.

The Lairds adverted their eyes, their cheeks coloring as they read the scene before them.

"Not a moment to spare, old chum," Calum said, laughter bright in his tone. "We have an urgent proposition for you."

I looked at the mantle clock. There were only fifteen minutes until I was due at the great hall. "There isn't the time —"

"If we could promise you that no one but Alex would bid on you, what would you want in return?" Calum said, steaming ahead.

I gripped my friend's upper arms, my fingers digging into his muscles. "You swear it."

"I do." Calum was a vision of intensity. His mouth was firm, black eyes steady. He held me by the elbows. "What would you give us in return?"

The answer came to me without thought, a newborn wish granted a voice. "Let me set you free."

"What are these riddles? What do you mean?" A fat Western Laird shouted.

I cleared my throat and spoke only to Calum. "Grant me an independent Ellesmure."

The room fell silent, but only for a second. Stunned reactions were replaced by grumbling, tutting, and raving about the madness of women. Calum turned his attention from me and glared at his nine companions. They quieted.

I explained myself. "It's what you've been doing already. You kept my family out of the Delegation by spite. Make it official, write the MacLeod's out of the Charter."

"Eilean, what you're suggesting... we have to think this through," Ian said, stepping forward.

I shook my head, dismissing his patronizing approach. "I have thought this through. Ellesmure is too large. In population and wealth... We skew the influence compared to the interests of the rest of the islands. Let us be neutral. Name me Laird and with the same stroke of the pen, remove us from the Confederation. Do it, and you will have a peaceful ally for life."

"How can we trust you? You'll invade us the moment we set you free!" One Laird moaned.

I turned, addressing the Delegation. "The only thing I want is to serve my people. To give the inhabitants of Ellesmure a good life. Allow me to do that and I will let no harm befall you. I can promise you that any document we draw up for our governance will stipulate that armies cannot be raised except in self-defense."

"You do not fear retaliation or attack from the other islands?" Calum asked, bemused. I knew him well enough to know he was already on my side. There was a spark of delight in the way his lips tugged sideways.

I had to fight my desire to laugh or roll my eyes. "Any attack on us would be foolish. Not only would you be challenging the largest, most populated island; but you would stand in opposition to The Fist, too. My future husband, remember, is their heir."

"For now," Alex said with a disinterested shrug.

"She speaks of peace but already boasts of foreign allyships!"

"All the MacLeods want is greed and blood!"

"We can't allow her to assume ownership of more than half of the map!"

The protests were loud and outraged.

"What about your brothers? Do you feel no shame robbing them of their birthright?"

I looked to where my brothers huddled on the other side of the room. They were untroubled. Sharing glances between them, John eventually stepped forward. "We won't stand in her way, and none of us want to see battle ever again."

I had to duck my head to cover my reaction to his words.

Giving me a moment to recover, Alex stepped in. "My succession is to be determined, but I hope to be Eilean's husband first and foremost. Steward of Ellesmure and servant to its people. Standing or not she will be my bride. What remains to be seen, gentlemen is if you would rather leave a competent ruler on the Laird's seat or a disastrous one."

The most vocal of the Lairds asked Alex, "So Malcolm is truly gone, then? The rumors are true?"

Walther cleared his throat, "Father spends most of his days lost to his delusions. There are moments of clarity, there is no doubt he is unwell."

"Alan McNeill thinks he can help, but I doubt we'll ever see the Malcolm MacLeod you knew in the war ever again," Ian confirmed.

The Delegation studied me for a long while, sizing me up with deeply etched frowns.

"This is more than we bargained for, Laird Grant," one said to Calum. "We'll have to discuss it in depth."

"Of course you will," I sighed. If they could argue smaller issues over days, I grieved to wonder how long this might take.

The Eastern Laird inclined his head. "As a gesture of our goodwill, dear Lady, know that you will face no challenges in the Standing. I believe Calum told you that Standings have quite fallen out of fashion across the rest of the islands. We will do what we can to quiet any would-be bidders."

His promise touched me, and I thanked them all.

Bess stuck her head in the door, eyes wide. "Good gracious, what is all this? The Standing happens in the hall, lass, not in your bed chamber!"

I looked at the clock again, realizing our time was up. Bess wrapped her fingers around my wrist and pulled me from the room. "Your mother will have my head if you're late!"

To that, I laughed and dug my heels into the stone floor, slowing our pace.

"I'll have her head first, Bess. Mark my words."

"You give me ulcers, you know," Bess tutted.

If only she knew what I had just done.