Page 4 of A Gentle Feuding


  The sewing room was as good a place to hide as any, since her sisters were still abed and she need not be bothered by them yet. Even though her mar­rying was a certainty, their hostility had not less­ened. Margaret’s was worst, for she blamed Sheena for making her wait so long to marry Gilbert Mac­Guire. And all three of her sisters had always re­sented Sheena’s resembling their father, who was quite handsome. While not overly large, he had a strong build, and his hair was the same deep red as hers, though he was nearly fifty. Only at his temples was there a little dusting of white. His eyes were as clear and as blue as hers.

  Her mother had, in fact, been rather plain, and her sisters all resembled their mother. Elspeth did have their father’s blue eyes and a slight tinge of red in her brown hair, but Margaret and Fiona had their mother’s lackluster pale blue eyes and plain brown hair. Sheena had often wished she looked more like her sisters. Being called a beauty could be a cursed nuisance.

  The rift between Sheena and her sisters was deep and very close to hatred. It didn’t bother Sheena terribly, however. She had never been close to them. As the firstborn, she had learned skills at her father’s side that he would not have taught her if Niall had been born sooner. Dugald had taken her fishing and hunting. When Sheena was five, after Fiona was born and Dugald had despaired of having a son, she got her first pony. Her interests did not include her prissy sisters, who flocked about their mother. The breach between them widened as the years passed.

  Sheena still could not blame her father for the pain he was putting her through now. The clan came first. She understood that.

  She was also in the sewing room because it was the last place William MacAfee would look for her. She still didn’t know exactly what it was about William that she so disliked. He had a decidedly mean look about him, a subtle cruelty in his face that she had noticed even as a child.

  His interest in her had started when she was only twelve. He was always pulling her aside to talk to her, scolding her for this or that, interrupting her play with Niall. When she was sixteen he had asked her to marry him. She had been as disgusted and as frightened of him then as she was now.

  William held too much influence over her father, that was certain. And once her father made a decision about something, he was seldom swayed. That had worked against William when Dugald decided Sheena would marry The MacDonough. But Dugald’s mind could be changed if the persuasion was powerful enough. Until she was married to Alasdair MacDonough, hateful though that idea was, she would not be safe from her cousin.

  William and her father were, even now, below in the hall discussing how to contact the MacKinnions to demand the prisoner’s ransom. She hoped Niall was with them, so that he could tell her what they discussed.

  As if her thoughts had summoned him, Niall burst into the room. “So, here you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I never thought to be finding you in here.”

  Sheena grinned. “Well, you have. What are you so excited about?”

  Niall looked at the two servants, and Sheena dismissed them.

  “Well, now, what has you in such a bother?” She patted the chair beside her, but Niall was too agitated to sit.

  “I wasna to tell anyone!” he burst out, his light blue eyes aglow. “But I canna keep it in. I have to tell you, Sheena, but only you.”

  She smiled at his exuberance. Niall could get excited over the smallest thing, and each small thing was of great importance for a while.

  “I’ve been to the dungeon!”

  “When?”

  “Very late last night.”

  Sheena was not amused now. “You know you shouldna have, Niall.”

  “I know, but I couldna help it,” he confessed. “I had to see him.”

  “And did you?”

  “Aye.” Niall grinned now and rushed on. “And you wouldna believe the size of him, Sheena! And he has such a mean look about him. He talked to me like a man—well, most of the time he did.”

  “You talked to him!” she gasped.

  “Aye, I did, and for a long time, too. But that’s no’ what I have to tell you, Sheena. ‘Tis James MacKinnion we have in our dungeon. The MacKinnion, not one of his men, but him! And he’s as bold as they say.”

  Sheena felt cold, and suddenly it was as if she couldn’t breathe. But Niall turned even colder and they both started as, behind them, Margaret Fergusson echoed, “The MacKinnion!” The door hadn’t been shut properly, and Margaret had heard. She ran, then, and Sheena found her voice. “Go after her, Niall! She’s surely gone to tell Father.”

  Niall raced through the doorway, but Margaret was already running down the stairs that led to the hall. He could hear her shouting.

  He turned to Sheena. She had never seen her brother look so miserable. “What am I to do?”

  Her heart ached for him. “Dinna worry, Niall. You were no’ forbidden to go near the dungeon. Father will be angry, but he’ll no’ punish you.”

  “It isna that, Sheena. ‘Tis him! I gave him my word I’d no’ tell about him!”

  She was a touch angry that Niall should worry about breaking his word to a MacKinnion, even the laird himself. “Then you shouldna have told me,” she snapped.

  “But you’re no’ just anyone,” he protested. “You wouldna have told.”

  “Well, but you see what happened?” She loved his devotion to her, but he had to understand.

  “I know.” Niall was near tears. “He’ll hate me for this.”

  “What’s got into you, Niall?” she cried. “You’re a Fergusson. He already hates us all.” She turned away and lowered her voice. “I just wish you’d kept the secret. What William will make of it with Father is what I fear.”

  Niall was doubly miserable. “Should I lie to Father? I can say Margaret was mistaken in what she heard, or I was only jesting.”

  “Nay, you canna lie, for Father will no doubt confront The MacKinnion, and who’s to say he willna admit the truth? Why should he want it kept secret?”

  “He’s ashamed because he was caught.”

  “Och, men and their strange ideas are beyond me. He’ll be released sooner now, so he should be glad. Father wouldna dare keep The MacKinnion.”

  The Fergusson bailie came to the door to tell Niall he was wanted below.

  “You’ll come with me, Sheena?” Niall asked, his eyes pleading.

  “Aye, if you’ll promise no’ to leave William alone with Father after I’m gone. Father will send me from the room when they discuss what to do, but I must know what William suggests. So you must stay.”

  “I’ll stay if they let me.”

  Dugald Fergusson was more upset than Sheena had expected. William’s eyes were drawn to her the moment she walked into the hall. There was a smug look about him that boded ill. Niall was standing be­fore their father.

  “ ‘Tis true then, you were down to the dungeon?” Dugald demanded.

  “Aye.”

  “You know you had no business there?”

  “‘Aye.”

  “Is it true what you told your sister? Have we James MacKinnion himself down there?”

  Niall hesitated a moment too long before an­swering, and Dugald backhanded him. Sheena gasped and moved to Niall’s side, her eyes furious.

  “You didna have to hit him!” she shouted at her father. “‘He’s done naught that was so terrible.”

  “He knew we had James MacKinnion but he didna tell me so.”

  “He would have.”

  “When? After I’d ransomed a man I thought only a crofter? Sweet Mary!” Dugald blustered. “I’ve a son who keeps secrets from me and a daughter who de­fends him!”

  “What secret?” Sheena. snapped. “If you’d gone down and talked to the man yourself, you’d have found out easily enough who he was.”

  Dugald glared at her, but the truth of that was plain. And he was wasting time bickering. Tie fact that he had James MacKinnion in his dungeon turned his blood cold. For all he knew, the MacKin­nions were planning an atta
ck on the tower at that very moment.

  “I’ve got to let him go,” Dugald said wearily. He sounded defeated.

  “Dinna be hasty, now,” William warned. “The man’s been injured by us and shamed. He’ll no’ take kindly to that. He’s probably even now plotting the revenge he’ll have as soon as you release him.”

  “But I canna keep him in the dungeon.”

  “Aye, you can. A few days will no’ hurt, until you devise a means to protect yourself”

  “You have something in mind?”

  “Aye, a way to end the feud for good.”

  Sheena stiffened. “Dinna listen to him, Father! Just let the man go. For his release, make him give his word to end the feud.”

  “The word of a MacKinnion is worthless,” Wil­liam said flatly.

  “You dinna know that!” Sheena turned on him hotly, eyes flashing.

  “Enough blathering,” Dugald interjected angrily. “This doesna concern you, Sheena, so get you gone.”

  “But‑“

  “Go! Your betrothed comes this night to plan the wedding, so prepare yourself.” He waited until she had stalked from the hall before he looked at his son. “Off with you, too, Niall. And so there’ll be no mis­take, if you go near the prisoner again, ‘tis the En­glish court for you!”

  Sheena waited on the stairs for Niall, but the dis­tance was too great for her to hear what William was telling her father. But she knew.

  “God help me, Niall, I dinna know what I’ll do if I’m given to The MacKinnion.”

  “Dinna talk like that,” he scolded.

  “I hate William!” she hissed furiously. “I swear I’d kill him if I didna think I’d burn in hell for it.”

  “You’re worrying ‘afore the fact, Sheena. ‘Tis doubtful Father would listen to Willie this time. You’re already betrothed. ‘Twould mean breaking that and starting a feud with the MacDonoughs.”

  “You think that would matter if a MacKinnion match were possible?”

  Niall frowned. “I know, but you’re still worrying ‘afore you should. There’s naught to say The MacKinnion would accept you. Why should he?”

  “I said the same to William, but he claims any man would want me if he saw me,” she replied miserably. “Och, why do I have to look like this!”

  Niall’s heart sank as he remembered. The MacKinnion had seen Sheena. And he did want her. She was terrified of him, and Niall could not blame her. Only what could he do to help her?

  “He doesna know you’re the one he wants, Sheena,” Niall tried to reassure her.

  Her brow knit in curiosity. “Now what did you mean by that, I’d like to know?”

  “I . . . I mean he hasna seen you yet, so he canna know if he would want you or no’.”

  “Aye, but what if Father shows me to him?”

  “I’ll hide you if I have to, “ Niall said impulsively, reminding Sheena that he was, after all, just a child.

  “I wish you could, Niall, but I’d like to know where a body could hide on the open moor. There’s no crofter would go against their laird to take me in.”

  “I’ll think of something. Dinna fear.”

  For his sake, she smiled. “I’ll hold you to that, little brother. For I swear I’ll no’ wed James MacKinnion. I’d rather die.”

  Chapter 7

  JAMIE shielded his eyes against the sudden light. And then, just as abruptly, a large bundle was pushed through the trapdoor. Bedding? Even a pillow? Jamie frowned. Why would he be getting special treatment? The light disappeared and then returned as a rope ladder slid through the opening. A man started climbing down the ladder. He had two hefty sacks tied to a rope strung behind his neck. He set them down as soon as he reached the floor and turned to face Jamie.

  “Your dinner,” he said, indicating the sacks. “There’s wine, and a candle, and some other things.”

  Jamie kept his face blank. “You treat all your prisoners so lavishly?”

  “I’ll no’ be mincing words with you, lad. I know who you are. We’ve no’ met ‘afore face to face, but I’m Dugald Fergusson.”

  Jamie got to his feet. It was only common courtesy.

  “And who is it I’m supposed to be?” he asked.

  Dugald raised a reddish brow. “You deny you’re James MacKinnion?”

  Jamie sighed. “Nay, I’ll no’ deny it. So where does that leave us, Fergusson?”

  “I dinna like it that you’re here any more than you do. But as it is, I have you, and I would be a fool no’ to benefit from it.”

  “Naturally.” Jamie sighed. “Have you contacted my clan then?”

  “Nay,” Dugald replied with a slight hesitancy. “I’ll no’ deal with them, but with you.”

  “With me? And how is that?”

  “It has been suggested to me that you should marry one of my daughters.”

  Jamie tensed, trying not to look shocked. It was the last thing he’d expected to hear. “And who hates your daughters so, to make such a suggestion?”

  Dugald frowned. He hadn’t thought of that. William had suggested Sheena in particular, not just one of his daughters. Did William, in fact, hate Sheena? It bewildered him to think that. He had been aghast at William’s suggesting Sheena, but not at the idea itself, for it was something he had long considered. William’s thinking was sound.

  “I dinna like your tone, MacKinnion.”

  “And I dinna like your suggestion!” Jamie snapped. “If I ever marry again, and I have no intention of doing so, it certainly wouldna be a Fergusson.”

  “Dinna think I like giving you one of my daughters!” Dugald replied sharply.

  “Then why are we discussing this?” .

  “I want peace, lad.”

  “Do you?” Jamie said dryly. “You should have thought about that ‘afore you began the feud again.”

  Dugald was stunned. “I didna break the peace! You did!”

  Jamie might have laughed if it weren’t so pathetic. He had been right about Dugald Fergusson.

  The man was insane, and no mistake. He would get nowhere arguing with a man addled in his wits.

  He sighed. “If ‘tis peace you really want, I’ll give it to you. You have my word on it.”

  “Och, lad, I wish I could accept your word, truly. But I’d be a fool to trust you.”

  “That leaves you nowhere, then.”

  “Nay, it leaves you here, permanently, unless you accept one of my daughters and agree to trouble us no more.”

  “Old man.” An iciness crept into Jamie’s tone. “You keep me here at great risk, you know.”

  “I’m no’ so sure. I dinna think we’ll be attacked if attack would put your life in danger.”

  Jamie nearly exploded. “You threaten my life, and my men will tear your tower down stone by stone.”

  “Then you’ll die!” Dugald shouted, just as angry. This was not going the way William had said it would. Yet he was committed to this plan, this way of getting a treaty.

  “You’ll change your mind when you’re here long enough,” Dugald said, not all that confidently, however.

  The words made Jamie seethe. The man would not tell his clan that he was here. He tried a different tactic.

  “Very well, Fergusson. I’ll marry one of your daughters, if you’ll agree to my terms.”

  Dugald was surprised, and leery. “You’re no’ in a position to demand terms.”

  “Then we’ve no more to talk about.”

  Dugald glared at him. “What terms? I’ll hear them. I am a reasonable man.”

  “I was married once ‘afore.”

  “Aye, there’s no’ many dinna know that.”

  Jamie shrugged. The tragedy of his marriage was well known, but few knew the truth.

  “I didna know my wife, nor she me, ‘afore the wedding,” Jamie continued coldly. “I’ll no’ go into more of it, for ‘tis something I never talk about. Enough to say . . . the marriage was a mistake.”

  “What has that to do with my daughter?”


  “If I had tried the girl I married ‘afore the wedding, I’d have known she was so frightened of men she couldna bear a man’s touch. I swore I’d never marry again without trying the girl first. Are you willing for me to try all four of your daughters ‘afore I choose one?”

  Dugald had turned bright red even before Jamie was finished. “There will be no trying of my daughters‑nor handfasting, either!” he growled. “And ‘tis only three daughters I’m letting you choose from, no’ four!”

  Jamie’s humor returned and he couldn’t resist baiting Fergusson. “You’ve four daughters, Fergusson, and no’ one wed yet? What is wrong with the one you’re no’ offering me?”

  “She’s betrothed.”

  “You surprise me, old man. You think I dinna know what goes on here? That I’m no’ aware of the three matches you’ve made in the last months, and with which clans? If ‘tis your youngest you’re no’ offering, why no’ say so?”

  “You can have my youngest, though if you’ve any decency, you’ll no’ choose her. She’s too young to wed,” Dugald retorted. “ ‘Tis my oldest you canna have.”

  “Why? Has she a love match?”

  “Nay, she’s the only one who doesna want to marry yet, and if we have peace, she’ll no’ have to.”

  “Ahhh . . . now I ken. She’s your favorite, eh? Too good for the savage MacKinnion?”

  Dugald wouldn’t answer. “When you’re tired of this hole, lad, I’ll let you see my daughters and make a choice.” Jamie’s humor was gone, and his voice was coldly final. “I wasna jesting when I said I must try my wife ‘afore marrying her.”

  “You’ll change your mind after a while in here.”

  Soon Jamie was alone again and doubly furious. To think he had been fretting about facing the jesting of his kin! There had never been the slightest notion that he wouldn’t be released.

  There would be no cause for worry, even now, if only his clan knew he was there. Old Dugald had just been bluffing about that. Faced with an actual attack, he would have no choice but to let Jamie go. But who was to tell his clan he was there?