Chapter Twenty-Four

Ella hurried down the tower steps toward the great hall.

Where was Cain?

She had watched him return from the south an hour ago, but he had not come up to his chamber where she had waited with Jamie. Her pacing had become too much to bear, and she’d asked Hannah to stay with Jamie while she left the room.

Dressed in a simple blue petticoat and bodice, she stopped in the archway at the bottom of the steps. Her gaze moved about the great hall that had been filled with Sinclairs the day before. A few tankards and platters sat on the long table that had been moved back into its usual place. Garlands of wilted summer flowers still lay draped around the two iron chandeliers and across the mantel of the cold hearth.

Gideon was the only soul in the room. He had turned cold toward her after his trip to Edinburgh, but she didn’t blame him. She exhaled, her brows lowered, and walked in. Gideon turned from some parchments he was staring down at on the table. His normally superior smile had vanished, and he studied her as she approached. “Lady Ella,” he said, nodding. “Good day.”

She returned the gesture. “Have you seen Cain? I have not spoken to him since we arrived last eve.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he moved closer, his gaze shifting along her face. He tilted his head. “Aye. We returned not too long ago from Dunrobin.”

Her breath hitched, and she forced a deep inhale. “For what reason?”

“To summon Ethan Sutherland and his warriors out to the moor between our lands when the sun is high.”

She swallowed hard. “And what will happen there?”

Gideon crossed his arms. He was as large as his brothers but seemed to keep himself more contained. “That is up to your people. They can witness the union of our two clans as ye and Cain speak vows of marriage before Pastor John, with ye surrendering control of Dunrobin and the Sutherland Clan to our leadership or…” He met her gaze without blinking. “If they do not come to the moor, we will ride on to lay siege to Dunrobin and declare war upon Sutherland Clan.”

Cain had said that was his plan from the start. He was born and raised to conquer lands and people, and he’d never hidden that fact or apologized for it. But she had hoped…

His brother seemed to wait for her to say something. She wet her dry lips, her head held level, and her voice came strong. “Jamie should take his rightful place as chief of Sutherland Clan, the way my mother wished.”

Gideon frowned deeply as if the statement irked him. “He is an untried boy. Cain would never put part of his holdings into the hands of a child.”

“I could stand as regent at Dunrobin and guide Jamie until he comes of age.”

Gideon smiled as if instructing a child. “I may not know exactly what is going on inside my brother’s head, but I do know for certain that he is not going to let ye escape him to go live at Dunrobin.” His eyes narrowed. “It is like ye hold an enchantment over him.”

Ella crossed her own arms, her hands sitting loosely at her elbows. Although his words made her sound like Cain’s prisoner still, the truth that she had come to as she had been dragged away from Girnigoe was that she truly wanted to be by Cain’s side, Sinclair or not.

“If I could enchant people, I would see Jamie as head of Clan Sutherland,” she said, dropping her arms. Her heart heavy, she turned to walk the length of the hall to the entryway, her fingers catching a long garland of wilted cornflowers that had broken to dangle down the wall. Holding it, she kept walking out the massive doors of the keep, looking across the inner bailey.

Sinclairs strode with intent, in and out of buildings, accomplishing their individual missions. Only a few wore bandages from the early morning battle at Varrich. Her gaze landed on Kenneth as he walked out of one of the barracks inside Girnigoe’s inner wall.

Exhaling, she ran to him. “Kenneth! You are well?” she asked. He’d even retained his spectacles.

He pulled her into a hug. Through her often-lonely life, Kenneth had been one of the only people who gave instead of trying to take something from her. Even Cain wants something from me. Everything from me.

“I am well,” he said and kissed her forehead. His gaze dropped to the line at her throat, and his smile turned into a grim frown.

“It will heal,” she said. “And Jamie is well. Rested, clean, and fed.” She shook her head slightly. “I am so sorry that they found out about Jamie. Gideon went to King James weeks ago. I did not know, or I would have gotten word to you.”

He shook his head, his hands warm on her shoulders. “I am the one to apologize, Ella.” He lowered his voice as he glanced past her. “I should not have sent the poison without talking with ye about it first. If Cain had been convinced that ye wished to kill him, he may not have gone to Varrich to save ye.” Pain sat heavily in his eyes. “I have wanted only to protect ye, and I almost cost ye your life yesterday.”

Tears pressed hard against the backs of her eyes. “We have survived. Thank you for all you have done to keep me and Jamie safe. Even if I failed to keep my oath to my mother to protect Jamie, you did not. Thank you.”

Kenneth’s brows bent inward, and he gave a small shake of his head. He squeezed her hands in his. “Ye did not fail your mother.”

She stared into his kind gray eyes.

“Ella,” Kenneth started and stopped. “Your mother did not make ye promise to keep Jamie a secret to protect the lad. Keeping him a secret was to protect ye.”

“I…” She shook her head. “I do not understand.”

“Mary Sutherland…” he started, and she saw the shine of unshed tears behind his spectacles. He looked upward toward the heavens. “I loved her,” he said, his voice dropping into a whisper. “Such kindness and beauty.” His gaze lowered back to Ella. “And she loved me. I tried to protect her from Alec as much as I could without making him suspicious, but that became harder once she…became with child. My child.”

Ella’s heart began to beat faster. Kenneth’s eyes softened, his lips tightening for a moment. “We celebrated in secret when our beautiful daughter came into this world, even as Alec raged that ye were not a son. And as ye grew, looking not like either he or Mary, his suspicions grew.”

Ella’s lips parted as she stood rooted to the dirt. Men and horses and the rest of the world sat at her back, but it all faded to nothingness as she stared at the man who had helped raise her, the man who had wiped her tears, picked her up off the ground, taught her to shoot a bow and throw a dagger.

Ye cannot escape me. Ye are mine. Alec Sutherland’s furious words pressed through her mind. “He—” She drew in a thin breath. “He branded me to mark me as his because he was not sure.”

Color drained from Kenneth’s face, his strength seeming to fall away. He leaned back against the wall as if it was what held his large frame up. Ella grabbed his hands. “But you helped me heal from it, you and Florie.”

Kenneth’s words came faster then, as if once started he couldn’t stop until all was spoken. “Alec started searching for your true father, Ella. He pressured Mary continuously, stopping only each time she was with child so as not to cause her to lose it. When Jamie was born alive, Mary knew she was dying. She also knew if Alec had his legitimate son, he would have absolutely no need for a daughter who may or may not be his.”

“He would have…killed me?” She dropped his hands as memories came back to her. How Alec Sutherland hid her away much of the time. How he wanted to use her only to marry away as if she were a commodity to be sold. How he would stare at her as if doing so would give him some answers to questions she knew nothing about.

“Mary knew she would not be there to protect ye. I could have secreted ye away, but where could I take ye where Alec Sutherland could not reach? And then I would not be at Dunrobin to protect Jamie until he could become the Sutherland chief.” He rubbed his hands down his face. “I agreed to every promise Mary asked. Especially the one to keep ye as safe as I could, which meant keeping Jamie a secret.”

“Is Jamie your son?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nay. He is the true son of Alec Sutherland, the only child of his to survive.”

Ella’s gaze had dropped to her hands clasped in her skirts, but she raised it back to Kenneth. “You…are my father.”

“I would have told ye when Alec died, but for the clan to accept ye as the new chief, they also needed to think ye had his blood running through your veins. I didn’t want to risk it.” His words came rapid and soft, as if he’d run out of breath from all his revelations. He took a full inhale. “Aye, Ella, ye are a child from the love your mother and I shared.”

The bubble of tightness in her chest seemed to burst. With a little hitch of breath, Ella threw herself into Kenneth’s arms.

…

Cain walked from the barn where he had left Seraph to be washed and fed, alerting the men to tell the others that those not still at Varrich would ride with him at noon to the moor between Dunrobin and Girnigoe.

Contested for decades, it was the battlefield where many on both sides had died. The memory of blood soaking the dirt and the lifeless bodies crushing the tall grasses would hopefully help the Sutherlands remember what was at stake. If they come.

As he rounded the inner wall, walking under the spikes of the raised portcullis, he stopped. The blue of Ella’s dress caught his eye, and he watched her hugging Kenneth in the corner of the bailey. Was she afraid, her courage finally leaving her with the thought of her clan being conquered?

His chest tightened, but then she backed up, and he saw a smile on her face. She wiped a finger under an eye to catch a tear, but the smile contradicted it. Had she feared that Cain would have executed Kenneth Macleod?

Gideon stopped beside him, following his gaze. “Da would have executed him or at least left him to rot in the dungeon.”

“I am not Da,” Cain said, turning to walk the opposite way along the wall. He had no words to give Ella yet. For that matter, he had no words for his brother, either.

Gideon fell in step as they circumvented the bailey and trod across the wooden drawbridge. “I have drawn up both the marriage papers and the surrender of Dunrobin and Sutherland lands,” Gideon said. “In truth, Ella could sign both and be done with it here if ye do not want to bring her out on the field. She is still the current chief of Sutherland Clan. If ye want, we can have her brother also sign the surrender. Macleod says the boy can write.”

Cain’s jawline hardened as he frowned, his gaze before him. “I would have her clan see her sign and that she and her brother are unharmed.” He saw a bird fly up from a tree growing alongside the wall and watched it climb higher into the gray sky. “I would have Ella take her vows before them, so they know that it is what she wants.”

Was it what she wanted? To marry him? He had told her that there were only two choices and that he had taken away her choice to die.

Hands fisted at his sides, Cain glanced at Gideon. Always the brother with level-headed answers, he stared at him. “She will take the vows with me?”

Gideon’s brows rose. “Joshua says that she has lain with ye, more than once. Tell her that no other man would have her.”

Anger, already ignited by the incessant questions tangling his thoughts, grew rapidly with every word from his brother’s mouth. Cain stopped, centering his fierce gaze on Gideon. “I will not let any other man touch her.” It was all he could do not to punch him. Why the bloody hell was he talking to him anyway?

Gideon spied Cain’s fist and met the challenge in his eyes. “Well, tell her that, too. She might be flattered by it.”

Why had he ever thought that Gideon knew anything about women?

Cain whirled away from him, but Gideon stopped him with a hand on his arm. Cain almost slammed his fist into him, but his brother stepped away when Cain turned back with murder in his eyes.

Gideon sighed. “Cain…I am only looking out for our clan and for ye. Ye have seemed…distracted.” Gideon clenched his fists as if preparing to defend himself. “And Joshua worries ye might not go to war against the Sutherlands because ye have…” He unclenched one hand, lifting and flipping it as if trying to find the right word. “Because ye have grown soft for Ella.”

Cain walked straight up to him and pressed his closed fist hard against Gideon’s chest. “Joshua can fok off, and so can ye. If either of ye think that I am not the chief of the Sinclairs, feel free to draw your swords.”

“Neither of us are saying that, Cain. We were all raised knowing ye would lead our clan to victory, making us and Scotland strong. With our armies growing, ye could even be king someday. Joshua, Bàs, and I would see it done, putting ye on James’s throne.

“Today is another step forward in making Clan Sinclair the strongest in the land.” Gideon smiled, which was at odds with the worry in his eyes, and backed up so that Cain dropped his fist. “Ye win every game ye play, brother. Ye could win all of Scotland.”

Cain stared at him, his hand sliding up to his sash that hid the queen that Ella had carved. He won every game. Aye, he could just take it all. Call checkmate and put a bloody crown on his head.

He looked at Gideon. “Whatever the Sutherlands decide today, I want Ella, Jamie, and Kenneth Macleod to be kept safe.”

Gideon frowned. “He sent her poison to use.”

Cain met his gaze with unbending strength. “He protected Ella against Alec Sutherland all those years, and he sought the only way he could protect Ella while she was in my grasp. He deserves to live.” Before Gideon could argue, Cain turned on his heel. “If ye follow me, ye will find yourself in a lot of pain,” he yelled back and strode along the wall of Girnigoe, his strides eating up the ground as his fists swung at his sides. His thoughts spun around and around as if all the pieces on the chessboard had been scattered.

When he looked up, he realized he’d entered the castle’s corridor and stood before the small chapel that his father had erected for Cain’s mother. He walked inside the vaulted room, the stained-glass images looking down on him. Behind the altar was the image of the four horsemen, Cain and his brothers riding down from Heaven on their steeds.

Your duty is to conquer. Sinclairs above all else. You are God’s servant, his weapon against all those who are weak. His father’s last words echoed in his brain as if his ghost had risen up to support Gideon’s damning words.

Ye are ready to rule together; first my kingdom and then all of Scotland.

Cain looked at the pictures of angels, their watery eyes seeming to mock him. Did God want him to be a weapon against the weak, rolling across Scotland in a tempest of slaughter? He sneered at the watching angels. “What do ye want from me?” he yelled, but only silence answered.

He grasped his mouth, sliding his hand down his chin as if he could slide his skin from his skull. “Ella,” he whispered in the room stuffed with silence as if all the saints and images were judging him. “Ella.” He wanted Ella.

He exhaled, seeing her face in his mind, the contentedness of her smile as she looked back at him when they rode home from Loch Hempriggs. The mischievous spark to her voice as she laughed while they galloped across the moor. The depth of her beautiful gray eyes as she stared into his, seeing him, really seeing him, not the conqueror, not the chief of the mighty Sinclairs. Just Cain.

He could bind her to him forever, never let her go. Like his falcon, she could have a bit of freedom but always come back to him.

“Nay,” he said, his voice echoing off the smooth granite. She was not a pet. Ella was a woman, a clever, beautiful, passionate woman. To tame her would be to crush her spirit. He would be no better than her father. Cain would not brand her with fiery iron, but he would brand her with his name.

“I cannot lose her.” He looked up at the image of the horsemen. In the past, the image had always helped him focus, but not now. Now it only fanned the rage leaping wildly inside him. Free her.

“Nay!” he yelled, his voice a ferocious growl to crush the silence in the room. “I will not!” So much fury welled up inside Cain that he strode to the altar, hefting up one of the marble horses, the one with a rider wearing a crown. Pulling back, he hurled it at the four horsemen. It shattered through the stained-glass image, exploding it, shards and pieces of soldered metal crashing down over the white tablecloths below.

The door swung inward, and Cain spun around, his sword singing as it slid free. Seething, he breathed heavily, welcoming anyone who might want to fight.

His aunt, Merida, stood there, her sharp gaze taking in the empty room and broken glass below the huge jagged hole, finally stopping on Cain. She tipped her head, her face calm. “I thought perhaps your da had come back to life to rage at the heavens for not welcoming him there.” Her brow rose in question.

Cain sucked in air through his nose like a demonic horse bent on violence. Slowly he lowered his sword. “I am the bloody first horseman. And…” He took a deep breath. “I do not want to conquer.” He exhaled long, the admission rolling from him like a boulder he had carried…since he was nine years old.

Merida planted hands on her hips. “Yes, ye do. Ye always like to win. It is part of who ye are.”

He shook his head. “Some things…cannot be won.”

Her lips pinched inward for a moment before she relaxed them, and she folded her hands to lay in front of her skirt. “Winning is not always taking, Cain.” She looked hard at him, scrunching her nose. “Take, take, take. There is a difference between that and winning.”

He stretched his hands behind his head. “Taking the prize is what it has always been about.”

She smiled, but her eyes looked sad. “Your da would be proud of ye. Taking over the clan he despised, taking the daughter of his sworn enemy and the power away from his only son. Aye, my brother would toast ye with the finest whisky for taking all the prizes.”

He stared at her, and she finally walked down the short aisle. “What have ye to gain by taking today?”

He turned to look at the shattered glass. “A clan, a castle, hundreds of horses, warriors, and…a wife.”

She stopped in front of him to lean against the granite altar, making some of the shards clink on the stone floor. “Ye already have all those things…except a wife.”

“But by bringing the Sutherlands under the Sinclairs, we will be the strongest clan in the Highlands.”

She leaned closer, her words intense as she met his gaze with hard eyes. “Sinclairs are already the strongest clan in the Highlands.”

“Then what would ye have me do? I am the first of the horsemen.”

Merida smiled. “First of all, it is not the end of days, as far as I know. God does not need ye to ride down slicing through everyone yet.” She slashed her arm as if she wielded a sword. “My brother thought it was the end of days after your mother died.” She lowered her arm, shaking her head. “But it was not. And if ye read anything of the Bible besides the bloody end, ye would see that the plan is all about love, which has absolutely nothing to do with conquering.”

Love? “I do not understand.”

Her smile remained, and she closed her eyes, opening them again with a shake of her head. “No, ye do not, but I was rather hoping that ye were learning about it.”

After a moment of silence between them, Merida crossed her arms. “I may not have found a love in this world, but I have been alive long enough to have seen it.” She swatted her hand in the air. “Love messes up things, turns logical men and women into fools, changes perfect strategies.” She plopped her hands back in their usual place on her hips, leaning toward him. “And it definitely has nothing to do with taking.” She shook her head. “Conquest is about taking. Love is all about giving.”

She straightened. “Ye must decide if it is worth…well, everything.” After a moment, she tipped her head toward the front of the chapel. “And this mess is going to have to be cleaned up,” she said, arching a brow at him. “After ye come to your senses and talk to Ella.” She turned, her heels crunching on the glass, and walked out of the chapel.

Love? He knew nothing about it. The only time he had witnessed the emotion was when it had crippled his father as he clung to Cain’s mother while she released her last exhale. Gideon and Joshua felt Ella weakened him, but when she smiled at him or looked out at the world by his side, he felt strength like he never had before. Was that love too?

Cain sat down in a pew and bowed his head. How long had it been since he really prayed? Since before his mother died. “What do I do?” he whispered in the hollow silence of the chapel.

When he had seen the stain on Ella’s gown and the knife at her throat, all Cain could think about was her, that he might lose her like his father lost his mother.

Ella made him vulnerable, and yet, as they came together, he felt strong and more importantly, at peace. The frenzy of always having to be right, always having to plan the perfect strategy to win at all costs—it calmed under her touch, under her smile. Contentment was such a foreign feeling for someone raised to never be content with what he had but to always be searching for more to take.

With an exhale, he let his hands slide down his face. Love gives.

“What do I do?” he murmured again, his eyes closed.

Let her go. He looked up at the picture of Christ on the cross as if He or an angel or perhaps his mother had spoken inside his head. Let her go.

His chest clenched at the horrendous thought as if his heart might be physically torn away. “Never,” he said, and stood up from the pew to stalk out of the chapel.

…

Ella sat straight on Gilla as the horse walked through the wildflowers bending in the breeze across the moor. The last time she had been there, she had stood on the rise at the far end, ordering Ethan to have his archers fire at George Sinclair, the madman leading the fearsome Sinclairs. And Cain had charged up the hill toward her like a madman himself.

Then she’d kissed him, and she had known she was in jeopardy—not just because his horse would not move under her when she’d jumped on Seraph’s back, but because in that kiss, she had lost herself for a moment. The restrained power in his gentleness had pulled her toward him.

Everything with Cain had been like that. She felt constantly drawn to him but also needing to escape. She had known him only as a coldblooded killer, but after that kiss, after helping him birth a twisted foal, after watching the care he used around Hannah and the respect he had for his aunt, the mercy he’d shown with Kenneth, she realized Cain Sinclair was so much more.

She had not been able to find him before Kenneth said they must ride to meet her clan for the wedding ceremony and surrender. Hannah and Merida rode horses next to Ella, insisting that they wanted to be there for the wedding. Pastor John, seemingly recovered from the ordeal at Varrich, rode one of Cain’s horses, too, Kenneth and Jamie on their mounts beside him. Overhead, a large falcon circled, laces on one talon. Eun. Ella glanced around for Cain.

Turning in her seat, she saw him behind her with his three brothers, all of them riding in a line on their colored horses. Cain had his bow but not the crown. His gaze was centered on her, but his features remained still and serious. Lord, what would today bring? He would take her lands, castle, and her people’s pride, and she would have to return with him before all the Sutherlands.

Her hands fisted around the reins. Would they think her a traitor? Or worse, would they not show up, making Cain and his armies lay siege to Dunrobin?

She turned forward again, her heart thumping in time with Gilla’s quick step. They rode across the empty moor. There were no Sutherland men or horses yet. Holy Mother Mary. She glanced overhead at the glow behind the heavy clouds. The sun was high, and the Sutherlands were nowhere to be seen.

The Sinclair army advanced across the field, surrounding Ella as she rode Gilla. She raised her gaze to the rise where she had ordered the last battle. Her breath caught, and relief tightened through her as she sucked in air. Sutherlands slowly emerged from the forest at the top of the rise.

The Sinclair armies broke into a canter, surging past her, eating up the ground, as the Sutherlands rode down the slope to the base. Hundreds of horses sounded like thunder, vibrating under her, and she pressed Gilla to follow.

“We will stop here,” Kenneth yelled across to her as they watched Ethan Sutherland lead the group out to meet them. Kenneth sat his own horse, and Jamie rode on one of Cain’s white horses next to him. Pride filled Ella as she watched her brother sit so straight, his face full of the strength into which his young body must still grow. At least he would not die. No, Cain would not let harm come to him or to her. Of that she was certain, even if everything else was unclear. Even if she was to rage at him over the wrongness of this day, he would not harm her body. But what of her heart?

Ethan and his loyal warriors came forward, stopping in a line fifty feet away. There were at least one hundred, nearly her whole army, behind them. Ethan nodded to her and Kenneth, his gaze sliding to Jamie. He’d known Jamie only as a maid’s son, never realizing that Kenneth and Ella had been teaching him about archery, battle, and diplomatic strategy.

Ella slid a hand across Gilla’s soft coat, needing the feel of her strong, sweet mare to steady her. Cain, Joshua, and Bàs rode forward toward Ethan and his men, stopping halfway between them. Off to the side, the pastor approached with Gideon, who held rolled parchments under one arm.

When Cain stopped, his voice came loud and booming like thunder. “I, Cain Sinclair, the fifth Earl of Caithness and chief of the mighty Sinclair Clan, call this assembly together to secure a peaceful change of leadership within our clans.”

Ella’s heart beat hard as she watched Ethan’s frown deepen, but he did not say anything, and he did not draw his weapon. What could she do? Ride away and refuse to wed? Without a blood tie to Alec Sutherland, wedding her would not help Cain justify taking over the clan, but with his power he did not need a justification anyway.

Cain continued. “Pastor John will make these proceedings official, our oaths before God.”

Gideon came forward with the rolls of parchment. “Ethan Sutherland, come forward,” Gideon called out. Ella’s head archer and three of his men guided their horses across the narrow chasm to sit directly across from Cain and his brothers.

“Kenneth Macleod and Jamie Sutherland, come forward,” Joshua called out without looking behind him. Both Kenneth and Jamie moved their horses forward.

Ella watched Cain’s back. He wore a white tunic with his plaid wrapped around him, the end slung over his chest. His bow sat tied to the back of Seraph, and a sheathed sword lay strapped to his side. No leather armor, not even his shield, although the armies at his back were completely dressed for war.

“Arabella Sutherland, come forward,” Cain’s voice rang out.

Ella swallowed past the wild thumping of her heart and pressed her heels gently into Gilla’s sides. He would make her wed him. She wanted to be with him, but…the scene was so similar to the one at Varrich that her stomach clenched, and anger straightened her spine. This would be no joyous wedding with smiles and congratulations. This would be a forced surrender.

Ella moved forward, once again without a choice.