"She's done nothing but lie since the moment I met her! And what have I done? Played the lovesick fool." He'd been so sure of G.o.d's hand in bringing them together. But had he heard G.o.d's voice or his own desire? Aye, desire could be a siren call that banished years of listening to and obeying G.o.d's word.

"Lovesick? Oh, cousin, tell me you haven't consummated this handfast."

Adam walked on. Visions of Gwenyth splashing in the loch like a child, agreeing to friendship and admitting to a growing attraction a.s.sailed him. Had he been so desperate, so blind, that he'd allowed himself to believe her? To convince himself that G.o.d had chosen her for him?

Disappointment and chagrin gradually replaced his anger. Adam slowed his stride and veered toward the main hall. "You're right, Seamus. I need to sort through this. And no, I haven't touched her."

"But you've wanted to."

In the hall Adam seated himself at a trestle as Seamus took a place across from him. A serving girl brought bread, cheese, and drink, and Adam dismissed her.

Seamus broke off a piece of bread. "You shouldn't have hand-fasted with her."

"I had no choicea"Leod forced it on us. I promised her protection and now I must protect my enemy." He ran his hands through his hair. "Seamus, I need advice. And I can't take this to Da."

Seamus nodded. "All right."

"First, did you speak at length with Bruce?"

"He hadn't much time. But before I left his camp he sent this to me for safekeeping." Seamus reached into the folds of his plaid and removed a letter. He slid it across the table and Adam took it.

Bruce's mark sealed the parchment. "I'll read it later."

Seamus pushed the tray of food to Adam. "What advice do you need other than for me to say you can't keep the woman?"

Adam ignored the food. "I will know more how to handle that situation once I've confronted her."

"What else, then?"

"You are right. First we must think on how Gwenyth's ident.i.ty may affect my dealings with Leod and the clan. I would know what drives him to challenge me."

Seamus broke eye contact and stared at the floor.

"What? No need to couch your words, cousin. If I'm to best him, I must know."

Seamus shifted, then brought his gaze to meet Adam's. "Leod truly believes he is the rightful heir." He paused. "He believes you are physically weak, unable, and unwilling to fight because of your injury. He won't be able to withhold his challenge much longer, not if he learns how well you fought today."

Adam stroked his chin. "He thought I would simply die and all would be his. He must have been furious when I rode into his keep, alive and well."

"Aye. It's G.o.d's own truth that we all thought you as good as dead." Seamus studied a knothole in the trestle. "He didn't aid his cause by accusing you of harming a womana"no one believes it."

"So, even the Macphersons don't hold that against me?"

"They do not." Seamus banged his hand upon the trestle. "But that woman is a different matter, Adam. You need to be rid of her. She isn't fit to be the wife of a chieftain loyal to Bruce."

"Hatred for the Comyns runs deep."

"Distrust and hatred, Adam. John Comyn's treachery toward Bruce doesn't sit well. Leod will certainly use that to his advantage. But it's mostly personal, him against you. He thinks he can best you."

"What do you think he'll do next?"

"He'll weaken your position any way he can and then challenge you to fight."

Adam sipped from his tankard. "I think you're right. He can use the woman's family ties, and I suspect he's behind the increase in cattle raids."

"What raids?" Seamus asked, instantly alert.

"On the border with the Camerons." Adam shifted uncomfortably. "A woman was a.s.saulted as well."

"By the saints, Adam. You've got to stop him."

"I have no proof." And Adam feared if he pressed the woman to name Leod, her life would be endangered.

"Then what shall we do?"

"We, good cousin, must stand united. Not just you and I, but all of Clan Chattan. Together we are a force no one will tangle with. I will convince the council that I'm the man to do that. And you shall be my right arm."

A face-splitting grin creased Seamus's face. "Don't you mean left arm, my laird?"

Adam chuckled and shook his head. Only Seamus would dare to make light of his injury. "Aye, then. My left arm. I will propose you as my warlord, Seamus."

"That isn't necessary. I fought you myself todaya"given time you will fight as well as you ever did."

The compliment pleased Adam. "I will fight well enough, as long as I have a man to cover for me. But you will train the men, Seamus."

"As you wish, my laird."

"Good." Now if only the woman were as easy to dispatch. But this news, Gwenyth's deceita"no wonder she'd been so coy yesterday. Rising anger threatened to overcome good sense. He forced his attention back to Seamus. "Once I locate Daron of Ruthven, I can be rid of Gwenyth, and Leod will have one less thing to hold against me."

"But what if this Daron has left the country without her?"

"If she is indeed Gwenyth Comyn, I doubt the man has deserted her. More likely he's wounded or dead."

"She is Gwenyth Comyn, Adam. You must believe it. And you can't afford to wait too long to act."

"She stays until I can guarantee her safe conduct, either with her cousin or by my own hand. On this I will not be moved. I charge you with her safety, Seamus. No matter who she is, I'll not see her come to any more harm."

Seamus stared hard at him. "I will see to it. Just have a care you don't lose Clan Chattan. Leod Macpherson would be a disastrous chief, and we both know it."

"Thank you for the supporta"and the warning. I'll take neither lightly."

Seamus left, but Adam remained at the table, sipping his water, knowing he must confront Gwenyth. He had no doubt that she was indeed Gwenyth Comyn, daughter of the man Robert the Bruce had stabbed to death. Betrayal upon betrayal. When would it end?

The truth was supposed to set one free, according to Christ's own words. Somehow Adam found little comfort in the thought. The pain of Gwenyth's betrayal was far greater than Suisan's, for this time, much as he hated to admit it, his heart was truly engaged. And that was why he needed time to think.

How much was lie? How much truth? And why in the name of all that was holy did he care? If this was indeed the woman G.o.d wanted for him, why was he making it all so difficult?

Not wanting witnesses to what must be said, and aware that delaying the inevitable would solve nothing, Adam instructed a servant to send Lady Gwenyth to him in his solar. Then he retired there to await her.

While he waited for her, he read the letter Seamus had given him from Bruce. And what he read nearly sent Adam to his knees. The promises Gwenyth had alluded to were not promises of love to Daron. Better that they had been. Her promises amounted to treason. Adam's loyalties were on a disastrous collision course.

His enemy. For so she must be so long as she served Balliol. Perhaps he could persuade her to change allegiance. But why would she? For a marriage and a man she didn't want?

Adam held his head in his hands as he sorted through his tangled emotions. He must be sure both his anger and his daft heart were firmly in control before confronting her. His country's future and his king's very life depended on him.

GWENYTH APPROACHED THE SOLAR with trepidation. What would Adam do now that her ident.i.ty was known? Could she find Daron quickly and escape before the full truth was revealed? Steeling herself for what would no doubt be a horrible confrontation, she knocked crisply at the door. A moment of silence answered, as if Adam hesitated to see her. His gruff "Enter" did little to a.s.suage her fears.

She opened the door and found Adam standing at the window, his stiff back to her. After what seemed like half an hour but could only have been a minute, he turned to her, his face void of expression.

Inclining her head, she spoke first. "You sent for me, my laird."

"I did, indeed. But just who are you, lady fair?"

Calmly, she replied, "You know well enough, Adam."

"But I would like to hear you say it."

"I am Gwenyth Comyn."

"Finally, you speak a word of truth." He gave her no time to defend herself. "You hid your hatred well beneath your claims that you wanted no man to touch you. And I made it all worse by practically begging you to tell me you were drawn to me."

His face might not betray him, but she heard pain and confusion in his voice.

"You did not beg, Adam. And I spoke the trutha""

"Lies on top of lies. Have you spoken a single word of truth in all our conversations?"

His distress had quickly turned to anger, and she was glad of it. For anger would be much easier to deal with than paina"pain she had caused. "You will believe what you wish. I told you I had made promises that made it impossible for me to remain here."

"You will not leave Moy, nor will your cousin when I find him."

Gwenyth fought rising panic. "Of course I will. 'Tis what we agreed upon."

His expression hardened. "We agreed that Gwenyth of Buchan, a ladies' maid, was free to leave. But Gwenyth Comyn will not leave Moy."

Gone was the laughing, smiling man who'd frolicked in the loch. In his place stood an implacable highland warrior. One look at him and she knew her cause was doomed. But she would not give in without a fight. "You have no right to hold me against my will. I demand that you allow me to leave as we agreed."

His face darkened, and he gripped his hands into fists. "I have every right to do with you as I will, wife."

" 'Tis but a handfasta"we are not truly bound."

"That can be remedied. I can send for the priest and bind you irrevocably."

Gwenyth felt her face drain of color as she fought panic and denial. "You cannot mean to bind me against my will. And for what end? So that you can hang me at your leisure?"

"To remove the queen that would strengthen any claim Edward has on the crown. If you are my bride instead of Balliol's, Bruce's hold is strengthened." He paused. "I still must consider whether I can stomach a traitor in my keep or whether to collect Bruce's ransom."

"He has placed a ransom on my head?" Gwenyth fought to disguise her despair. Her refuge had now become her prison, for she would much rather take her chances with Adam than with Robert the Bruce.

"Aye. On your pretty head so full of deceit."

ADAM GLARED at this woman who'd captured his heart. She stood before him, head held proudly, her bearing that of a n.o.blewoman. No different than before, only now he saw it ever more clearly and understood why she had seemed more than a servant from the very start.

The king, having learned from Seamus that Adam and Gwenyth were handfasted, gave Adam a choice. Imprison her or marry her. The suggestion that Adam marry her before a priest should have brought him joy. It did not, and he would delay the ceremony as long as he dared. He had much to think through first.

He didn't want to force her to wed, but his choices were fast disappearing. Just as hers had that day in Leod's keep. She had chosen to marry him rather than condemn him to death. Now it was his turn to do the same, for to turn her over to Bruce and imprisonment might very well mean her death.

Hardening his heart against the desire to pull her into his protective embrace, Adam said, "You will be free to move about within the castle walls, Gwenyth. Do not give me reason to confine you further." Ignoring the ache in his heart, he turned his back on her, listening to the rustle of her skirts as she left the room.

When she was gone, he crumpled the letter in his fist and vowed to overturn every rock in Altyre until he found Daron of Ruthven and put an end to Balliol's plan to overthrow King Robert.

DARON COMYN SENT WORD to Moy that he wished to meet with the Mackintosh laird, but not at the castle. A roaring waterfall cascaded over a thirty-foot drop as Adam and his small band of warriors wound their way down a narrow trail beside the tumbling stream. The mist from the falling water settled over him, and he drew his plaid close to ward off the moisture. Already they'd endured a heavy drizzle that threatened to become rain at any minute. The unstable weather echoed Adam's unsettled thoughts as he approached the agreed-upon meeting place.

Bruce hadn't specified what Adam should do with Daron. But Adam's course of action was clear. He must take Daron into custody so that neither he nor Gwenyth could flee to England. Would the man come peacefully or resist? Adam would do all he could to convince the man to come willingly.

With that settled in his mind, Adam called the party to a halt when they reached the edge of the woods that had surrounded them until now.

On a clearer day, Adam would be able to see before him a large, gra.s.sy meadow, protected on all sides by forest. Today, the fog hid the far side of the open area from view, and Adam regretted the lack of visibility. Daron Comyn no doubt stood on his side of the clearing, cursing the weather and wondering, as did Adam, if the other man could be trusted.

Nothing to be done for it. Adam doubted the man would do anything that might put his cousin in harm's way. Indeed, he was counting on the other man's loyalty to her as a means for a peaceful solution. He ordered his men to remain in the shelter of the trees while he rode alone into the clearing.

The fog dampened not only the ground, but sounds as well. As he reached the center of the meadow, visibility improved. He halted his horse, and soon Daron walked toward him.

Adam dismounted and strode to within a sword's length of a young man near Adam's age. But there was nothing young about Daron's eyes. The events of the past months had taken a toll that was evident in the wary, and weary, expression in his eyes. And in the nearly healed wound at his temple.

The lad had been lucky to survive the blow. A puckered scar, awkwardly st.i.tched, ran from eyebrow to ear. His gaunt face and loose-fitting sark gave testimony to a recent convalescence. No doubt Daron and his men suffered from lack of shelter and food, as well.

Yet despite those hardships, Daron had remained until he'd recovered sufficiently to retrieve Gwenyth. The man was nothing if not loyal to his cousin.

As they studied each other, Adam realized that had the tide of battle turned differently, it might be him pet.i.tioning for his loved one's safety, and not Daron Comyn. The thought sobered him.

Breaking the silence, Adam held his empty sword hand in front of him, palm up. "Greeting to you, Daron of Ruthven."

Warily Daron replied, "Good day to you, Laird Mackintosh. Where is my cousin?"

"She waits in my castle."

Daron fingered the hilt of his sword. "You should have brought her with you."

Adam stepped back, careful to keep his hand away from his weapon. "I kept her safe until I could be certain just who was waiting here in the fog. There are those who would harm her."

Daron dropped his hand to his side. "Perhaps I was hasty in my conclusions, sir." He shifted his weight. "Have her brought to me and we'll be gone."

"There has been a change of plans."

Daron shook his head. "You needn't concern yourself, Mackintosh."

Adam heard the derision in Daron's voice, and his own temper raised a notch. He baited the man. "You'd best remember who holds the upper hand. I'd just as soon turn you both over for the ransom." He would not do this, but Daron didn't need to know that. Not yet.