Gwenyth stiffened, her heated gaze accusing as she pulled away and turned on Adam. "You told him."

He nodded.

"Aye, your husband has told me of your trials, my lady," Daron said.

She faced Daron, hands on hips. "What's done is done. I only want to leave this wretched place."

Apparently she still saw Daron as her rescuer, despite the fact Adam had clearly told her she and her cousin would not be departing. Adam cleared his throat. "Perhaps it would be best if I allowed you and your cousin to speak privately."

"Aye, perhaps you should, Laird Mackintosh." Her voice was a whisper, but that did nothing to take away the sting of her dismissal. He hardened his hearta"she could not leave Moy or Scotland, and he dared not allow his misplaced feelings for her any room to grow.

He turned away, but Daron stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Adam winced but did not turn around.

"Stay, my laird." Daron turned Adam around, and their gazes met and held. "There is more you should know."

THE APPARENT ACCORD between the two men surprised Gwenyth, but Daron's next words surprised her even more. "Your husband seems to care for you."

He cared for her? She shook off the warmth that thought brought. Of course he cared, which was one of the reasons she and Daron had to leave. Today. She must make it clear that she was well and strong and ready to go forward. "My husband?"

"Mackintosh says you are wed."

"We are handfast, but I don't consider the tie binding and neither does he." She glared in Adam's direction.

Daron answered. "Gwenyth, we cannot find pa.s.sagea"by now the word is spreading of your whereabouts, and the secrecy of our movements is gone. I doubt we could find a ship's captain willing to transport you. And the risk in attempting it is too great."

"Surely King Robert doesn't hate me so much?" But she knew better. The devastation of her home and family were more than adequate testament to Bruce's animosity toward the Comyn clan. A sense of doom crept over her.

"Perhaps not. But he has placed a ransom on your head, and his followers may well be tempted to collect it."

With his face in profile to her, Daron's wound became visible. She touched it and he winced. "Oh, Daron. You were hurt."

He pushed her hand away. " 'Twas nothing, Gwenyth. I am quite recovered."

Obviously, he didn't want to talk about it. She had seen the look that pa.s.sed between Daron and Adam, and she feared it did not bode well for her plans.

Laying her hand on Daron's arm, she attempted to move toward his men, who were entering the keep behind them. "I want to leave this accursed place, Daron. Now."

"You will remain with your husband."

"Nay." She fought to hold her emotions in check. And much was at stake. Edward and safety. A home in England, safe from Robert the Bruce. Daron didn't answer, his demeanor stubborn, and she called on the last of her patience. "You are sworn to me, Daron. Why will you not obey my wishes?"

"I cannot put you in further jeopardy, my lady." Clearly it pained him to deny her, yet deny her he did. "And a husband's right supersedes my own oath to you." Setting his gaze on Adam, he motioned him to join them.

"Nay," she cried.

"Aye, Gwenyth." Daron's voice held the sharpness of command, one he had never used on her before. He was barely a year older, and until now had always treated her more as a friend than as a responsibility. But it would seem their roles had changed.

Ignoring her, Daron addressed Adam. "You are her husband. As her sworn man, I offer myself to your service." Daron stared at her before continuing. "I have learned that you are to marry John Balliol's heir to strengthen his claim to the crown. Is this true?"

Defiantly, she answered, "Aye."

A glance pa.s.sed between the two men, and again Gwenyth feared what it meant.

Adam spoke, his voice harsh. "You know that I can't allow that, my lady."

"Nor will I, Gwenyth."

Daron's agreement surprised and angered her. "Why did you tell him this? Why, Daron? You are sworn to me."

"Edward Balliol would use you with no thought to anything but his own purpose. You won't be safe with him, Gwenyth."

"Come, Daron. You exaggerate. Your lady mother a.s.sured me in her last letter that I will be welcomed at court."

"And married off," he said, voice rising with heat, "and bred with an heir to the Scottish crown just as quick as can be arranged."

In desperation she shouted back. "Isn't that what we want, Daron? To bring down Bruce?"

Daron huffed a breath before replying. "What I want, my lady, is your health and happiness. And Scotland's freedom."

"Scotland. The country whose king has taken everything from us. You would betray me, betray our rightful kinga""

"You don't believe in Balliol's ability to take back the throne any more than I do. And to support his plot to overthrow Bruce will only increase the likelihood of more war, and death and destruction. I have seen far too much of it. Is that the legacy you wish to leave?"

She was suddenly too aware of the highland warrior standing there listening to this conversation. He would not take kindly to discussions of intrigue to regain the crown of Scotland.

As if to seal her doom, Adam said, "On this your cousin and I are in agreement. This is no game we are playing now. I'll have no more lies, woman." Pointing to her hand, he argued, "You willingly donned that ring, insisted on wearing it as a sign of your loyalty to me. 'Tis time to give what you so pledged or bring the wrath of Bruce down on all of us."

Gwenyth felt her shoulders slump. She realized in her heart that Daron and Adam spoke the truth. Her dreams of peace and safety with Edward were nothing but illusions. Illusions born of desperation when her home and loved ones had been destroyed.

Still she clung to them, for they had sustained her, had continued to do so through the ordeal of the past weeks at Moy.

Adam lifted her chin with his fingers, and the tenderness in his eyes nearly undid her. They were on opposite sides, yet he put his anger aside to concern himself with her well-being. Some of the fight went out of her, as it always did when confronted with his generous nature.

She shrugged away his offer of comfort and turned to Daron. Perhaps he would listen to reason.

But Daron didn't give her a chance to speak. "Look what has already befallen you. The next time it could be death or imprisonment."

"You are safe at Moy," Adam promised.

"Aye, it's a pleasant enough prison," she retorted. "So long as you remain laird."

ADAM'S STOMACH CHURNED. The only way this plot to have Gwenyth mingle her royal blood with that of Balliol could succeed was if Robert the Bruce were dead. Adam must hold Gwenyth at Moy, and Daron must be persuaded to swear his loyalty to Bruce.

Daron looked at Adam. "Mayhap we can be of service to one another, Laird Mackintosh."

"Indeed."

Daron indicated Adam's injured arm. "I've heard there is resistance to your leadership?"

"Some."

"Then additional warriors could be useful."

Adam tipped his head to one side. Perhaps Daron wouldn't require persuasion after all. "What do you suggest?"

"I will pledge my sword arm to your fight, my laird."

Gwenyth sputtered, "What of your pledge to me?"

"By serving your husband, I also serve you."

"You would serve me better by doing what I ask of you. This marriage is only temporary. What will you do at its conclusion?"

Although it pained him to bind himself to a woman who didn't love him, Adam knew what must be done. "We will stand before a priest. You will not sail for England and betray my king. Not today. Not ever, as long as I have the means to stop it."

"You would force me to wed." Her voice sounded wooden, and all trace of animation left her face.

Adam took her limp hand. "Aye, for my only other choice is to send you to Bruce for imprisonment or worse. You once saved mea" now it's my turn. We will wed, but I'll do naught else against your will." He lifted her chin until their gazes met. "You have my word."

Even as he said it and meant it, Adam knew he was marrying a woman who would reject him in the most fundamental way of a husband. But he would protect his king, no matter if he and Gwenyth never shared the intimacies of marriage.

Aye, he'd marry her, and then guard his heart like a miser shielded his gold from view.

Then he remembered her response as they'd lain sunning on the rock, and the growing accord between them. She had enjoyed his touch then, and somehow, he would teach her to do so again. G.o.d willing. He smiled, and she withdrew her hand.

For now there were other matters to be dealt with. And until she had time to resolve her anger with him and Daron, thoughts of lying next to her and sharing kisses would have to wait.

"What are you going to do?" she asked Daron, her voice devoid of emotion.

Adam hated to see the look of despair revealed upon her features.

Daron backed away and brushed a hand through his burnished hair. "I am going to see that your honor is avenged."

"I don't want revenge for that, but for my father's death."

At her look of pain and disappointment, his voice softened. "Tell me, do you trust Mackintosh? Is he a man of his word?"

Adam stiffened, caring more than he wanted to admit that she might still trust him.

"Aye." The single syllable sounded very begrudging, but Adam relaxed. Trust was a good place to start a marriage.

"Then marry him truly, stay with him where I can be certain of your well-being. Do this for me, for I cannot bear the thought of what you've already suffered."

His voice cracked, and Gwenyth's face was stricken as if only now did she realize that her valiant cousin had suffered his own h.e.l.l these past weeks.

"You ask much of me."

"If I thought Mackintosh would harm you, I wouldn't ask." Daron pulled her forward. He placed her hand in Adam's.

DARON'S ACTION showed her more clearly than words that his need for revenge, his need to make up for failing to protect her, his unreasonable love for Scotland, were more important than her desire for safe haven and departure.

Blast men and their wretched pride.

Now she would be forced to a binding marriagea"would they try to compel her to swear loyalty to Bruce as well? She would not. Never.

Gwenyth hated the tears she couldn't hold back, her weakness made evident. They must think she wasn't in control of her emotions. Unfortunately that was too true. And along with her emotions, she'd lost all control of her life.

She refused to accept Adam as husband. With his promise of chast.i.ty she had hope, for the union could be annulleda"annulments more often than not had more to do with politics than theology. Then she would find a way to escape Moy. And Scotland.

Aye, that was what she wanted above all else.

Wasn't it?

SIXTEEN.

ADAM FOUND HIS MOTHER in Angus's chamber. He pulled two stools beside his father's bed and held one until his mother was seated. Angus looked pale today and more frail than ever. Time was running out. Adam regretted the new turmoil he was about to reveal as he ignored the stool and paced instead.

"What are ye fashing yerself with now, son?" his mother asked.

" 'Tis Gwenyth."

He did not miss the glance shared between his parents.

"What of her?" Angus asked.

Adam tugged at his plaid, suddenly feeling more like a bairn caught filching a sweet than a laird. "I've found her kinsmana"he and his warriors are in the hall."

"Ye've captured them or given sanctuary?" Angus asked.

"Sanctuary."

Neither parent asked why, and Adam was grateful for their trust in his judgment. "Gwenyth Comyn was on her way to England and a marriage with Edward Balliol when Leod captured her."

Eva raised her fingers to her lips. "She would betray our king?"

Angus didn't give him time to answer. "Does King Robert know of this?"

"Aye. He says I must not allow them to leave Moy, especially the woman."

"Will you imprison her?"