Read Online Brenda Joyce by A Rose in the Storm - Free Book Online

to watch her open it and admit their conqueror.
    Margaret was using all of her strength to appear calm and dignified—and unafraid.
    “Ye may not be able to draw the bolts back by yerself,” Malcolm said.
    Good, she thought. For she wished for Sir Neil to be long gone by the time she let the damned Wolf in.
    Margaret strained to pull one bolt back. In the end, she could not manage, and Malcolm had to help her. Then they went to the winch, which she would never be able to move. They exchanged glances. Margaret pulled on the lever with all of her weight. When it did not move, she tried for a few more minutes, until she had no choice but to signal her few remaining men. They leapt forward, and slowly, the great bridge began to come down.
    Margaret stepped back from the tower with Malcolm, her hands at her sides, fists clenched. The courtyard remained eerily silent, except for the groaning of the bridge as it was lowered.
    She heard his horse’s hooves first. Then the gray steed appeared, the Wolf astride, his face hard, a dozen Highland knights behind him. The sound of their chargers echoed, and it was deafening.
    He crossed the bridge and emerged from the entry tower. He halted the charger before her, leaping from it and striding over to her.
    Margaret did not move as he approached, their stares locking. How she hoped to appear brave and defiant—yet how frightened she actually was.
    He looked exactly as she had imagined the Wolf of Lochaber to be—he appeared a mighty, indomitable warrior—a legend among men.
    There was hostility burning in his blue eyes, and it was chilling. His gaze skimmed over her, from head to toe, and then he held out his hand.
    She reached down to her girdle. Her hand trembled. She could not still it so she ignored the obvious sign of her agitation. She detached and then handed him the castle’s great key ring. As she did, their gazes met again, and this time, they held.
    “All of Scotland will speak of this day.”
    She squared her shoulders, instantly furious. For the first time in its history, Castle Fyne had fallen. For the first time in a hundred years, it was no longer a MacDougall stronghold.
    “All of Scotland will speak of the Lady of Fyne and the Wolf of Lochaber and the battle waged betwixt them,” he said.
    She trembled. What was he trying to say?
    His gaze never moved from her face. “Few men would dare to fight me. The bards will sing of your courage, Lady Margaret.” And grimly, he inclined his head.
    Was he showing her respect? She was incredulous. “I have no care for what you think,” she said, hoping she did not spit the words out. “But I have a great care for the men, women and children here—and the wounded, who need immediate attention.”
    His gaze narrowed as he studied her. “Yer hatred shows.” Then, “Come with me.” His black-and-blue plaid swinging about his shoulders, he started across the courtyard. The crowd remained silent.
    Margaret hesitated, even though the command had been sharply uttered. Then she saw several women bow to him as he passed. He nodded curtly at them.
    Margaret realized she must wage a careful game now, to gain his mercy. She hated him, but she must hide it. She walked after him, slowly.
    He was already within the great hall, flinging off his plaid. Peg and two other women were hovering nervously there. Fires were burning. “I am hungry,” he said, pacing. “As are my men. Bring food and wine.”
    Margaret stood very still, having just entered the hall, as a dozen huge Highlanders came inside. Alexander turned to several of them. “Remove all prisoners to the dungeons, including the wounded,” he said.
    “Aye,” Padraig, the messenger, said.
    “And inspect every room. Make certain no one is in hiding, and that no weapons are hidden, to be used against us.”
    Margaret wished she had thought to hide some weapons to use against him. Padraig and four other Highlanders left.
    Then she saw that he had turned his attention to