Read Online Keeper of my Heart by Laura Landon - Free Book Online

gaze locked with hers then moved to the lethal sword in the MacAlister’s hand that was pressed at her throat.
    Kenneth’s eyes filled with fury, but the hard expression on his face told her he realized he was powerless to help her. With a heavy sigh, Kenneth lowered his sword.
    Màiri made another attempt to escape his grasp but the Scot tightened his fingers around her arm like a clamp. She did not want to face her father being held captive but the Scot gave her no choice.
    “Do na even think of running, milady. I have been your fool enough times since we met to last forever.”
    A muscle clenched on the side of his face, knotting in agitated fury. The angry look in his eyes gave evidence to the bridled rage he struggled to control.
    Score after score of her father’s warriors surrounded them, then parted down the middle to let her father through. He sat atop his mammoth steed, every inch the powerful laird she knew him to be. Each thundering beat of his horse’s hooves pounded the soft dirt, shaking the ground beneath her feet. A fierce scowl covered his face and her gift warned her of the hatred he felt for her.
    As he neared, she sensed the chasm separating them. She desired him for a father no more than he wanted her for a daughter. The endless prayers she’d said from little on had gone unanswered. He would never claim her as his own. Her conception had been nothing more than a freakish accident of nature.
    “Iain?”
    She did not look at the Scot when she called him by his Christian name. It was the first time. She only wanted to say it one time before it was too late.
    “Aye.”
    “Pledge to me you will do everything possible to spare Kenneth’s life. You owe him that much.”
    “You have na concern for your own?”
    Màiri clutched the dagger tighter in her fist. “Your pact with my father sealed my fate long ago.”
    “I would say from the look on your father’s face our pact has saved you from a beating.”
    “If you knew my father better, you would na mistake his hatred for mere anger.”
    The MacAlister cast her a glance, then turned his attention back to the MacBride laird who rode his steed close enough for them to feel the horse’s warm breath. With an agility belying his years, he leaped to the ground and stood before them.
    “Come here,” he demanded, the harshness in his voice a warning.
    The MacAlister held his grip on her arm, an indication that he did not want to let her go, but she twisted away, then stepped forward. She would not be a coward in the end.
    With a spiteful lift to his lips, her father glared at her the same way he always had, then ground out his words, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.
    “I knew it was too much to hope you were dead.”
    It took much for her not to react to the loathing she saw on his face and the venom that dripped from his words. She stood in stoic resignation, facing her father’s hatred as bravely as she had faced him her whole life. She held her body rigid, trying to keep the look on her face as impassive as possible. Then, with a lift of her chin, she raised the corners of her mouth and smiled at him.
    “If you want me dead, you will have to do the deed yourself. I do na plan to make it as easy for you as my mother did. She was a fool to think you would ever care for her again. My hatred for you has na left me nearly so vulnerable.”
    Ewan MacBride lifted his shoulders, making him appear even larger. The bitter tone of his voice echoed in the stillness. “You canna blame me for your mother’s death. I did na kill her.”
    “Not with your sword, but only because you were too great a coward.”
    Almost before she could react, her father raised his hand to slap her. Borne of the same instinct that had protected her her whole life, she lifted the dagger in her fist and swiped it across his chest, tearing his shirt from one side to the other. The gaping cloth soon turned dark with blood.
    With lightning speed, her father grabbed her