Well, come, for pitys sake! Let me look at you.

From the security of the shadowed doorway, Isabel bristled at her brothers arrogant
command, but she came all the same. Once, she would have tossed a derisive comment his
way, uncaring of the hateful things hed say or do in response. But now that she was no
longer in a position to gainsay him, it wasnt worth it to goad him.
She entered the elaborately furnished solar that had mere months ago been her fathers
domain, eyeing her brother warily.
Richards eyes gleamed in calculation as his beady eyes ran over her, over the low-cut, tight
gaudy gown that had been appropriated from one of her late fathers lemans. Yes. Youll
do quite well, he said, well pleased by the efforts of the sour-faced maid who had rudely
awakened her moments ago, dressing her with pinching hands. Lets see if the bastard tries
to say no to this!
Her prior irritation at Richards ominous early morning summons giving way to anxiety,
Isabel said nervously, He? What are you about, brother?
Rising from his stately chair all the better to intimidate her with his great, reed-thin height,
no doubt Richard peered down his snub nose at her, saying, We journey to the Frasers
today. Alec Fraser is a proud bastard and wont accept money as the only incentive to ally
with me so Ive decided to use you as added enticement.
Dumbfounded and horrified at the prospect, Isabel snapped, But but that is madness!
Alec Fraser will never agree to be your ally and certainly not with me as an inducement! You
are wasting what little time you have like a fool! she bit her lip in belated caution, taking a
step backwards warily, cursing her tart tongue.
She had escaped one tyrant for another since her fathers death and had felt the sharp sting of
her brothers hand far too many times to count these past few months.
But for once, Richard did not react hotly at her impertinence. Instead, he rocked back on his
heels, wagging a chastising finger under her nose, earning a frustrated sputter from her. Well
then you had best do your very finest to convince him of your worth, sister. After all, if he
does not have you then Hugh MacGregor certainly will and Ill vow youd rather be serving
Fraser than the old letch.
Isabels gut clenched at his words. She searched his face desperately, pleadingly, and
Richards eyes glittered with something nasty, his lips twisting into a goading smile as he
carefully watched for her response.
You wouldntnot MacGregor she whispered.
Hes already agreed, Richard cocked a ruddy brow. Though MacGregor boasts a less
skilled set of men than Fraser, its better than naught. Plus, hes filthy rich. Hes willing to
give me his protection and pay me a tidy sum for you! The reigning beauty of the highlands,
apparently! Bah, theres a joke if ever there was one. Youre the only thing of any damned
value I have left to bargain with since neither clan will be swayed by the promise of coin
alone for what Im asking, he grunted, before giving her a sneering onceover, saying,

Youd best believe, girl, that it will be one or the other. One would never think that a wellused strumpet could be of so much worth, but men will be men, always led by their rutting
thoughts. We leave within the hour. Ill not waste more time dithering! Youll do it, Isabel or
else you know what will happen. Aye, you will do it!
And then Richard was marching past her and out of the cosy solar with a face like thunder,
his shattering news delivered, and though Isabel she would not usually linger in her brothers
quarters, she groped her way to the chair he had just vacated, her legs weak, knowing shed
not make it to her place of solace without collapsing.
She glanced around the solar vaguely.
Alec Fraser or Hugh MacGregor. She shook her head, rejecting the prospect of having either
man as her future protector. She could flee, she knew. But where to? Her father had earned
many enemies as had his father before him and even her tentative acquaintances would
not agree to house her for fear of the reprisals from her brother. She was not worth the effort
of protecting. She could hardly blame anyone the Gordons had truly made a rod for their
own backs over the generations. They had no allies.
Had it been summer instead of dead winter, Isabels fear may have given way to spontaneity,
may well have seen her slipping away from Gordon landsbut what would her fate be, a
woman alone and with little coin? Rape or worse. This was not one of the fairy-tales shed
enjoyed as a child told by a travelling troubadour in which, after the hardships, she would be
rescued before the final terrible twist occurred. There would be no reprieve for her.
The nearest nunnery was a good three days ride away. It would be a miracle if she made it
there unscathed then there was there fact that she had a terrible sense of direction and
should be lucky to find it all. She had never shown a strong obedience towards the teachings
of the church, had never wished for a life of divine servitude, but when the option was
between that and whoring herself out on her brothers order, the former won out.
Their clan was under threat, it was true, and it was unlikely that Richards lean army could
withstand the imminent attack of the Duncans. Whilst Isabel doubted she alone would bring
about the compliance of a potential ally, even should she, she felt little for her clan save for
animosity. But amongst her hateful kinsfolk were the few people shed come to feel affection
for over the years, and the thought of them hurt or slain twisted at her gut. Then there were
the many children, the many innocents, who would suffer.
In addition to the fact that Richard was now her guardian, there was another thing he held
over her the thing he had taunted her with as he had left just now, his leverage. Colm.
Sensitive, wonderful Colm, their younger brother. If anyone was destined for a life serving
God, it was he. He was no future chieftain, no future alpha leader of their pack, and Richard
knew this well. He also knew of the bond she and Colm shared, knew that she would do
anything to see to his welfare now that Richard was the one lording over them, her parents
both dead not that her father had cared a whit for Colm when hed been alive.
When news of the Clan Duncans threat had emerged, Richard had given her a choice either
she abided by him thereby seeing to Colms wish of joining the monastery, or Colm was
fostered with Clan Morgan, a coarse, brutish lot who would jump on his tender demeanour
with relish, beating his gentleness from him.

But Isabel has assumed Richard intended to marry her off, securing a fiscally and socially
long-lasting alliance with one of the other highland clans as men were wont to do with their
daughters or sisters not whore her off to the highest bidder.
Alec Fraser was a better bet than Hugh MacGregor if she truly had to choose but Fraser
would not have her. The man could charm any female into his bed without so much as a
coaxing word save for her that was, for when hed half-heartedly tried a few summers ago
shed given him what for and then some.
Did Richard truly believe that a Fraser would come to the aid of a Gordon after generations
worth of hostility, of violence? That he would risk the well-being of his clan for them? For
her?
She thought back to Alec Fraser as shed last seen him: intimating, stoic, and devastating in
his savage male beauty. But whilst most females swooned over his coarse appearance, Isabel
was frightened by it.
Though shed seen him sporadically since childhood, she, like many others, had raptly
followed his rise from lowly, cast-off bastard to chieftain of Clan Fraser and alpha of their
pack. He was as revered as he was reviled, his skill as a solider a thing of lore, the man a
living legend. He was fawned over by ladies for much the same reason, although they tended
to put a romantic bend on his activities, touting him a heroic knight in the vein of King
Arthur rather than the fierce, ruthless warlord he was. Just as equally, he was derided by
females for his status as bastard of the late Alasdair Fraser.
He had not given her so much as a passing glance at Elaine MacDonalds wedding at
summers start Richard was sorely misinformed in his ridiculous plan. Any flippant desire
he may have to get under her skirts most likely for the sole purpose of crowing to his
clansmen over bedding a Gordon was long gone. In fact, she doubted he had noticed her at
all, so busy had he been perusing and then bedding the MacDonald chiefs third wife under
the old mans nose. Women fell over him in their eagerness to bed him literally. While
many other things may have changed with him over the years, he would not be the frivolous
sort to do badly by his clan, and especially not for an insignificant woman. Though marked
with a fierce reputation, he was also loyal, an inborn Fraser trait along with their slovenliness.
He would dismiss her and her brother on sight, most likely insulted at Richards daring if he
was not amused by it. He would dismiss her and her brother on sight, most likely insulted at
Richards daring if he was not amused by it.
Isabel left the solar in somewhat of a daze, passing her sleepy kinsmen and serfs, flinching at
the looks thrown her way some pitying, most sneering. Clearly, they knew all too well of
Richards scheming.
If the Fraser clan was known for loyalty, the Gordons were known for their self-serving
nature, their selfishness that, and their wealth, what little good it would do them now that
they were the target of the highlands most vicious clan, and in addition to that claim, they
were also feared as the cruellest pack of their race of people. No amount of money was worth
it to any clan to ally with them for the sake of Richards coin. No one wanted the Duncans as
an enemy.

Lady.
Isabel started out of her daze as she reached the foot of the stairs, the gruff greeting chilling
her. She warily eyed the castles seneschal.
Yes, what is it? she frowned at the grizzled man.
Your brother awaits you in the courtyard.
He truly means to leave today?
The mans eyes slipped away from hers, rejecting the appeal in her eyes, her tone. Best not
to keep him, lady.
Isabel turned away briskly, making to remount the stairs, saying, Then I must pack my-
Now, lady.
She bristled at the seneschal, giving an outraged cry as he grabbed at her arm and pulled her
across the hall. Many eyes fell upon the two of them struggling, and Isabel cursed the men
and women littered about, cursed their silent tongues and shifting eyes, all sending her on her
merry-way to her fate as Fraser or MacGregors whore.
You are being unreasonable, she hissed under her breath then, tugging on the mans beefy
hand as he reached the double-doors leading out of the courtyard. It will soon be winter I
must have my cloak at least-!
He threw her a hard look over his shoulder and she sagged in defeat, looking away, certain
that should she struggle, hed simply hoist her over his shoulder and carry her out bodily on
Richards prior instruction. For all their airs and graces, the Gordons were inclined to
barbarianism when it suited them, she thought bitterly.
But the man eventually granted her the concession of allowing a serf to bring her a cloak in
small defence of the bitterly cold clime, and then he was pushing her out of the hall, leading
her to the stables, towards the parcel of mounted men, her brother Richard at the front.
One of her Gordon cousins hoisted her impersonally up before him, his handsome face cold
and ruthless, and then the band of her brothers men were making haste, departing Gordon
lands on a swift canter, the chilled air whipping around them as they rode westerly.
Youve no need to fret, girl, her cousin said above her then in his usual monotone manner.
When Frasers done wi you, youll still have a place wi your clan. Ill not allow your
brother to cast you out.
Isabel threw a wary look up at him at the steely promise, and he gave her a brief, unsmiling
look, but there something in his pale blue eyes that chilled her. She had grown before this
man, had grown with his own children, and whilst their interaction had been minimum and
detached at best, the sudden realisation behind that look and his words sickened her.

Feeling dirty, she stiffened in the saddle, sitting upright, careful to ensure than not an inch of
her touched him, and he gave a short, hard laugh in mockery.
You need not look like that, Isabel Gordon. Youll not bed the Fraser bastard and turn your
pretty wee nose up at me, Ill vow. I always pinned you as a sensible lass. Ill give you my
protection. Youll need it.
She shivered at the ominous promise of his last words and though shed deigned to ignore
him, she couldnt help but utter with mocking bitterness, You mean youll still have me after
Ive been tainted by Fraser or MacGregor, Cormac Gordon?
Her cousin grunted above her, dismissing her sarcasm, Youll do your duty to your clan and
your pack, girl.
She thought his words rich considering shed lived her whole life being referred to as runt by
her kin, all of them sure to tell her that she was a shame upon the clan and pack with her halfmortal blood from her mothers side. Unlike her two brothers and everyone else in the pack,
she had no inner beast, did not experience that shift from her current form to the form of a
beast as the others did. Yet despite their disgust of her tainted blood they were happy enough
to whore her out to the highest bidder for their own needs with the explanation that she did it
for the good of her pack.
The rest of the journey passed in wordless silence, the steady pat of the horses hooves
against the treacherous paths grating on Isabels nerves. The pace was relentless, Richard
allowing a brief stop only once before he ordered for his men to remount again. The sun
dipped, the chill heightened, and still they continued the arduous journey to Fraser lands.
As dark circled them and they no doubt rode closer to their goal, Isabel thought of Alec
Fraser, thought of their childhood acquaintance with hope: Onceonce, we were friends,
were we not?
Or, if not friends, theyd both been on equal footing. But then, he was no longer the gaunt,
quiet, young boy he had once been with his sunken eyes and his skinny body, she reminded
herself. Gone had been any last shred of vulnerability at their last meeting.
Indeed, her father, should he have been alive and foolish enough to have attempted it, would
no longer have been able to beat him. What did Alec Fraser owe her, the girl who had stood
by, petrified, as her father had thrashed him time and time again when he had lived them after
her father had taken Alecs mother as mistress? Isabel had been so weak, so fearful, she had
never said a word, had never stood up for him despite how much shed desperately wanted to.
Her cowardice still shamed her to this day but shed soon grown out of her terrors. A black
eye, a bruised arm, a winded stomach had all been worth deflecting her fathers ire from
Colm.
Staring blindly at passing forestry, she knew she could not lie to herself.
She was doomed to be the whore of Hugh MacGregor. Her cousin Cormac had been wrong
she need not worry being cast out by the Gordons since it was inevitable she would not
survive her time with the old man after hed finished with her.

***
Alec tossed back the last of his ale, thumping his tankard against the scarred surface of his
table, crying out for more.
A busty serf Beth or Bertha, he hardly knew poured him a healthy measure, pressing her
breasts into his arm in invitation as she attended him.
Alec grinned at her, giving her a light pat on the rump in thanks, before turning back to his
trencher and his men.
-so I had the blonde on top of me and I had the red-haired wench working me below. Ahh,
twas was bliss, I tell you!
Alec shook his head at the crude story of his cousins recent bed play. Come, man, he
clapped him across the shoulder. There are bairns about, he said mildly, tossing his head
towards the litter of children running amok in the hall.
Gavin Fraser shrugged. Aye, well seeing as how a fair few are probably mine, Ive no
complaint against their tender sensibilities being abused.
Alec shrugged, skewering his meat on his dirk, but before hed popped the succulent morsel
into his mouth, a white-haired brute entered through the heavy doors of his hall, his long
strides thundering across the rush covered floor, his heavy brow lowered in a scowl.
Ivan? Alec nodded calmly, biting the meat, chewing steadily as he watched the older man.
Youve a visitor, chief, the Norseman said, every line of his body drawn taught. Richard
Gordon and his men.
The ribald chatter and laugher around the long table hushed at Ivans statement; Alecs serfs
and kinsmen looked towards him raptly, and a fair few of them drew their dirks in greedy
anticipation of vulnerable Gordon flesh to skewer.
Whats he playing at, showing his cursed face here? Gavin bit out beside him in offended
outrage.
Alec considered the faces poised towards him. Each mirrored the distrust and abhorrence on
his cousins face. The prior hum of contentment and ease filling the hall was now heavier,
darker.
Whatever he wants Im not interested send him on his way, Alec shrugged, but Ivan
lingered, shifting from foot to foot in an uncharacteristic show of sheepishness.
He said youd want to meet with him. Said said he had someone youd be wanting to see.
Gavin grunted. That catamite needs to be taught-
Oh, aye? Alec cocked a brow, giving in to idle curiosity.

His sister. Isabel Gordon.

Alec felt his sardonic smile slipping, bemusement misting his mind.
Chief?
He glanced vaguely at Ivan, the reams of faces poised towards him, waiting for his reply, a
blur.
Well what should I tell the swine? Ivan persisted.
Tell him to fuc-
Alec held up a ceasing hand, stilling his cousins scathing instruction.
He took a healthy swallow of ale before wiping an arm of his mouth. Send them in.
In his peripheral, Alec saw Gavin look from Ivans retreating back to Alec in disgust. What
the devil are you playing at?
Shooting his cousin a brief look, Alec returned automatically to his ale, sipping at the
comforting liquid. Nothing better going on, is there? Might as well see what hes about.
You mean you want to ogle the Gordon bitch, Gavin muttered under his breath, his
handsome face twisting in hostility, and before Alec could clip him around the ear, a loud,
brash voice was declaring from the front of his hall:
Well, you certainly landed on your feet, didnt you?
Alec glanced across the way as Richard Gordon made his grand entrance, his sister following
behind him though hed have been hard pressed to identify her, bundled up in a thick,
expensive looking cloak that made a mockery of even his finest garments.
Crude insults were hurled across at siblings, and Alec said, his voice ringing out, Get on
with it, Gordon.
Richard stopped midstride, hesitating for a moment, clearly torn between giving into the
malice floating in his eyes when a gentler tongue would serve him better. He glanced around
Alecs hall, taking in the sea of antagonistic faces, and said in a clipped voice, Perhaps we
can speak privately?
Alec shook his head, saying dismissively, Nay, I keep no secrets from my clan, and he held
up a ceasing hand as the man would seat himself at his table. Yeve not be invited to seat
yerself at my table.
Gordon took no offence, turning away from him, a cats smile playing over his sharply
featured face as he looked towards his sister. Alec watched, annoyed, as the man made a
grand show off relieving her of her cloak before folding it carefully over his hands, his eyes
all the while on Alec.

Come, sister, Gordon clucked at her, still watching Alec. Greet our host.
Exhaling sharply at the display that met him, Alec watched the girl at Gordons side with
appreciative eyes. She glanced quickly, nervously, at her brother before sending a brief
curtsey Alecs way.
My my lord, her eyes met his briefly before she dipped her head, clasping her hands
before her, looking down. Submissive, subservient.
He felt his loins stirring beneath the table and shifted in his seat.
Well? he said flippantly then, passing Gordon a suspicious once over, even as he watched
the girl in his peripheral.
When it came to lasses, he had few preferences blonde, red or dark-haired, he didnt give a
whit so long as they had a face that wouldnt curdle milk and so long as they enjoyed bedplay as much as he. But Isabel Gordon with her dark beauty appealed to him in a very
specific way that he couldnt not deny nor quite understand. He was annoyed by his swift
response to her for he was not short of amenable women and would not do himself a
disservice by mooning about what he could never have like a green lad. But he got over his
automatic reaction to her. Hed ever been an admirer of fair women and Isabel Gordon was
certainly a welcome sight in his hall.
I am in need of yourexpertise.
What? Alec frowned, trying to clear his mind. He tried to focus as Gordon approached him,
stopping a few feet away.
I need you. As an ally. My fathers so-called bastard son thinks to usurp me as alpha. He is
claiming that his slattern of a mother married my father first. He has nothing to prove it, of
course, but hes gettingbraver, shall we say? Richards thin lips twisted, a look of unease
passing over his usually smug face. We cannot fend off their pack alone.
Oh, aye? Why should I care?
If they wipe out you Gordons, theyll be doing us all a favour! Gavin crowed beside him,
and his kinsmen roared approval.
Alec threw his cousin a sharp look, for it did little good rising to likes of Gordon and his
goading presence.
Wipe out the Gordons, you say? My sister here, you mean? For she is a Gordon. The
defenceless women and children? Raped and slain? Richard spread his arms expansively,
and Gavins previously aggressive expression dimmed for a moment.
Gordons words left a sour taste in Alecs mouth, too. He did not advocate brute violence
against innocents, but surely the man was exaggerating, no doubt thinking of playing at
warfare to prove himself, to assert his authority now that his swine of a father had passed,
leaving him as the clans chief and alpha. A bloody joke.

Do not think to guilt me in aiding ye. Id not spit on ye were ye set aflame, nor would ye me.
Yeve allies. Go to them. This is yer war.
No one else will do as well as you, curse you, Gordon said in reluctant praise. You Frasers
have fought against the Duncans before, you-
At war with the Duncans? Alec uttered low, sitting straighter in his seat, a chill passing
over him despite the roaring fire in the hearth beyond.
His cultured tones dropping, his burr deepening, Gordon said, Aye, wi Reese Duncan,
bastard of Lydia Duncan. Ill reward you richly, Fraser-
Alec grunted, looked away, refusing the prick to his conscience, for he knew well enough
what the Duncans were capable of. Aye, Richard Gordon had not been exaggerating.
We dont want yer filthy money, Gavin all but hissed, the prior spark of conscience that
had lit his blue eyes before suddenly darkening. And its no wonder the Duncan bastards
insane, being of both Duncan and Gordon blood. Christ almighty, the buggar never had a
chance!
Richard Gordons milk white cheeks developed a blotchy, pink stain. His eyes narrowed.
Youre fools to be so proud. Other than your lands and cattle, your clan and pack is lean in
all ways. Fraser Castle is nothing but a pile of bricks! Aye, sneer all you want, he mocked at
the wave of dissent that met his words. Think what a tidy sum could do for your dwelling,
your kinsmen? Especially with winter fast approaching.
Gordons cajoling words of promise ringing in his ears, Alec stared around the careworn hall,
still standing despite centuries of warfare and revelry and only just. Frasers had never been
wealthy; it wasnt in their make-up to be prosperous in any way but on in battle. Aye, the
money would do them good, but no amount of coin was worth risking his clans welfare for
the benefit of the Gordons.
Its not only my money I was intending to gift you with, Fraser, Gordon continued, his
voice bleeding into Alecs tentative thought-process on the matter, and so-saying, the man
suddenly grabbed at his sister and placed her before him, presenting her like a trophy. But
Alec had guessed at this from the off, for why else would he have brought the girl here?
I saw the way you watched her at Elaine MacDonalds wedding I saw how you watched
her all those years you were living on Gordon lands. How youve watched her today. Like a
starved dog hungering over a tasty morsel. Don't deny it!
Alec cocked a brow. Ill not, he returned steadily, smiling slightly at the ruffled look on
Gordons face. I admire comely women unashamedly.
Richard dismissed this with a flick of his head, refusing to be beaten, clearly. Aye, but
admiring them is one thing, Fraser coupling with them is quite another. Say the word say
you'll join fight for me, and she's yours. Come, it's a gift from God Himself! After all, how
else would a bastard like you ever be able to touch the likes of her?

Gavin hissed in Alecs air, engaged on his behalf. Thrash him want me to do it for you?
he started to rise from the bench but Alec gestured for him to stay.
Beneath the table, his hand flexed, tightening into to the fist he so wished to slam into
Gordons smug face, but he schooled the violent urge, angered by it: he'd been taunted with
that epithet and worse too many times in his twenty-four years to count. It didnt bother
him. Then why did he feel his calm teetering so? After all, this was Richard Gordon, an
insignificant fool hardly worth the effort of his ire.
Tempting as the offer may be, I've no wish for a wife. They're more trouble than they're
worth-
Gordons rich laughter cut him off. Who said anything about a wife? Do what you will with
her - make her a serf, subject her to backbreaking labour: a Gordon serving your every whim,
wouldnt that be a sight! A few of the braver serfs heckled at this, buoyed by the image, and
Richard continued, Or use her as your leman. If I could get a hefty dowry out of her, don't
you think I would? Stupid chit already gave it away for free to Ian MacDonald a bloody
mortal! Shes no untried maid. Shell service you well, man, Gordon promised, getting
excited, trying to sell her to him, trying to secure Alecs compliance.
But Alec barely paid him mind, taken aback at Gordons incentive to secure his compliance,
but something else had caught him.
Ian MacDonald. He stared at Isabel Gordon, watched as she pleated the fabric of her skirts,
her hands shaking; he watched as her eyes looked anywhere but at him.
Why am I no surprised that yed subject the lass to such a fate. At least wi marriage, yed
protect her a measure. Ye really are a feckless swine, Richard Gordon. And my answer is still
no, he said hardly then, inexplicably feeling the need to hurt the girl to make her hate him.
While it's true I imagined her spread before me many a cold night as any stupid fool would
suffering his first calf love, I was still green, yet to lay my first woman. Well, Gordon, I've
lain my fair share in that time and have come to learn that one is as good as any other. Unlike
ye, Ive no need to pay for it. No woman is worth what ye want in exchange. Besides, why
should I want a well-used wench?
Something in his gut twisted as Isabel Gordon flinched in the wake of his speech, at the hurt
on her lovely face, but he refused to be swayed by her.
Still, Alec was lying in one respect, for he didnt care a whit if a woman was a still a maid or
not well, he did. He preferred practiced women, those who enjoyed the pleasures of the
flesh as much as he. He hadnt the patience for innocent maids, was not aroused by shy
timidity in the bedchamber, but for some reason, it rankled that Isabel Gordon had given
herself to Ian MacDonald, the black-haired little sod with his princely features his sisters
words. It rankled at his male pride, aye, but it was more than that
A beautiful woman was not a hard find. He had been completely truthful with Richard
Gordon as a young lad still wet behind the ears he'd looked upon Isabel Gordon, a summer
or two older than him, with a kind of reverence: like a sotted knight mooning over his lady
fair. But it had been a different kind of attraction, more chaste than anything. Hed been in
awe of her solemn, lady-like manner, so different to the ladies of his acquaintance.

Now that he'd had his fill of women, he knew they were all alike. Aside from bed play, they
were a burden. She was no different.
So thats it, is it? Gordon spat then. Aye, just like a bastard to turn his nose up at a fine
thing! She was too high for you anyway, you filth.
Alec exchanged an amused look with Ivan. None of his clansmen, however, looked remotely
humoured. In fact, their hands were poised before their dirks, ready for the signal to carve a
signature into his face, ready to toss his out bodily, giving him a few broken limbs as a
farewell gift. Not necessarily out of the need to honour the besmirching of his name, mind,
but just out of pure Fraser principle: no Gordon had ever set foot in Fraser lands and walked
away in tact - save for to tonight.
He watched the siblings depart broodingly before dismissing them, staring at his mug of ale.
Looks like Hugh MacGregor it is then, sister.
Alec's head whipped back to his guests. But that had been no whispered aside to his sister.
Gordon had wanted him to hear.
Ye can't mean to sell her to him, he said low, eyes narrowed in disbelief.
I can and I will. MacGregor has been randy for her since she started her courses before,
even, he snorted. Of course, his clan doesn't have your skill in battle, but he'll do. I'm not in
much of a position to be picky, Gordon snorted. But here, Fraser - you seemed shocked!
Didn't think a savage like you was capable of such tender, moral feeling, he goaded.
Alec shook his head in disgust. MacGregor was a reprobate. He'd raped his own niece and
gotten her with child, the poor lass dying in childbirth. His first four wives had died under
mysterious circumstances, and his mistresses were not treated much better once he tired of
them. They were a pack without discipline. Everyone knew of his perverted ways, of his
abuse. He kept himself to himself up in his expansive keep, a miser with his gold, a miser
with his womenfolk who he used and abused. And judging by Isabel Gordons pale face and
desperate eyes, she knew it all too well.
For the first time, Alec looked at her. Properly.
My God beautiful. So chaste, so pure, even in spite of Ian MacDonalds taking of her
maidenhead. What was it about her that still stirred him after all these years, that caught his
attention? Wanting what he couldnt have, most likely. If hed gotten under her skirts, easing
the itch that had first arisen as he did with any other woman he liked the look of, hed think
nothing of her now, he reasoned.
He took in Richard Gordons freshly hopeful face. He looked at the girl, her eyes finally
trained on him equally as hopeful.
Then he looked away, looked at his tankard. There was the answer. Dismissal.

He could not endanger his pack for the Gordons sake. Could not ally with the clan who had
killed his step-father. He could not ally with the clan who had taken his mother from him after all, she'd died birthing Samuel Gordons offspring after hed taken her as leman some
years ago. Nay, he could not and he would not.
And though something in his gut twisted at the decision, he turned away from the guilt
gnawing at him. Curse it; he had nothing to feel guilty about!
Wait!
He stiffened at the feminine appeal, lifting his eyes to imploring, liquid eyes, the jeers from
his men and women sounding distant. He hardened himself against Isabel Gordon, lifted his
tankard and sipped at the warm ale slowly, his stomach roiling in slight protest, now sickened
by the drink.
Isabel Gordon moved out of her brothers hold, ran the length of the long table, stopping
before Alecs chair, lowering herself at his feet, the submissive position stirring something
within him best left dormant.
She grabbed at his hand curled around the tankard, her fingers cold and biting, her eyes large
and pleading as she peered up at him.
Alec looked at her pale hand on his scarred, sun darkened one. Loveliness against coarseness.
You - you cannot be so unfeeling, Alec-
He snorted at the whispered reproach. You know nothing about me, lady, he said
brusquely, pulling his hand harshly out of her hold, staring straight ahead all the while
acutely conscious of her kneeling before him. Your brother asks too much - I'll not
recklessly lead my pack to-
But you'll lead me to it? You'll lead me to MacGregor? Or lead me to a certain fate, my clan
at the mercy of the Duncans?
Alec winced at her softly spoken words.
This is your brothers war - not mine, he bit out, pushing away from his table, standing,
dragging her to her feet.
He took her by the shoulders, intending to push her away but she refused the rejection, hands
fisting his linen tunic, saying swiftly,
I'll do anything Alec. Anything-
Alec snorted and uttered low, Anything? Aye, I'll bet. I need no more serfs, lady, and I've
plenty of women to take my ease on even should I not, ye'd never give yerself to me freely
and Ive no stomach for rape nor for a frigid wench, lying there to be taken, stiff as a corpse.
So what would I get out of this cursed bargain? Naught-

Isabel Gordon shook her head quickly. It wouldn't be like that; I would come to you
willingly. I would please you. I would please you, the frenetic promise floated up to him,
fogged his mind.
A small hand flattened on his chest, rubbing a slow circle over him.
The whispered words tugged low at his gut, her little caress burned him. Alec searched the
sweetly featured face poised towards him, and then his eyes jerked to the tentative hand still
stroking him.
His balls tightened in needy response. All that and she barely touched him! Curse her. Curse
all Gordons! His birth fathers words echoed through his head, raw and bitter.
Neer give yer heart to a lass! Once ye do, yell have given them everything and theyll leave
you, lad! Aye, theyll leave ye for the next man and leave ye wi nothin!
Physically, Isabel Gordon and his mother were complete opposites, the former dark and
abundantly feminine, the latter fair and delicate. The proud, easy-going Alasdair Fraser had
been crippled by his mothers abandonment, and so too had his step-father after him when the
fickle, greedy woman had started an affair with Isabel Gordons father, leading ultimately to
his step-fathers death.
Beyond their looks, Isabel Gordon seemed to share a fair few traits with his late mother,
namely that she was trouble shed already bedded a MacDonald when shed been betrothed
to a Morgan, though lord knew what had gone awry there and hed heard a fair few
rumours of a romance shed had with the Cameron chiefs heir.
Shed aroused Alecs interest with a few mere looks as a lad, but he was no lad now. While
he knew hed more than be able to guard himself against her wiles as he did every other
calculating female, the fact remained that, if he agreed to fight Gordons cause, it would
undeniably be mostly for the lasss benefit, out of guilt and conscience.
He caught her maddening, caressing hand then in a vicelike grip, caught and held her away
from him.
Bending low to meet her slight height, he uttered for her ears alone, his eyes never leaving
hers hoping to disturb her, hoping to earn an outraged slap from her, You know exactly
what Id want, woman. Id want no serf out of ye. No quick coupling. Thered be nothing
chaste about it. Id use ye well. Frasers whore, a bastards whore, thats what theyd call ye
Aye, everyone, he repeated at her wide-eyed look of distaste. Id use ye when I wanted
where I wanted. Yed likely bear my bastards the rate wed go at it after all, for what yed
cost me, Id be sure to get my use of ye. And after Id tired of ye, Id send ye packing. So
do you still say yed do anything?
He watched as Isabel Gordon stared at their joined hands before tossing her head back, her
loose raven hair gleaming blue in the fire-lit hall. Yes, she said firmly, her green eyes
flashing with something he didnt care for. Now, what do you say?

***
Isabel paced the small chamber, restless. She approached the door again and pressed her ear
to it, listening to the raised voices beyond, the roars of protest, the shouts of displeasure
both male and female clashing, all trying to be heard.
How long had she been in this stale smelling room since Alec Fraser had ordered a hostile
serf to take her away from his hall? She had not had a chance to say a further word to her
brother, no farewell. Good riddance. But what was to become of her now?
She peered warily around the chamber, illuminated only by the moonlight and a single candle
the maid had begrudgingly acquired for her, taking in the single chest, the bed pallet. Other
than these two things, the room was bare. Although the room was immaculate, the blanket
over the pallet straight and un-creased, she rejected the inclination to perch against the pallet
fearing that, should she settle upon it, a swarm of insects would come for her. Save for this
small room, Castle Fraser was a sty, and shed not chance it.
In the end, she curled herself on the floor, leaning against the cold stone wall, watching the
door with hard eyes, but half the night passed without the Frasers violent debate in the hall
ceasing.
Though she was glad to be tucked away from the spectacle, the anxiousness of not knowing
what was to be done with her mounted. Time dragged by, and she felt herself wearying as the
sky darkened further, exhausted from the emotionally fraught day, but no sooner did sleep
claim her, she was starting to wakefulness by a thunderous crash coming from below, the
sound so loud it felt as if the stone walls trembled.
She came quickly to her feet just as the chambers door was pushed open to reveal Alec
Fraser standing at the threshold.
He looked grim, his eyes running over her briefly, before he closed the door behind him.
He walked past her, removing his tunic, his large hands moving next to his plaid. He
hesitated, and Isabel felt her face heat.
My lor Alec? she said softly after a long, heavy silence after hed removed his plaid and
stalked to his pallet completely nude before spreading beneath the thin blanket, flinging a
thick arm over his eyes.
He grunted, and she took that her cue to continue.
Thank you I mean, I-
Yeve nothing to thank me for. I didnt agree to do it for ye.
At the cool pronouncement, Isabel wavered, warily taking in Alecs suddenly set jaw.

Gordon doesnt stand a chance against the Duncans. Reese Duncan is a vicious bastard. For
once, yer brother wasnt talking out of his arse.
Eyes still covered with his lightly furred, thickly muscled arm, Isabel wished she could see
him, wished she could read him. Softly, she said, Then why did you agree to ally with him?
Alec shifted onto his side, leaning up an elbow, his eyes running over her as she shivered
against the wall opposite him.
Hes payin us a fair amount for our service, and, well, he looked away, pleated the coarse
fabric of the blanket for a moment, there were those who were kind to me when I lived on
Gordon lands, he uttered, before saying in off-hand tones. Is auld Ida still about?
Ida? Isabel said in surprise, scanning his face. He looked mildly interested as he awaited
her response but for some reason, she wasnt completely convinced by his blas enquiry. Ida
had doted on Alec, it was true, gifting him with copious oat-cakes and bannocks, a fond
mother-hen when he was so in need to mothering. That he still re-called her after all this time
surprised and touched her. Yes, she is
Aye? Good. Braw lass, that one, he shoved his hands behind his head, turning onto his back
again, staring idly up at the stained ceiling.
Something in Isabels chest constricted, warmth filled her numbed body. He cared about old
Ida, remembered her after all this time. Why did that shock her? Perhaps because she was so
use to being around perfidious men, she thought bitterly, thinking of her late father and her
swine of a brother. Alecs easy nature bemused her; he had no reason to enter into hostilities
with the Duncans but yet he was. Because he was an honourable man. Oh, shed known that
that from the start, but it was one thing to be honourable to ones own clan her brother
being an exception, for his motives in seeking aid were self-motivated. He didnt care a whit
for his kinsmen. Hed been coddled all his life, lived a life of privilege and yet hed turned
out bitter and hateful, looking out only for himself. But Alec Fraser
Are you cold, lass? the man in question said softly then, bringing her back to herself. Tis
long been said a body can warm another better than anything else.
Isabel stiffened at the teasing cadence that softened Alecs burr, at the smoky look that
entered his sky-blue eyes.
Let me warm you.
Shed always been frightened of his intimidating, coarse physicality, by his stony faade
whenever shed chance upon him, that the evidence of his humour was bewildering. It made
her edgy. This was not the savage chieftain throwing her over his shoulder, demanding she
submit, that she had expected that the stories had painted him as. He was asking her,
inviting her to come to him. Asking for her to honour their bargain. She could turn her face
away and hed not lift a finger to make her yield like many other men would, she knew.
But shed not. Shed not renegade.

She approached the pallet slowly, staring at Alecs nude upper body, the light from the
single-candle highlighting the hard, taut musculature of his torso, highlighting the array of
scars, scraps and wounds bisecting his bronzed skin, some pale and faded, some freshly pink.
Pushing her slippers from her cramped feet, she climbed into the bed as she was, feeling
foolish, and a chastising cluck sounded in her ear.
Seeing as yeve come to me wi only the clothes on yer back, yell be regretting getting that,
er, fetchin gown rumpled. Take it off, lass.
Richard Richard thought it would entice you, Isabel murmured, laying stiffly beside him,
refusing his softly delivered order.
Entice, you say? Well, its certainly eye-catching. But yeve no need of pretty frocks, Isabel
Gordon. Ye draw the eye well eno just as is.
Ysabel scoffed at that, even as something in her belly tightened sweetly at the little speech.
Isabel said in mocking dryness, The Frasers are famed for a few things poetry isnt one of
them. Am I an exception to the rule, my lord, or are you always sosweet? she arched a
brow, shuffling across the bed until she lay at the very edge, moving onto her side so she
could scrutinise her bed partner.
Sweet?! tawny brows rose high. Alec Fraser looked quite offended. Truth be told, lass I
suppose yeve caught me off my guard. When I pictured myself in bed tonight, I didnt
imagine Id be lying next to Isabel Gordon.
Isabel bit her lip in embarrassed modesty at the wistful inflection to his voice. Of all the
women Alec Fraser could - and had - woo into bed, she found herself quite humbled in a
purely feminine way, her vanity roused. She thought back to the her brothers words in the
hall, but of course, Richard had been laying it on thick when hed referenced Alecs past
interest in her.
Isabel

Gordon, Alec said again, shaking his head slightly. Has a Fraser ever bedded a
Gordon? I cannae recall it, although I've heard a fair few stories about my great grandfather
Callum Fraser having a hankering for one of your lot. He was as ugly as a mules rear-end,
mind, so I reckon he didnt have much success. Gordon women have always been known for
their looks if naught else, after all.
Charming. But you know, she mused dryly, eager to draw this out and to delay the
inevitable he could well have thrown her over his shoulder and done away with her.
Aye, I suppose, Alec shrugged, and Isabel shot him a long look at his perfect seriousness.
He met her look squarely, his eyeswondrous.
Isabel bristled beside him, feeling a fool as she belatedly realising just what that look of his
meant, what that wistful bend to his voice earlier had suggested. A notch on his ever
increasing bedpost, thats what. No doubt he had worked his way quite successfully through

the various clans by now. But she was more annoyed at herself, annoyed by her abused
reaction.
As I recall, she said then, wincing slightly at the prim, clipped retort, you bedded my
cousin a while back. Helen Gordon. She arched a brow at her new protector, daring him to
sputter a denial.
But he did no such thing, as she'd have expected from any other male in his position. Instead,
he gave her a sheepish look before saying defensively, I'm not promised, nor married. I
made the lass no assurances. She's been wed long eno to her ancient husband and I wasn't
her first foray into extra marital play-
Isabel threw him a jaundiced look for his casual, practical explanation. Well then, I don't
know why you're so awed about bedding a Gordon, if thats the case. Tell me, do you bleat
this same line to all your women? To Annie Macdonald, for example? 'N er thought I'd get
up a Macdonald skirts, now lift them up like a good lass.
Her poor attempt to mimic his gravely burr saw his lips twitching slightly but before he could
say aught, Isabel continued in the same sardonic manner, getting quite enthused, and Im
sure you said the same to her step daughter Elaine MacDonald right after-
That chit? Alecs roughly handsome face took on an abused look. I'd not bed her.
Rumour has it you did, Isabel shrugged lightly, smoothing at the coarse blanket over them.
And I don't know why you're looking so injured she's very pretty.
Aye? Well I like my women with a bit o meat on their bones, a bit of softness to cushion
me, if you ken what I mean. Aye, I see that ye do, he mocked softly, reading her
embarrassment well, even in the low lightning. And yer wrong - I never bedded yer cousin.
We, er, never got that far, at least.
Oh, I see, Isabel nodded after a moment, folding her hands primly over the abrasive
blanket. Then I'll be your first Gordon after all.
Now, lass, Alec frowned then, shifting uncomfortably on the pallet, his normally steady,
easy expression dropping, uncharacteristic awkwardness claiming him. I didn't mean it like
that-
I'm sure you didn't, she returned kindly and his frown become a scowl, his forehead
furrowing, lowering,
You'll not be just a conquest to me, Isabel Gordon, he said, softly, correctly guessing at her
veiled ire. I'll not crow about bedding ye - seeing as how everyone will know it, it'd be
pointless anyhow, he added thoughtfully, before continuing in the same soft, sober
tone. Yeve no need to fear that from me, lass.

Alec's hand landed heavily on her covered hip beneath the blanket at the close of his little
speech that had warmed and caught at her hard heart more precisely than any syrupy love
words ever could have.
For a long moment, Alec Fraser seemed content to stroke her hip, and when Isabel chanced a
shy, nervous glance his way, it was to see his eyes closed, his mouth slightly parted, his
breaths gentle.
Why, he's fallen asleep, she thought in surprised disbelief.
Yet though there was relief for this reprieve, there was also something suspiciously similar to
disappointment. She shrugged the traitorous feeling away, shamed and annoyed at herself.
Despite her avowals to rest, mindful of how trying the following day would be for her, she
found herself looking across, staring at his relaxed face, at the strong, square and slightly cleft
chin, at his slackened jaw. Oh, but he was beautiful - more beautiful than a man had any right
to be, especially one so obviously uncaring of his appearance if his overlong tangle of sun
bleached hair was anything to go by, his weather beaten, scarred face his untidy, careworn
clothing.
None of these things detracted from his attraction, and were that not enough, his easy manner,
his honourable core, would have won her round just the same. She had sorely misjudged him
those few times she'd seen him since him since they'd both entered into adulthood. He was
not cold and unfeeling.
Devastating, she thought then.
Help, she closed her eyes, turned her face to the wall. Let me not soften towards him.