Page 43 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander (The Highland’s Lawson Sisters #3)
CHAPTER TWO
“ I hate this place,” Sinead whispered quietly, dread gurgling in her belly as she stared at the oak door before her.
She knew what lay behind it. Her mother’s study had been a place she had frequented throughout her childhood whenever the prior Lady Domnhall had wanted to scold her for one thing or another.
But it had been a long time since she’d walked these wretched halls. She’d previously thought that the dread Castle Domnhall had instilled in her when she’d been only a girl had gone.
Sinead was proven wrong just yesterday when the letter from her mother had arrived, telling her that she was expected at her childhood home the following afternoon.
Sighing, Sinead placed her hand on the door.
The sooner I get this meeting over with, the sooner I can return home to Castle McKie and tell Kendra all the horrid things our maither will undoubtedly say.
She pushed the door open, stepping into the office with her chin held high.
“There ye are.” Her mother’s shrill, mean voice filled the space, and Sinead’s blue eyes flicked to her. “I’ve been waitin’ on ye half the mornin’. What did ye do, walk here?”
Frustration bubbled up in Sinead’s belly, and she bit her tongue to keep herself from arguing back.
“Me apologies, Maither,” was all she said, keeping her tone as flat as possible.
She felt her mother’s eyes rake over her, the feel of it like oil. It made Sinead’s skin crawl, and as she studied Rebecca’s face, Sinead saw the corner of her mother’s mouth tick up in a sneer.
“I suppose it is nae possible for ye to walk here,” her mother spat. “Just look at ye. Bigger than even the last time I saw ye.”
Sinead’s stomach flipped at her mother’s words. Her hands tingled. She wanted to run them over herself. She wanted to feel the body that her mother seemed to hold so much contempt for beneath her fingertips. But she would not.
She could not.
Sinead had learned a long time ago that anything like that would be interpreted as a victory for her mother. That Rebecca would see the gesture and draw satisfaction from it, knowing her words had hit exactly as intended.
I willnae give her the satisfaction of gettin’ to me. She cannae affect me like that. Nae anymore.
“I am sorry, Maither,” Sinead repeated in that same, even tone, preparing herself to redirect the conversation. “Yer letter yesterday said that ye wanted to speak with me, but that it was only somethin’ ye would talk about if I visited. Would ye like to discuss why ye called me here?”
Rebecca’s blue eyes turned flinty.
It was one of the things that Sinead hated. The fact that she had her mother’s eyes. Their eyes were blue, hooded, and slightly upturned.
Sinead knew that other people found them pretty. She’d been complimented on them more than once throughout her life. But no matter how much she tried, when she looked in a mirror, she always saw the disdain-filled eyes of her mother staring back at her.
“Daenae try to rush me, lass,” Rebecca barked before pointing to one of the chairs across the desk from where she was sitting. “Sit down.”
Sinead did as she was told, rearranging her skirts beneath her before sinking down onto the seat. Once she was situated, she returned her attention to her mother and waited.
The silence dragged on, filled only with the crackling of the fire in the hearth behind Rebecca and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.
Sinead knew her mother. She knew that it would not serve her to try to speak. Her mother liked to make people uncomfortable, to force them to wait in silence until she believed that they had suffered enough.
Finally, Rebecca huffed.
“It’s time for ye to get married,” she said matter-of-factly.
Her words immediately caused Sinead’s stomach to sour.
“I currently have nay suitors,” Sinead objected, readying herself to tell her mother all of the reasons why she would not be getting married.
At least not anytime soon.
But just as Sinead opened her mouth to begin speaking, Lady Domnhall cut her off.
“I ken that ye are unable to find a suitor on yer own,” she quipped, her lips tugging up in a sneer. “After that fiancé of yers left ye because he wasnae attracted to ye, nay other man will have ye. That much is clear.”
A lump formed in Sinead’s throat at her mother’s words. Clenching her fists, she allowed her nails to bite into her palms, focusing on the pain of it to keep her from arguing back.
It willnae serve me to fight with her. If I do, it will only make matters worse. She will only try to make me more miserable.
“I daenae need…” Sinead began, but her mother cut her off swiftly.
“I have planned a ceilidh for ye,” she said in a tone filled with venom.
“I have hand-selected all of the potential suitors that will be attendin’.
Each one of them will be a good match for ye.
It will be in five days’ time. Ye will be on yer best behavior, and ye will be walkin’ out of that night with the intent to accept the courtin’ of at least one of them. ”
The anger and frustration that had been building within Sinead since the moment she’d stepped foot into the castle finally bubbled over. She could no longer stop herself.
Sinead stood quickly, the force of it sending the chair she had been sitting on toppling back. It hit the ground with a clatter, and her mother’s mouth popped open in surprise.
“I daenae need a ceilidh,” Sinead argued.
Heat rose to her cheeks, and she knew that if she could see herself, she would find them painted crimson. Knowing that her fury was written so clearly on her face only served to spur her on.
“I daenae need to marry,” she continued. “Need I remind ye what Kendra said? And it was Kendra who assured me that I daenae need to marry. Nae if I daenae want to.”
Her mother narrowed her eyes at her. While Sinead’s anger often caused her to burn hot, her mother’s anger was something else entirely.
Her mother’s anger was calculated and cunning. Her mother’s anger had always been cold.
“Ye dare come into me home,” Rebecca hissed, standing slowly and planting her palms down on the desk in front of her, “and try to defy me? Ye try to tell me, yer maither, what ye will and willnae do?”
“I came here,” Sinead fired back, her voice rising as she glared at her mother, “because ye invited me. Nay, I came here because ye insisted. I assure ye, if it had been up to me, I wouldnae be here at all.”
“Ye will attend the ceilidh,” her mother ordered. “Ye will charm at least one of these men. And ye will do it with a smile on yer face. Or do ye want to spend the rest of yer life livin’ at Castle McKie while yer sister supports ye? Do ye want to be a little leech, like ye always have been?”
“Ye have nay right!” Sinead yelled, pointing her finger at her mother. “Ye lost the right to make these demands of me the moment that Kendra became the Lady of our clan. Ye have nay power over me. Nae about this.”
Sinead expected her mother to yell back at her, but what she did instead was much more terrifying.
Slowly, a smile tugged up the corner of her lips, but there was no happiness in it. No, the smile that spread across her mother’s face was that of a wolf eyeing its meal.
“I am yer maither,” she said simply, her voice filled with ice. “And since yer faither is dead, ye belong to me. There is nothin’ that ye can do to change that.”
Sinead’s heart sank as her mother’s words washed over her, the threat within them hitting her like a punch to the stomach.
There was no truth to what Rebecca had said. Her words, as much as Rebecca wished differently, were simply that. Words. She had no true power. But despite that, a chill ran down Sinead’s spine. She knew her mother, and she did not trust her not to find a way to manipulate the situation.
Would Kendra truly be able to stop Rebecca? Or would her mother find a way to force this like she had everythin’ else?
“So,” her mother continued, “ye will attend the ceilidh. Ye will choose one of the men that I have selected for ye. I daenae care which one—ye can simply pick the one ye like best. And ye will make him fall for ye. And then ye will nay longer be a burden to yer family. Do ye hear me, lass?”
Tears stung Sinead’s eyes, and embarrassment flooded her. She bit the inside of her cheek, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth as she tried to stop the tears from spilling over.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
I cannae cry, nae in front of her. I have to get out of the office. I have to get to the carriage. I have to go.
Her mother watched her, clearly waiting for more of a confirmation than that.
“I’ll go,” Sinead murmured.
Her voice was so soft she wondered if her mother could hear it, but as Lady Domnhall’s lupine smile widened, she knew that she had.
“Excellent,” she said, sinking back down in her chair. “I’m glad that ye saw reason, lass. We’ll make a good and powerful Lady out of ye yet. Ye’re dismissed.”
She waved her hand in front of her, a clear indication that Sinead should take her leave, and Sinead was all too happy to oblige. She did not want to spend a minute longer in her mother’s presence than she actually had to.
Sinead turned on her heel, focusing on keeping her shoulders straight as she walked out of her mother’s study. Keeping her fists clenched at her sides, she walked back through the castle corridors, following the familiar path back toward the front door.
I cannae believe she called me all this way just to embarrass me like this. Just to demand somethin’ like this from me.
As she reached the front doors of the castle, she readied herself to throw them open, but a voice floated through the atrium, bringing Sinead up short.
“Payin’ a reward, he is. For whoever can heal his sister.”
Sinead immediately recognized the voice as that of the maid who had greeted her when she arrived. It was accompanied shortly by one that she did not know, an older, raspier female voice.
“And ye think ye can heal her?” the other woman asked. “Ye’ve never healed as much as a scratch from a kitten.”
“But the money would be enough to keep me goin’ for quite a while,” the young maid argued, “and mayhaps it will lead to somethin’ a little more. I bet I can make him fall in love with me. If I save his sister, I can be the lady of his clan. That would be somethin’.”
“Which Laird is it again?” the older woman asked.
“I think the gent that came said it was Laird McIntosh?”
There was a quick inhale of breath, followed by the older woman raising her voice.
“Ellen!” she cried. “Ye cannae go runnin’ off to Clan McIntosh. Have ye nae heard about their Laird? The man is a beast. He…”
Sinead tuned out the old woman’s voice, no longer caring about what she had to say as she pushed open the doors to the castle. The moment she stepped outside with the sun streaming onto her face, she felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
The words of the maids were echoing in her ears, a plan beginning to take shape.
He’s hirin’ a healer. She said it was enough money to keep the lass goin’ for quite a while. Mayhaps it would be enough to stop me maither. Mayhaps it would be enough for me to start me own life.
“Mayhaps God has nae abandoned me,” Sinead whispered. “Mayhaps I just found a way to save meself.”