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A n hour later, Ewan found himself seated before the great fireplace in the abbey's main hall, a wooden cup of some vile-tasting but effective healing tincture warming his hands.

The brew was bitter as sin and smelled like something that belonged in a stable, but he had to admit it was working.

The throbbing in his head had subsided to a manageable ache, though his pride remained somewhat bruised.

Abbess Bethóc sat across from him in a high-backed chair, her expression carefully neutral as she regarded both him and Lileas. Her gray eyes missed nothing, and Ewan had the uncomfortable feeling that she could see straight through him to his very soul.

Lileas perched on a nearby stool like a bird ready to take flight at the first sign of danger.

She had attempted to repair her appearance, but her hair was still escaping from its braid and there were still traces of charcoal on her fingers.

She kept shooting nervous glances in his direction, as if expecting him to suddenly explode into violence.

Ewan reflected on what had transpired since first meeting his betrothed, and he had to admit he was even more determined to wed the stubborn lass.

If that made him a daft fool, then he would willingly bear the title.

Most men would have cried off by now, claiming insanity on the part of his bride, but for some reason Ewan could not walk away.

Once a MacNeil chose a path, they never looked back.

"Now then," the abbess said, "let us discuss this situation like adults."

"There's nothing to discuss," Ewan replied. He set down his cup with deliberate care, but there was steel in his green eyes. "Lileas and I are betrothed. We will be married, and that's final."

Lileas shot to her feet, her hands clenched at her sides and her eyes flashing with defiance. "Ye cannot simply make demands..."

"I can and I will." Ewan's interruption was sharp and final. He reached into his leather pouch and withdrew a folded parchment sealed with red wax. "Yer father has given me full authority in this matter."

He handed the document to Abbess Bethóc, who broke the seal and read the contents slowly, her eyebrows rising with each line.

"What does it say?" Lileas demanded, though dread was already pooling in her stomach like ice water.

The abbess looked up gravely. "It states that yer father, Laird Duncan MacDonald, gives his complete permission and authority to Ewan MacNeil to wed ye immediately, by whatever means necessary.

He grants full consent for the marriage to proceed without delay, and yer dowry has already been sent to the MacNeils.

" She paused, then added quietly, "He also mentions that the alliance between yer clans is of vital importance to the security of both. "

"No," Lileas whispered, the blood draining from her face. "He wouldn't. Not immediate marriage."

"Aye, he would and he has." Ewan's voice was hard as granite, but he did show some sympathy for her distress.

"I've seen yer work, lass, and I ken why ye ran away.

What ye have done with the still is impressive, no doubt yer contribution has been valuable to the sisters.

But now 'tis time to do yer duty for the sake of both our clans.

Neither one of us has the freedom to escape this marriage when it will bring great benefit to us all.

I've wasted enough time on this folly. Abbess, I require someone to officiate the ceremony.

Tomorrow morn if possible, then we can be on our way. "

"Now wait just a moment..." Lileas began, but Ewan cut her off with a sharp gesture.

"Ye've had three months to come to yer senses, lass.

Three months of hiding when ye should have just come to me with yer concerns.

" He rose from his chair, his imposing height allowing him to tower over her.

"Ye are mine, Lileas, by right of betrothal and yer da's blessing. This marriage will happen."

Lileas found herself taking an involuntary step backward, suddenly aware of just how large and physically imposing the man was.

"While the document does appear to give such authority," Abbess Bethóc interjected carefully, "Lileas is still under the protection of sanctuary. She must consent to leave with ye of her own free will."

Ewan's laugh was short and harsh. "Must she?

" His eyes never left Lileas's face, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"Tell me, lass, what exactly is yer alternative?

Hide here forever? Take up the order and spend yer days brewing for the sisters?

Yer father has made his wishes clear. I've made mine clear.

The only question remaining is whether ye'll be fair minded about this and put the needs of others above yer own. "

Lileas opened her mouth to object, but something in his expression stopped her cold. This was not the man who had shown interest in her work or spoken gently about her fears. This was a Highland laird claiming what was his by right, and the steel in his green eyes brooked no opposition.

"I promise ye this," Ewan continued, his voice softening only slightly. "I will take yer concerns into consideration. But make no mistake: ye will be my wife."

The air in the room seemed to thicken with tension. Lileas looked desperately to the abbess for support, but found only a measured, thoughtful expression that offered no immediate salvation.

"Perhaps," Abbess Bethóc said quietly, "Lileas and I might have a private word?"

Ewan stepped back, though his gaze remained fixed on Lileas with the intensity of a hawk watching a mouse. "Aye. But I'll expect an answer within the hour."

The threat was implicit but clear. His patience, already stretched to its limits, was at an end.

Lileas paled slightly but after a long moment, she gave a small nod. "I... I understand."

As Lileas turned to leave, Ewan called after her. "And lass?" His voice was determined. "Whatever ye've heard about me or my clan, I want ye to ken this: I'll have a mind to yer care. I'll not be a tyrant to ye."

***

I N THE ABBESS'S PRIVATE chambers, Lileas paced before the narrow window. The room was smaller and more intimate than the main hall, with a simple wooden cross hanging above the narrow bed.

"He cannot simply demand this!" Lileas burst out, whirling to face the abbess with her hands clenched into fists. "Marriage is not a transaction to be completed at a man's whim! I am not cattle to be traded between clans!"

"Is it not?" Abbess Bethóc asked quietly, settling into her chair with practiced calm. "In the eyes of the Church and the law, yer father's consent makes this entirely legal. Ewan MacNeil has every right to claim ye as his bride."

"But ye said I was under sanctuary. That I must consent," Lileas's voice rose with desperation.

"And so ye must. But child," the abbess's voice grew gentle but firm, "ye cannot remain here indefinitely. This abbey is not a permanent refuge for frightened brides. It is a house of God, meant for those called to serve."

Lileas stopped pacing, her shoulders sagging as the reality of her situation finally sank in. "So I have no choice at all."

Abbess Bethóc rose and moved to stand beside her at the window. "Ye can choose to approach this marriage with wisdom and courage, or ye can let fear rule yer decisions."

Outside the window, the abbey grounds were bathed in the golden light of early evening.

Sisters moved like dark shadows, going about their daily tasks with quiet efficiency.

It was a peaceful scene, one that had brought Lileas comfort for several months.

Now it felt like she was about to be released from a sanctuary into a cage.

"He's so... demanding. So certain he can simply order me about like a servant." Lileas's voice was small now, stripped of its earlier defiance.

"He is a Highland laird, accustomed to having his word obeyed. But I observed him carefully during yer conversation. Did ye notice how he spoke of yer work? He called it impressive. How many men would even acknowledge such things, much less show real interest?"

Lileas frowned, remembering. It was true that his reaction to her work had been different from what she'd expected. "He did seem... interested, even though I blathered on."

The abbess turned to face her fully, her gray eyes serious and intent. "Child, yer work among us has been of great benefit to the abbey, but perhaps 'tis time ye shared some of yer knowledge with others."

The truth of those words hit Lileas like a physical blow.

She had been so focused on escaping an unwanted marriage that she hadn't considered the larger implications of hiding away from the world.

Her work could benefit others. Perhaps she could even assist the MacNeils.

But only if she was free to share her ideas.

"Ye think I should marry him," she said.

"I think," the abbess said carefully, "that Ewan MacNeil may be the only man of sufficient strength to protect a woman of yer talents.

A weaker man would be threatened by yer abilities.

This one seems intrigued by them. And he still wants to marry ye despite ye almost murdering him with a piece of pipe. "

They both grinned before Lileas sighed and stared out at the cottage where she'd been so happy these past months. "And if he proves false? If he becomes a tyrant?"

"Then ye will find a way to change his mind. Ye are far more persuasive than ye ken." Abbess Bethóc's smile was small but warm, carrying genuine affection.

A soft knock interrupted their conversation, and Sister Margaret peered around the door with obvious reluctance. "Forgive me, Mother Abbess, but the MacNeil is asking if Father Benedict might be summoned from the village. He wishes to ensure everything is ready for the morn."

Lileas's face went white as parchment. "Tomorrow? He really means to marry me so soon?"

"It would seem so," the abbess replied with that same infuriating calm. "And it is a good thing ye have already made yer choice."

The choice, Lileas realized, had never really been hers to make. From the moment her father had signed that betrothal contract, her fate had been sealed. The only real choice was how she would face that fate: with courage or cowardice, with wisdom or fear.

"Aye, I'll do it," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the fear that still gripped her heart. "I'll marry him."

The abbess nodded solemnly, as if she had expected no other answer. "Then let us prepare ye for yer wedding, child. And may God grant ye both the wisdom to find happiness in this union."

As they left the chamber to begin the preparations, Lileas couldn't help but wonder if Ewan MacNeil was a man of his word. Either way, there was no turning back now.

***