Page 53

SEATED AT THE laird’s table, fingers clasped around a cup of wine, Greer watched her father exchange pleasantries with Iver Mackay.

Alexander Forbes had been civil with Kerr and dismissive with Brodie, yet he was charming with Iver.

Of course, Iver was almost his equal. He was a chieftain rather than a clan-chief, yet he was laird of a vast tract of land and carried considerable influence upon Kintyre Peninsula. They’d met before too, the previous year at Castle Varrich, and were catching up on each other’s news.

Eight of them sat at the table this afternoon: the laird and lady of Dun Ugadale, Brodie, Kerr, Sheena, Rose, and Greer and her father. The trestle tables below the dais were empty as supper was still some way off.

Outdoors, the afternoon was stiflingly hot, yet inside the windowless hall, it was shadowy and cool.

After a brief exchange, Iver leaned back in his carven chair and fixed Greer’s father with a level look. “A visit from ye is always welcome, Alex … even an unannounced one. However, to what do we owe yer presence here today?”

The clan-chief smiled and took a deep draft from his cup. He then held it up, indicating for someone at the table to refill it.

Swiftly, Rose got to her feet, took a clay jug, and replenished their visitor’s ale.

“Fear not, Iver … I’m not here with news of war” —he glanced over at Greer then and her breathing grew shallow— “but to collect my daughter.”

“I thought I was to stay until the end of the summer, Da?” Greer asked, speaking for the first time since they’d amassed in the hall. As always, when she spoke to her father, she kept her voice gentle and demure. Alexander Forbes was a dominant man who liked his womenfolk meek.

“Aye, well, that has changed.”

Greer swallowed. “Why?”

A groove appeared between her father’s eyebrows. Two questions in a row weren’t appreciated, yet the dread that tightened under Greer’s ribcage had made her bold.

“With the political situation so unstable at present … I have made some powerful allies in the north,” Alexander Forbes replied.

“I thought ye already had strong connections there?” Iver spoke up, cocking an eyebrow. “Ye name Niel Mackay a friend, do ye not?”

“I do,” the Forbes clan-chief replied with a cool smile. “Yet both Niel’s sons are not yet ready to take wives … so we cannot form the alliance I seek.” His gaze flicked back to Greer. “Robert Sutherland’s firstborn, on the other hand, is of age.”

Silence fell at the long table, rippling out.

Although she was aware that her father’s announcement had surprised them all, Greer’s attention never left her father’s face. She then frowned. Hades, her father was speaking in riddles this afternoon. He was just confusing her now.

A heartbeat later, he solved the mystery. “I have agreed that ye shall wed Malcolm Sutherland, two days after Samhuinn.”

Greer tightened her hold on her untouched cup of wine. Her father’s declaration bewildered her. Hadn’t he agreed to let her at least meet potential husbands before he promised her to one of them?

She looked away from her father then and took in the faces of those seated at the table.

Iver Mackay’s face turned stony, while a groove appeared between Bonnie’s eyebrows. The others at the table all wore stern expressions, including Brodie.

She recalled then that Bonnie once mentioned there was bad blood between the Mackays and the Sutherlands. The two Highland clans had feuded for years now, and Niel Mackay and Robert Sutherland hated each other.

Greer cleared her throat. She didn’t want to question her father’s decision in front of everyone, yet she had to know why he’d agreed to this betrothal without consulting her first.

“I thought we’d agreed that I was to choose a suitor at the end of the summer?” she said, careful to keep her tone low and respectful.

“We did … but that was before Robert Sutherland offered me a blood alliance and three head of his finest cattle.”

“But I’ve never met Malcolm Sutherland.”

Irritation flitted across her father’s face. “That matters not, lass.”

The dread that had been tightening within her ever since she’d watched her father ride into Dun Ugadale now coiled into large knots. He’d just ridden roughshod over her wishes.

Her throat tightened as panic surged. Meanwhile, her father glanced over at Iver, a smile tugging at his lips. “I thank ye, Mackay, for taking such good care of my daughter during her stay.”

Iver nodded, although his dark-blue gaze was now veiled. “Lady Greer is a welcome guest.”

“Aye,” Bonnie spoke up softly. Her eyes glistened as if she was on the brink of tears. “She is the sister I have always longed for.”

Wretchedness clutched at Greer. Lord, she wasn’t ready to leave Dun Ugadale yet.

“Aye, well, the summer was always going to end sooner or later,” Alexander Forbes replied dismissively. He then glanced back at his daughter, his steel-grey eyes boring into Greer. “Ye had better go upstairs and start packing yer things, lass … we leave at dawn tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry to see ye go so soon, Greer.”

“Aye … as am I.”

Greer shifted in the window seat, dragging her gaze from the view beyond the open window.

The day was waning, and a glorious golden sunset streaked across the sky. Its light burnished the world. Its loveliness had distracted Greer from her looming departure, although Bonnie’s words dragged her back to the present once more.

An ache rose under her breastbone, and she raised her hand, rubbing her knuckles against it. Sorry couldn’t begin to describe it. She was devastated to leave so soon.

Bonnie sat opposite, her lovely face strained this evening.

Rose and Sheena had joined them earlier yet had now both departed, leaving the two friends alone.

Inghinn was already busy upstairs, packing her mistress’s things into trunks, and Greer would rejoin her presently.

However, for the moment, she lingered in the ladies’ solar.

She felt odd in the aftermath of her father’s announcement, detached from her surroundings. Aye, she’d been shocked to learn of his plans for her, yet now she just felt … wooden.

“There are so many things I haven’t yet shown ye,” Bonnie went on. “I wanted us to plan more rides out with Rose, to visit Lennox and Davina for a day or two, and to go on a shopping trip together in Ceann Locha. I thought we still had a few more weeks before us … but we’ve run out of time.”

Greer swallowed. “We have.”

Bonnie’s gaze searched her face as if she were trying to read her thoughts. “Ye haven’t said anything of yer betrothal.”

Greer sighed. “What is there to say? It is decided.”

Earlier, Sheena had said that, Sutherland or not, it was an excellent match. She then went on to add that she would have been grateful had her father worked so hard to find her such a worthy husband.

Greer hadn’t replied.

She didn’t need Sheena Mackay telling her how to feel or respond. She hadn’t obstructed her father, had she? No, but she hadn’t gushed either. Her quietness told them all that his plans upset her.

“Do ye know anything of Malcolm Sutherland?” Greer asked then, trying to focus on the future. “I suppose ye haven’t met him either.”

Bonnie’s features tightened. “I have actually.”

Greer’s gaze widened. “Ye have ?”

“Aye, we met around a year and a half ago … he attended the same ball that Iver did in Stirling.”

Greer sat up straight. “Why didn’t ye say anything earlier?” Indeed, they’d been sitting in here for at least two hours, attempting to work on their sewing, embroidery, and weaving projects before casting them aside.

Bonnie shrugged, her manner awkward now. “It’s not really my place.”

“Of course, it is.” Greer slid off the window seat and crossed to her friend, pulling up a stool opposite her. “So … what did ye think of him?”

Bonnie cleared her throat, looking even more uncomfortable than earlier. “Mother Mary, I shouldn’t have admitted to this.”

Greer frowned. “Why not? Is he hideously ugly?”

Bonnie snorted. “Malcolm is comely enough … a big man with brown hair and blue eyes.”

“Well then, does he have the manners of a goat?”

Bonnie pulled a face. Then, sighing deeply, she sank back in her chair and regarded Greer. “Do ye want the truth?”

“Always,” Greer replied without hesitation.

“Ye won’t like it.”

Misgiving hardened in Greer’s stomach. But if her friend had ill tidings about the man her father had promised her to, she’d better hear of it.

Silence fell in the ladies’ solar as the two women looked at each other. Suddenly, all their weeks of joy and laughter seemed far behind them.

Some topics couldn’t be made light of—and this was one.

“Malcolm Sutherland is a brute,” Bonnie said eventually, shattering the silence. Greer flinched at this summation. However, her friend hadn’t finished. “My acquaintance with him was short, yet it was enough to last me a lifetime. He is foul-mannered and a bully.”

Greer murmured an oath under her breath. “Ye had better tell me the rest of it then,” she muttered.

Bonnie sighed. “On our way back from Stirling, our paths crossed with him at a tavern in Doune. There he insulted me gravely” —Bonnie grimaced at the memory— “There was a brawl afterward, which ended with Iver holding a knife to Malcolm’s throat and extracting an apology.”

Silence fell after this admission.

Queasiness rolled over Greer. “God’s teeth,” she murmured. “Whom has Da promised me to?”

“A clan-chief’s son,” Bonnie replied, her voice unusually bitter. “One who shall inherit his father’s domain.”

Their gazes met once more. “I don’t suppose ye will tell me exactly what Malcolm said to ye?” Greer asked. There was still a part of her that didn’t want to believe her friend’s words, a part that couldn’t accept her father had made a match without considering her happiness in some way.

Bonnie’s mouth thinned before she shook her head. “Ye don’t need to hear the ugly words,” she said stiffly. “Yet I can assure ye they were bad enough that Iver had to fight him.”

Bile surged up then, stinging Greer’s throat. Launching herself off her stool, she crossed to the window. Gripping the stone edge, she stared out, desperately fighting the nausea that churned inside her. “God help me,” she gasped.

The sense of betrayal was crushing. Her father didn’t care what sort of man he promised her to, just as long as he got his coveted alliance.

There was a scuffing noise, and then Bonnie was at her side, her arm encircling Greer’s waist. “Go to yer father … now … and tell him that ye will not wed Malcolm Sutherland.”

“It’s too late,” Greer gasped. “He’s already given his word … to go back on it would bring dishonor to our clan.”

“But—”

“No,” Greer cut Bonnie off, desperation clawing at her now. “Ye didn’t grow up in my world, Bonnie … ye don’t know how things are in my family. I can’t defy my father. My fate has been decided now. There is no escaping it.”