Page 2 of Taken by the Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #2)
Lily found Valerie a short while later. Her eldest sister was weary but pleased.
“Maither and bairn are both doin’ well. The little lass just woke up and had her first meal, and everything went smoothly.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Valerie took a deep breath and tried to smile, but her elder sister was already looking at her intently. Even exhausted from several hours of assisting Brigid through labor, Lily had a keen eye.
“Are ye all right? Ye look…” She pursed her lips, her gaze flicking toward the Great Hall. “That disturbance earlier. Did something happen?”
Valerie sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to fool her elder sibling.
“Laird MacOlley was here, demandin’ I accept his proposal.
I tried to put him off, but… Lily, he threatened Brigid and the bairn.
I cannae let him harm the bairn or kill Conall.
He demanded… nae more than seven days, and I must go to him. ”
“That doesnae mean ye have to go.” Lily shook her head. “Ye ken well enough that we would all fight for ye—all of Clan MacKane and anyone who pledged loyalty to the Blackwood name. Ye dinnae have to…”
“Aye, I do. I ken ye’d fight for me if I asked, but I also ken this—Clan MacOlley has as much wealth and resources as Clan MacKane.
And they can be more ruthless. Laird MacOlley could easily purchase the services of enough mercenaries and brigands to outnumber Conall’s men two or three times over.
I dinnae want to—nay, I cannae risk the confrontation. ”
Lily tried to say something, but Valerie rose and dusted off her skirt.
“If I’m to make a wedding dress, I’ll need to get started soon. And if I’m to find a way out of this—though I dinnae see how—then I need some time to think.”
“Valerie…”
She offered her sister a brave smile that they both knew was false and embraced her gently. “Stay here and look after Brigid and the bairn. I’ll nae be gone long—just into town.”
The trip into town was not a long one, and soon she’d arrived at the seamstress’s shop.
The shop boasted a fairly large selection of fabrics—some from traders that Conall supported, some recycled from the castle, and some that had come from the folk of her village and the few who remained loyal to the Blackwood name—gifts and tributes to the new Laird of their territory.
Valerie browsed through the selection, but none of the fabrics appealed to her. Either they were too plain, or the color was unsuitable for her complexion, or they were too ornate and uncomfortable-looking.
Or maybe I hate them all because of what they represent. A loss of my freedom and my independence. And likely, my family, for I dinnae believe that Laird MacOlley will let me visit my sisters or receive them. He’s far too possessive and controlling for that.
The words rang true in her mind, and she forced herself to push them aside. After all, it didn’t matter. Laird MacOlley was a determined man, and if she could not find a way out of his clutches, then she might as well choose the fabric for her wedding gown.
Her meanderings took her close to where a group of seamstresses—the town seamstress, her two apprentices, and a traveling seamstress from the south who had come into town with the latest cloth merchant—were deep in conversation.
Valerie paused, listening with idle interest to their conversation as she continued browsing the fabrics.
“… heard he’s a perfect beast—nae even his clansfolk can stand to be near him. Ye couldnae pay me to endure his presence for a day, let alone a week.”
“Aye. And he’s so violent… they say he tossed his last tailor out of a window! There’s nae a seamstress or tailor within three leagues who would dare go near him! Why, one accidental stab of a pin and ye might get killed!”
“They say his home is so gloomy that it might be cursed. He might be cursed. It isnae a place I would venture, nor would any woman or man with good sense.”
The conversation was interesting, even the snippets Valerie caught while she searched through fabric bundles. It was even somewhat amusing to think of how the rumors might have grown with the tale, for surely a man could not be so ill-tempered as they were making him out to be.
Suddenly, a hand fell on her shoulder, and an oily, all-too-familiar voice murmured in her ear, “Shopping for the fabric of yer weddin’ dress already? It is a welcome change to see ye behavin’ like an obedient bride.”
Heart pounding in her ears, Valerie turned to face Laird MacOlley. How he had discovered she was there, she had no idea, but the sight of him, for the second time that day, made her stomach churn.
Does the man have nothing better to do than stalk and harass me?
She forced a smile onto her face, even as she stepped away from his grubby hand. The other women, she noted, had dispersed like leaves in the wind, leaving her to face her tormentor alone.
She could appreciate the wisdom of their actions, even if a part of her wished that at least one of them had stayed nearby.
“I am indeed shopping, My Laird, but I’m nae yer bride just yet.”
“But ye will be. Only seven days before our union is official, nay? So there’s nay reason to protest. Soon, we will be together.” The way his voice curled over the words made her shudder in disgust. “Is that nae correct, my dear?”
“It is. I… I am just… lookin’ forward to the alliance between our clans and our kinfolk. I suppose I’m a bit overwhelmed by the idea…”
Laird MacOlley laughed, and the sound made her cringe inwardly. “Och, my dear. It isnae the alliance that I’m anticipating, and ye should be thinking more of the wedding night than the formalities. Do ye nae agree?”
“I… hadnae thought about it.”
I didnae want to think about it at all.
Valerie kept that thought to herself.
“Ye should. I assure ye, I am looking forward to it with great anticipation.” Laird MacOlley leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he murmured the last words, a mocking parody of a kiss.
The leering expression that came over his handsome features, before he stepped back and smoothed them into that mask of polite good humor, made her want to empty the contents of her stomach.
She watched him walk away, exiting the shop with his usual lazy stride, and clenched her hands around the basket she held.
Enough was enough. It didn’t matter where—she had to find somewhere to escape the man, even if it was only for three or four days.
She didn’t care if she had to commandeer the weather-worn hulk of one of her father’s old ships, if she had to become a pirate wench, or if she had to row across the sea in a leaky, old lifeboat—she would escape.
Even living with wild beasts was preferable.
An idea came to her then.
Valerie turned to the traveling seamstress. “Ye mentioned a man in need of a seamstress—a beast that ye wouldnae dare to approach. Tell me his name.” A small, tight smile curved her mouth. “I think I would like to try my luck with him.”