Page 2 of The Dark Highlander’s Heart (Thorns Of The Highlands #2)

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T he years passed, and by the time Katherine turned nineteen, it was abundantly clear that the future Romilly spoke of would never come to pass.

By then, Angus had ceased to hope for a male heir, and became all the more obsessed with preparing Romilly to act as his implement of subtle conquest. He would observe her physical training all day, and by night, the two of them would adjourn to his study so that they might conceive their schemes until well past midnight. Sometimes Katherine would press her ear to the door as they spoke, and the details of their plotting often chilled her to the bone. They talked of destabilizing other clans from within through an arranged marriage, and wove such dark webs of manipulation and violence that Katherine could scarcely believe her ears.

Annabel’s headaches grew more severe and constant, until she remained in her chamber day and night, rarely emerging even to eat. Angus did not seem to notice. He had long since given up on enjoying her company, and now his every waking moment was dedicated to his firstborn daughter.

Romilly’s attentiveness to her younger sister waned, replaced with an almost maniacal focus on pleasing their father and ensuring the clan’s supremacy. Gone were the days when she offered any support to Katherine whatsoever. Like the rest of the family, she barely seemed to notice her sibling’s presence at all. On those rare occasions when she did, it was generally with annoyance and disdain, as though Katherine was distracting her from far more important matters.

And so Katherine roamed the castle aimlessly most days, quietly gathering sewing implements and bits of fabric, whistling to herself as she did so. When she managed to collect enough of them, she went to the stables, selected a suitable horse, and rode to various villages in the McGregor lands. There, she would gather a dozen or so of the young lasses together and instruct them on how to sew more intricate and lovely patterns than their mothers could teach them.

When Katherine began this practice, many of the mothers objected, for they felt it was presumptuous for someone else to teach their daughters how to sew. They initially believed that it was Katherine’s way of calling them inadequate and beneath her. However, they were in no position to refuse, for she was still of the clan’s ruling family, even if her fellow McGregors did not think she was of much account.

None of that reflected what was in Katherine’s heart, though. She merely wished to help, to make herself useful in any way, to feel as though her life had some purpose. When she sensed the mothers’ displeasure, she made sure to tell them that she found the dress patterns they used to be perfectly adequate as well. She merely wished to show the young ladies how to create more elaborate clothes, like the ones worn by nobles. In doing so, they might adorn themselves with fancier attire, and feel better about themselves as a result.

After a while, when the women saw that Katherine’s intentions were good, they were happy to have their daughters in attendance; indeed, many of them remained to watch and learn as well. Some of them even embraced it to the point that they became dressmakers themselves, and their husbands would ride to more distant towns and farms to sell them.

All of this made Katherine happy, but more than that, it gave her something to do. It presented a serviceable excuse to put the castle and its disagreeable inhabitants behind her, and forget her troubles for a while.

So she went about her business on a rainy and dreary day, riding to one of the nearer villages and inviting the girls to the dryness and warmth of a barn so they would not be soaked and chilly during the lesson. They were delighted to see her as always, and for the next few hours, they watched her examples and listened to her teachings, hanging on her every word.

It was good to have anyone’s prolonged attention, though Katherine would not admit that to herself as a motive for conducting these lessons. It made her feel less like a listless phantom overall.

Katherine knew she needed to leave soon, but the idea of returning to the stronghold pained her so that she searched for excuses to remain a while longer.

“Bonnie, how has yer father’s leg been faring?”

“Quite well, thank ye fae askin’!” the young girl chirped.

He had injured himself rather badly the previous month while trying to remove the stones from his field, and so had been unable to tend to his farm or chores for a while.

“And ye, Fiona?” Katherine turned to one of the skinnier lasses, with a thick head of frizzy red hair. “Have ye yet managed tae secure the affections of that lad ye had yer eye upon?”

Fiona’s face turned a deep scarlet, and she peered down at the ground bashfully. “Hamish has begun tae notice me, I think.”

At this, the other girls squealed with delight, causing poor Fiona to blush even more fiercely.

But eventually, her time with these lasses ended, as it always did, and Katherine had to say her farewells and return to the castle. Every time she did, she wondered if any of her family would notice if she simply rode in the other direction, away, forever.

She doubted it.

She had always had such musings with regard to her mother and father, but now she harbored those same doubts about her sister too. Romilly barely seemed to acknowledge her existence anymore, despite their former closeness.

These thoughts continued to traipse through Katherine’s troubled mind as she took in the familiar sights on the road back home. There were few dwellings along the way, just the occasional tree or farm, and the overall silence of it could sometimes feel oppressive to her. She supposed it was merely that she dreaded her inevitable return to the stronghold.

This time, as she approached it, she saw a strange sight awaiting her; Romilly, standing by the front gates with her arms folded and a judgmental countenance.

“Been off to see those silly peasants again, have ye?” Romilly sneered when Katherine drew close enough to hear.

Katherine dismounted, her brown hair blowing gently in the breeze as she gazed at Romilly quizzically. “They are good people,” she retorted, “and besides, what business is it of yers? My activities do ye no harm.”

“They harm our entire family,” her sister snapped, “for we are rulers, and not meant tae consort with a pack of lowborn ninnies! Because of ye, our people take us less seriously than they ought tae. Teaching them tae sew dresses and weave rugs will nae help our clan win battles or gain power!”

“There is more to life than such pursuits,” Katherine told her quietly. “Far more. I pity ye, that ye do not see it.”

“And I pity ye, that ye would prefer tae behave as a servant lass than a proper lady! Ye must learn yer place, Katherine! Ye must do more tae serve yer family!”

“My ‘family’ barely acknowledges my existence most days,” Katherine informed her archly. “Yerself included.”

To her surprise, Romilly’s face softened somewhat.

“‘Tis because we know ye have no interest in our affairs. But if that changed, if ye demonstrated that ye were willing tae take a more active role in things, then ye would be included. Sister, I know ye believe I dinnae care about ye, but I assure ye, nothing could be further from the truth. If I appear harsh, ‘tis only because I dinnae wish tae see ye follow the wrong path in life.”

“I know,” Katherine conceded. “I simply wish ye didnae feel the need tae be so bloody spiteful about it.”

She knew the words had been a mistake as soon as they left her mouth, but it was too late to take them back.

Romilly’s expression hardened again. Katherine was struck—not for the first time—by the similarities in their brown eyes, and by the differences as well; for although they were the same color, Romilly’s always seemed darker somehow, as though shadows perpetually clung to their edges.

“Spiteful, am I? Very well, do as ye please, and tae the devil with ye!” With that, she turned and stalked away.

Katherine sighed. For the briefest of moments, it seemed to her as though she might have her sister back. But then the moment vanished like a snowflake in the palm of her hand, and now she felt more alone than ever.

Later that evening, she joined the rest of the family for supper. It was one of the rare occasions when their mother chose to venture from her chamber, and so she felt it would be appropriate for her to attend as well, even though she had no appetite and was—as usual—largely ignored by the others.

As she picked at her supper, though, she slowly noticed that her father was watching her. She met his gaze, raising an eyebrow.

“Do ye intend tae starve yerself, is that it?” he growled.

“Mayhap I do,” Katherine shot back. She did her best to keep her expression neutral, but inwardly, she was quite hurt. He had barely spoken to her for weeks, and this was what he finally chose to say?

“Very well,” Romilly chimed in. “In that case, I shall ensure it doesn’t go tae waste!” She reached across the table and snatched Katherine’s plate away.

This was more than Katherine could bear. She’d had enough of tolerating her family’s meanness toward her. “Give that back! It’s mine tae eat or not, as I please!”

“In fact it is mine ,” the laird snarled, “along with everything else in this damned castle, tae do with as I wish. Ye forget yerself, Daughter.”

“Why should I not, when everyone else seems tae have forgotten me?” Katherine countered hotly.

“If ye refuse tae eat, then it ought tae go tae yer sister,” Angus insisted. “She will need all of her strength in the days ahead, and so it must be nourished. ye may sulk above an empty plate for all I care.”

“I should much prefer tae ‘sulk’ in my room!” Katherine replied, standing.

“Sit, Katherine,” Annabel said, rubbing her temples at the pain in her head. “Dinnae cause problems.”

“ye hear the way they speak tae me, ye see the way they treat me!” Katherine balked. “And ye accuse me of ‘causing problems’?”

“Yer sister spoke tae us of yer journey today,” her mother groaned. “Ye have been told over and over that it displeases us when ye mingle with the lowborn rubbish of the villages and farms.”

“At least it makes me feel useful!” Katherine retorted. “What is there for me here, but tae be ignored and mistreated?”

“There is the prospect of a marriage to a lad who will better our prospects and strengthen our clan,” Angus informed her. “That is what ye should be focused on, rather than wasting yer time with those who are beneath us.”

“Or perhaps I ought tae focus on war, bloodshed, sabotage, and other such acts of savagery, as ye and Romilly do!”

Angus’s eyes blazed, and he stood, his face twisted with rage. “Such endeavors may displease ye,” he rumbled, “but they shall save this clan.”

“Why does this clan need tae be saved?” Katherine demanded. “Are we doing so poorly that we are required tae drag other clans down? Is more money or land worth the sacrifice of our honor?”

“There is honor in power, and there is honor in victory,” her father told her. “Ye are of an age where ye ought tae understand that by now.”

“I understand is that all of yer plotting and scheming will likely end with my sister’s imprisonment or death one day.”

“I am prepared tae take any risk, make any sacrifice, for our people,” Romilly said coldly. “Can ye say the same?”

Katherine did not know how to reply to such madness.

As it turned out, however, she did not need to. Angus gestured to one of the servants at the door. “Escort my youngest daughter tae her room, and be sure that she stays there. Nay more venturing out among the peasants for her, and no more back-talk either.”

Katherine did not need to be led. She went to her chamber and slammed the door behind her, wondering if she would forever feel like a prisoner in her own home.