Page 13

CHAPTER 13

“I beg yer pardon?” Anna’s father rasped, needing a gulp of weak ale to wash down the chunk of bread he’d almost choked on.

Jackson grinned. “I think she just said she’s made her choice.”

“But there are at least ten lairds comin’ this afternoon!” Ewan protested, as if it would somehow reflect poorly on him if his sister wasn’t ready and waiting to throw herself on their mercy.

Anna’s mother was the only one who said nothing, staring at Anna with steady consternation, a line appearing between her eyebrows. Her gaze briefly moved to Gordon and back to Anna again, the older woman’s mouth flattening into a grim line.

“Aye, well they’ll just have to be sent away again,” Jackson said, sending an encouraging wink in Anna’s direction.

Did ye ken this would happen? Anna wondered, putting on a smile to reassure her family. Did ye ken that I’d heed yer words, Jackson?

She trusted him more than she trusted anyone else at Castle MacTorrach, with the sole exception of the maid, Jane. But as she already knew that Jane wouldn’t be too pleased about the decision, she was relying on Jackson’s continued support to prevent her from losing her nerve. If he thought it was a good idea, then it had to be…

Sitting back, dabbing his mouth with a napkin, a smile finally crept onto Thomas Lane’s face. The pride of a father whose children had pleased him. “Indeed, the lairds will be sent away again,” he agreed. “I’ll explain, say a thing or two that’ll make ‘em wish they’d arrived earlier, thank them for comin’, and wish them well on the return journey.”

“When will the weddin’ be?” Louisa asked quietly, her expression unchanged.

Anna didn’t dare to glance at Gordon. “In five weeks, at Castle Lyall.”

Louisa nodded, expelling a small breath of relief. “A fair period of betrothal. Nay one could argue with that.” She cast a sharp look to her left, to silence her husband before he could make any remark. “Aye, I’d say that’s very sensible.”

“For appearances, it’s wise, so ye’ll hear nay argument from me,” Thomas replied, still wearing that delighted smile.

Evidently, he was of the opinion that the ‘betrothal’ would end in marriage no matter what, having never learned that he shouldn’t underestimate his youngest daughter. If things did not go well, Anna wouldn’t be marrying Gordon. She hoped Gordon understood that, too.

“Will ye spend yer betrothal here?” Louisa asked hopefully.

“Nay,” Gordon replied. “Castle Lyall.”

Louisa looked to Anna. “And ye’re in agreement with this?”

“I am,” Anna answered honestly.

She was rarely permitted to go beyond the castle boundaries, and certainly no further than the woods without an escort, so, if nothing else, the next five weeks would be a much-needed adventure. A chance to see a little more of the country she called home.

“And how is it that ye’ve returned to the castle this mornin’ with Laird Lyall?” Ewan interrupted, his arms folded over his chest, behaving more like a disgruntled father than their actual father.

Anna adopted a saccharine smile and reached out to take Gordon’s arm, surprised to feel his whole body stiffen at the touch. “In truth, that’s why I decided to choose him, and have nay desire to meet these other lairds.” She peered up at Gordon, fluttering her eyelashes, putting on a fine performance of smitten damsel. “I was wanderin’, as ye ken I often do of a mornin’, and a gust of wind swept away a precious letter that I had in me hand. I waded into the loch to retrieve it but me foot got stuck between some rocks. I’d still be in those icy waters if nae for His Lairdship, who happened to be ridin’ by. Me savior. Me hero.”

It wasn’t the truth, and she didn’t like to tell tall tales, but she figured it would be a more palatable truth than her almost dying in the bog. Her father constantly warned her about that spot, and she didn’t want to spend what might be her last day at Castle MacTorrach by proving that she couldn’t be trusted with her own safety.

Thomas gave an approving nod. “I’m glad ye were there, Laird Lyall.”

“I’ve nay doubt that she’d have made it out herself,” Gordon replied coolly. “But I spared her from catchin’ a chill.”

Anna stared up at her betrothed, her mouth falling open. He had no reason to say that on her behalf, but he’d said it anyway.

Remembering how he had settled his fingertips beneath her chin to close her mouth, the last time she’d stared in shock, she quickly closed her mouth again before he could repeat the gesture in front of her family. Yet, the odd feeling remained: a simmering sort of gratitude, like an ember in her chest.

Just then, Jane entered the hall, dipping into a low curtsy.

“Speak,” Thomas instructed.

“Two of the lairds have arrived, M’Laird,” Jane said, frowning as she raised her gaze and saw Anna and Gordon standing together, Anna’s arm through his.

Thomas clapped his hands together, grinning broadly. “Right, well, the two of ye had best make yerselves scarce. I’ll deal with this.” He settled his gaze on his daughter. “Indeed, lassie, I suggest ye go upstairs and start packin’ for yer journey. Heaven ken it’ll take at least two carriages for yer books alone!”

As Thomas walked out to appease the arriving lairds through the bad news they were about to receive, Anna’s hand rested on her chest, the heel of her palm circling to try and ease the tight sensation that spread between her lungs. Although she knew the betrothal period meant something, she couldn’t help but feel like her father had just kicked her out. Not for five weeks, but for good.

“Come,” Louisa said, appearing at her side and taking her arm. “I’ll help ye choose what to pack and what to leave.” She paused, her voice catching. “And daenae ever forget that this castle will always be yer home. Indeed, I insist ye leave somethin’, so ye always have a reason to come back.”

Gordon rested in the sunshine, seated beneath the window of the council chamber, letting the warmth caress his face. Had he been in his own castle, he might have lifted his patch to allow his ruined eye to feel the gentle, soothing touch of that glorious sunlight, but, considering where he was, he didn’t want to startle anyone who might wander by.

“This is an outrage, Laird MacTorrach!” a furious Laird barked from inside the council chamber, where all hell had broken loose.

“Aye, ye summon us all here with the promise of heirs, and then ye dismiss us without proper explanation—it’s a mockery, Laird MacTorrach!” interjected another.

In all, six of the ten Lairds had arrived, and not one had taken the news well. And though it might have seemed like Gordon was gloating or gaining satisfaction from hearing their protests, he was merely protecting his interests—namely, putting himself in a position where he could jump in to defend Thomas Lane if things turned truly ugly. After all, he couldn’t have anyone killing his future father-in-law.

“I have explained,” Thomas argued. “Me daughter has made her choice. I cannae be blamed if ye dinnae arrive early enough to make an impression.”

“Ye’re goin’ to let her marry the Devil of the Highlands?” someone scoffed. “Are ye quite mad? Do ye ken what he’ll do to her? Do ye ken what they say about him?”

Gordon pricked his ears, interested to see if there was a new rumor about him that he hadn’t heard before.

“He’ll roast her and eat her, and pick his teeth clean with her bones!” a different voice screeched, sounding an awful lot like Laird Glendenning. “He’ll cut her open and bathe in her blood. He’ll do… unnatural things to her, and there’ll be nay human bairns—they’ll be demons, fanged and horned, that’ll tear her apart when she births them.”

Which is it, Laird Glendenning? Gordon sighed at the ridiculousness of it. I cannae do all of them at once, now, can I?

“Are ye a gossipin’ fishwife, Laird Glendenning?” Thomas chided. “He’s nae an actual devil. I’d be surprised if he was any more unnatural than any one of ye.”

Gordon frowned, thrown by Laird MacTorrach’s generous words.

It’s nae for yer sake, he realized a moment later. After all, he was now betrothed to Thomas’ daughter; it was the older man’s duty and responsibility to wage a campaign against Gordon’s current reputation, altering it as best he could for the better. Especially considering who Thomas’ middle daughter was married to.

Tired of hearing himself talked about, Gordon was about to move out of earshot, but close enough to come running if anything went awry, when the sound of someone clearing their throat attracted his attention.

The maid who’d announced his arrival the other day stood on the garden path, a safe distance away, her head bowed. She trembled from head to toe, as if it had taken all of her courage to be standing there.

“What?” Gordon said coldly, assuming the maid was there to summon him for something or other.

She lifted her head, and there were tears in her eyes. “Me mistress willnae want me sayin’ this—none of the family will want me sayin’ this—but… someone must.” She cleared her throat again. “Lady Anna is a good lass, a kind lass, a spirited lass. If ye… harm her, if ye crush her, I’ll… I’ll…”

Gordon rose to his feet, his shadow stretching across the woman. Her eyes followed him upward, her mouth going slack as he towered to his full height.

“Ye’ll what?” he said in his usual growl, though he was truly interested to hear what threat she might make.

He took it as no insult; it served a person well to have loyal, brave staff around them. Then again, his voice and his appearance didn’t allow for any insult, anyway.

The maid shook violently. “I’ll… Well, I daenae ken what I’ll do, but… I’d give me life for that lass.” She took a nervous breath. “So, treat her well. Ye’ll nae find another like her in a lifetime of searchin’.”

Seeing an opportunity, a chance to put his bride at ease and ensure that she had a constant guard that she could trust, Gordon decided to partially reward the maid’s courage. He wouldn’t be able to watch Anna all the time, not even across the span of just five weeks, and with an unsolved threat still hanging over him, additional protection could only be of benefit.

“Pack yer things,” he instructed, his arms folded behind his back.

The maid’s eyes flew wide. “Pardon? M’Laird, ye… ye daenae have the authority to send me from me employment. Only Laird MacTorrach can?—”

“Pack yer things,” Gordon repeated. “Ye’ll join me bride eastward.”

She blinked in astonishment. “Go with M’Lady?”

“Aye. Unless ye daenae care for her as much as ye say?” he challenged.

The maid shook her head, her hand flying to her chest. “I’ll pack at once, M’Laird.”

“Good.” Gordon walked the few steps between them, and as he passed her by, he leaned in to add a warning that couldn’t be ignored, “But if anythin’ happens to her on yer watch, I do ken what I’ll do.”