Page 14

CHAPTER 14

“Are ye quite certain about this?” Anna’s mother asked in a low, anxious voice, taking Anna to one side. “Nae all the other lairds have returned home in a temper. There’s still time to see what the last few have to offer.”

It was the morning after the betrothal had been agreed and, as servants hurried by with wooden trunks and carefully wrapped packages of her things, Anna put on a courageous smile and nodded at her mother.

“I’m certain, Mama,” she promised. “Remember, it’s just a betrothal. If we daenae like each other, I’ll come right home.”

Louisa chewed her lip, glancing down the hallway as if to check that the coast was clear. “Dinnae say that to yer faither. Swear to me ye willnae say that to him.”

“He kens it’s only five weeks,” Anna insisted, though she understood her mother’s unspoken meaning: if her father believed that this was truly just a test of compatibility, with the chance that Anna might return at the end of it, he would alter the conditions of the agreement. Indeed, he’d likely have Anna and Gordon wed there and then.

“Anna…”

“Very well,” Anna replied, looping her arm through her mother’s. “I promise I willnae mention my potential return to Faither. We’ll leave it as a surprise, if it comes to it.”

Louisa released a nervy breath. “If it does come to it, ye must only write to me of yer choice. I’ll arrange for discreet guards to come and fetch ye, and yer faither willnae ken a thing ‘til ye’re already back in yer room.” She paused and suddenly pulled her daughter into a hug, squeezing tight. “But if ye daenae like each other, daenae try to make it work. If ye’re nae a good match, promise me ye will come home, that ye willnae be stubborn.”

“I’m makin’ a lot of promises this mornin’,” Anna said with a forced laugh, as she held her mother back just as tightly. “But aye, of course I promise ye that. I might be stubborn, Mama, but I’m nae stupid.”

Her mother chuckled at that. “Aye, I suppose nae.”

Anna gave her mother one last squeeze and pulled back, knowing that if she lingered upstairs any longer, she might lose her nerve completely.

Packing her belongings throughout the previous day had been a welcome distraction, but it hadn’t been a restful night at all. Her dreams had twisted into nightmares of being pursued through a scorched wasteland by a horned man with a flicking tail, an army of black-eyed demons following behind. And the dread hadn’t faded with the dawn, the realization of what she was about to embark upon seeming all too overwhelming in the stark daylight.

It doesnae have to be more than five weeks, if that’s what I want, she told herself, determined to believe it.

“Come, then,” she said, sighing out a tense breath. “We should make our way downstairs, else Faither might come lookin’ for us and think ye’re pourin’ trouble in me ear.”

Louisa eyed her sadly, leaning in to press a kiss to her daughter’s cheek. “Sweet Anna—mercy, I daenae ken how I’m goin’ to let ye go.” She shook her head. “I thought I had longer.”

“Nay matter what happens, Mama,” Anna promised, “I’ll be back soon. Temporarily or permanently, I’ll be back soon.”

Laird Glendenning was still sniffing around like the runt of the litter, getting in the way of the servants who were attempting to pack Anna’s things onto the waiting carriages. Thus far, it looked like everything would fit in two, though Gordon reasoned there might not be any actual room for his bride.

“Anyone would think ye dinnae have anythin’ of yer own at Castle Lyall!” Jackson called amiably from the top of the nearest carriage, where he was moving trunks around, getting them to fit more neatly.

Gordon appreciated the attempt at friendliness and attempted some of his own in reply. “They wouldnae be as fine.”

“Come now, ye’re bein’ modest!” Jackson remarked. “Ye must be one of the wealthiest clans in Scotland, nae just the Highlands, by now.”

Rolling his sleeves up to give his hands something to do, Gordon shrugged. “Me wealth is put into the clan, nae me.”

“Very noble of ye.”

Gordon cast the man a look, uncertain of whether Jackson was mocking him or not. He didn’t seem to be, and Gordon relaxed. “Naught noble about it. A Laird is just a steward and guardian by another name.”

“Ye ought to teach me braither that before ye depart,” Jackson said, struggling with a square box and a gap that was just a bit too small. “When he’s Laird, I wouldnae be surprised if there’s a gatherin’ every other week. He likes other lairds to think well of him, ye see, which is why he’s none too pleased that most of the lairds left in such a foul mood.”

Gordon’s stony gaze fell on Laird Glendenning once more. “Aye, most .”

Jackson chuckled, possessed of an easy manner that suggested no hardship, and a man who hadn’t faced other men in battle. “Suppose he thinks me sister might change her mind at the last moment. Ye have to admire his blind hope. Then again, if ye believe what they say about his maither, I imagine he was told nae to bother returnin’ if he dinnae return with me sister.”

I willnae admire a thing about the weasel. Gordon held his tongue; it was beneath him to make such petty insults, particularly to a man who would no doubt receive an earful from his mother.

An unexpected melancholy pinched the center of Gordon’s chest, knowing that his own mother wouldn’t be there to welcome him home to Castle Lyall. Nor did he have his brother to tease him or congratulate him, or his father to cheer his return and to make his bride feel like she was already part of the family.

“Havin’ second thoughts?” Jackson asked, clearly misinterpreting the look on Gordon’s face.

“Nay,” Gordon grumbled, shaking off the sad sting of his situation.

He still had his uncles and his cousin; they would be enough of a welcome party for his bride.

At that moment, there was something of a ruckus in the main courtyard, the residents of Castle MacTorrach crowding around, appearing on every possible battlement and balcony. Some were weeping, some were holding up handkerchiefs to wave, some were calling out well wishes, some were glaring at Gordon, muttering amongst themselves.

“I thought ye’d all be glad to see the back of me!” Anna’s familiar voice called out, brimming with her good humor. “Ye’re all safe from me mischief, at long last!”

Laughter rippled across the courtyard in the most astonishing display that Gordon had ever beheld. His own clan respected him and were glad of him, that was true enough, but he’d never had even one of them laugh at a jest or shed a tear at his departure, much less his entire castle.

“Ye’ll be missed despite yer mischief!” someone shouted down from the battlements.

“ Because of yer mischief!” someone else corrected cheerily, to the amusement of everyone gathered.

Anna waved their kind words away. “Aye, well I promise, nae one of ye will miss me as much as I’ll miss ye. Behave yerselves in me absence, eh, so me dear maither and faither can go on believin’ that I was the trickster, and ye were all innocent!”

More laughter circled the courtyard, every face gazing at Anna with the fondness of… family.

Will she have the same effect upon me own people?

Gordon’s father had been beloved, striking a balance between firm and fair, always kind and generous with a cheery manner about him. When crossed, he had been formidable, but it was rare that someone had dared to cross him. Gordon’s brother would have been the same sort of laird; Gordon was certain of that.

Instead, they got me.

Perhaps this union would be better for his clan than he’d thought. Perhaps Anna was precisely what his people needed, to fill in the gaps that he didn’t have the humor or affection to fill.

“I leave ye with love!” Anna called out, putting a hand to her heart. “Dinnae forget me too quickly, eh?”

Her father appeared at her side, ushering her toward the waiting carriages like he thought Gordon might depart without her. But Thomas was all smiles as they got closer, beaming as if he was the one who’d just won a tournament.

“If I’d kenned this auction business would work so well, I’d have done it years ago,” Thomas said, nudging his daughter toward Gordon. “Aye, I’ll have to smooth some ruffled feathers with the disgruntled lairds, but—in truth—there are always feathers to be unruffled. We’ll all survive it.”

Gordon said nothing, observing Anna as she waved to the castle residents, blowing kisses and smiling as if she were just going on a brief excursion.

Just then, Laird Glendenning surged forward, seizing hold of Anna’s hand. “I regret that I dinnae take the opportunity to make me bid before Laird Lyall,” he said, bowing his head over Anna’s hand. “And I cannae say I understand, even now, how the auction was supposed to work, but I wish ye a happy marriage.”

The blond-haired boy—for he was no man in Gordon’s eyes—dipped his head further, as if he meant to kiss Anna’s hand.

A rumbling snarl sounded in the back of Gordon’s throat.

With a start, Laird Glendenning dropped Anna’s hand, unkissed, and stumbled back a step or two. He bowed his head so far that his chin touched his chest, his freckled cheeks flushing red, either unwilling or unable to raise his gaze to meet Gordon’s disapproval.

“Aye, Lady Anna, I wish ye… good luck,” Laird Glendenning concluded quietly, his voice a note too high.

Anna offered him a sympathetic smile that he didn’t see. “Thank ye, Laird Glendenning.” She turned a cooler gaze toward Gordon. “I suspect I shall need it.”

Gordon ignored her light jab, taking possession of the hand that the younger laird had released. Without a word, he guided her into the nearest carriage, but as she moved to withdraw her hand, he brought it roughly to his lips.

Her eyes widened in surprise, her mouth parting as she stared down at his mouth against her skin.

Did ye think I’d leave it unclaimed after that laird’s attempt?

Letting her hand fall, he didn’t linger to see her settle herself among the boxes and trunks of her belongings. Instead, turning sharply, he strode off to where his stallion waited impatiently.

Climbing into the saddle, hoping it would be a long, long while before he had any reason to leave his own castle and lands again, Gordon clicked his tongue and set off for home: one bride and, apparently, all her worldly goods heavier than when he had departed.