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S he could feel him coming right behind her as she made her way to her room.

“Dinnae come after me.”

“Keira, wait! I can explain.”

“Explain,” she echoed, as if the word sounded eerily strange to her. “Ye announced our wedding to the crowd. The only explanation ye should give is that ye had a moment of complete madness!”

“Keira!” Evander called, quickening his pace. “If ye just let me speak, ye will see why?—”

“I dinnae want to hear ye speak ever again, do ye hear me?! Leave me alone! Go away!”

She reached her door and threw it open. It banged against the wall, but before Evander could get to it, she slammed it shut behind her and locked it.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she took a few steps away from the door. She knew he could break it down—it would cost him nothing—but she hoped he would not.

“Keira, please,” he pleaded from the other side, his voice slightly muffled by the wood. “I had to announce the wedding because Arthur was going to make ye look like a?—”

“Like a wench. Is that what ye mean to say?”

“Ye’re a widow who had just been caught kissing a laird ye’re nae married to. There is nay other conclusion.”

Keira wiped the tears streaming down her face. “Oh God. I have to do this, do I nae?”

The speed at which the realization dawned on her was jarring. Her non-existent marriage had just been announced to a whole group of people she barely knew. She was certain that everyone in the castle would have heard by now. News like this traveled faster than a man on a stallion.

“I had to protect yer honor,” Evander explained.

“Protect me honor by forcing me into a loveless marriage?” Keira snapped at him, her tears falling freely now and dripping from her chin.

“I had to do something, Keira. And it was the first thing that came to me mind.”

Keira paced back and forth in her room. This was happening. This was truly happening. She had to get married to Evander. If not, she would be labeled a wench for life.

Her heart stuttered as she remembered the way the guests had stared at her, full judgment on their faces even as they said their congratulations. It wasn’t until Evander spoke that the judgment dissipated and transformed into some kind of admiration.

Was she really going through this again? Marrying just to save face and not because of love?

“Keira, please open the door and let us discuss this.”

“I have nothing to say to ye, husband ,” she hissed.

A beat of silence fell over the room, and she remained rooted to the spot, waiting for him to say something else. But nothing came forth. At least not for a while.

Evander rested his forehead against the door, his heart pounding in his chest. Part of him was still stunned by what had just happened, but the other part wanted nothing but for her to open the door.

He didn’t want to break it down—he wanted her to do it of her own accord. At least she could have some semblance of control in the middle of this madness that seemed to have sprung up on them almost out of nowhere.

“I’ll be back,” he muttered, after waiting for a few more minutes in vain.

He spun on his heels and marched down the passageway, his hands curling into fists.

He would return, but for now, he needed to find Arthur.

Evander stormed through the passageways, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the walls. He walked with purpose and precise ferocity. Red-hot anger boiled inside him, and he could not wait to unleash it. The mere thought made it flare further.

He stopped by the dining hall and looked inside. Some of the guests lingered at the table, awaiting their meals. He turned away and moved forward, stopping by the Great Hall, in the middle of the crowd.

The cèilidh was in full swing, and a lot of people had, at this point, returned to the hall to continue making merry.

Evander stood still and scanned the crowd, hoping to find Arthur. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find him. At least not here, anyway. A passing maid caught his attention, and he beckoned her over almost immediately.

“Ye. Do ye ken where Laird MacDonnell is?”

The maid furrowed her brow in confusion, opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water.

Evander sighed. “He is the one with the eye patch. Do ye remember now?”

Recognition flashed across the maid’s face. “Aye, M’Laird. He is still in the courtyard.”

“The courtyard?” Evander echoed, his voice wavering.

“Aye.” The maid nodded and then scurried away.

Evander brushed the specks of dust off his clothes and headed out of the castle toward the courtyard. He pushed the door open, and the cool evening air immediately hit his face. It was not fully dark, but the stars were beginning to illuminate the sky, and the moon was slowly rising to its peak.

He found Arthur almost immediately.

His friend was still standing where he and Keira had been just a few minutes ago. At least before he came out of nowhere to make the dastardly announcement.

Arthur turned around and saw him. His eyes widened. “It seems I have forgotten just how much of a problem solver ye are. The way ye immediately took control of the situation was quite admirable, I must say.”

Evander clenched his jaw and moved closer to him. The grass crunched beneath his boots as he approached his friend, his hands balled into fists.

“Why did ye do that?” he asked, anger now evident in his voice as he stopped right in front of Arthur.

“Look, Evander, before ye?—”

Evander swung. His right fist connected hard with Arthur’s jaw.

Arthur’s head swiveled to the side, and a grunt escaped his lips as he staggered backward. Evander shook his hand, feeling the impact reverberate through his fingers.

Arthur coughed and steadied himself. “I agree. I deserved that.”

Evander swung again, this time with the other hand. Arthur stumbled onto the grass, and Evander shook his hand again, wincing at how hard his friend’s jaw was. It was like punching a stone.

“The Lord kens ye deserve more than that,” he spat, the words escaping his mouth like venom.

Arthur wiped the blood off his lips and rose to his feet again. He was clearly not fighting back, not even trying to avoid the punches, which somehow angered Evander more.

“I had to do it, Evander. Or else ye were never going to do it.”

“Never going to do what?” Evander fumed. “And I would greatly advise that ye be careful what ye say next.”

“Ye care for this woman. Ye dinnae want to admit it, but ye do. And I dinnae ken why ye keep punishing yerself with yer braither’s death, but ye?—”

“Did I nae just say to be careful what ye say next?”

Arthur raised his hands in surrender. “All I’m saying is that ye deserve happiness, too. After all these years, if ye still believe ye dinnae deserve love, ye are wrong.”

Evander swiped a hand across his brow. “Ye still dinnae get it, do ye?”

Arthur cocked his head.

“It doesnae matter whether I love her or nae. I cannae be the kind of man she wants. Do ye nae see? Shona thought me braither was the kind of man she wanted until he died and she had to raise Tommy on her own. The same fate awaits me.”

“Whether or nae the same fate awaits ye is irrelevant. Ye still deserve happiness after everything ye have been through in the past few years. Ach, in the past few weeks . If that happiness is Keira’s love, and if that is as much as ye can get, then so be it.”

Evander swallowed, and a tense silence ensued. The sound of music and chatter drifted out of the castle, adding more eeriness to the somber night.

“She is quite distraught, do ye ken that? This was her last straw.”

“I apologize. That was never me intention.”

“Ye forced me to announce a wedding that now has to take place tomorrow in front of everybody. A wedding I didnae even ken whether she wanted or nae. What the devil did ye think would have happened?”

Arthur sighed but said nothing.

Evander ground his teeth in despair and looked past his friend, across the courtyard and toward the horizon, where the night sky touched the mountains.

This was never how it was supposed to go. Tonight, he was supposed to find her a husband among the eligible bachelors who were dancing in the Great Hall. Now, he couldn’t. Now, he had managed to cause her even more pain than he had intended.

“I am certain she will come around.” Arthur interrupted his spiraling thoughts with words that, although encouraging, grated on his nerves at the moment.

“Ye are certain?”

“Something tells me she will,” Arthur insisted.

Evander scoffed and turned around. “I dinnae have time for this.”

With that, he proceeded back to the castle and right to Keira’s quarters.

His feet dragged as he walked, ignoring the maids who acknowledged him with either more curiosity or surprise in their eyes as they walked past. He ignored all of them. There was only one thing on his mind now, and that was Keira.

He stopped before her door and knocked gently, his feet restlessly tapping on the floor. “Are ye ready to let me in now, Keira?”

Silence greeted his words.

At first, he thought she must have left the room in his absence, but then he heard footsteps, and a shadow briefly filled the space beneath the door.

“Keira?” he called again, his voice strained.

“Go away,” Keira’s voice rang out, albeit muffled by the wood. “I dinnae want to talk to ye.”

“Ye have to, Keira.”

“Right. Because ye’re me husband now.”

“Keira—” Evander began.

“Are ye going to force me to open the door? Or do ye plan to break it down again? I cannae afford to keep calling the servants to fix the door, so please, I am begging ye—leave me alone.”

“Ye have nay idea how sorry I am, Keira. I should have been there for ye. If I’d kenned what Arthur was planning, I wouldnae have let him do it. Or even come to the cèilidh. Let me in, please, and we can find a way to fix this.”

“I said, go away.” He heard a sniffle. “I have been shamed enough for one day.”

“Keira—”

“I was a widow. I was fine on me own. If I didnae find a husband at the cèilidh, I would have found one later and nay one would have minded. I would have returned to me room and been completely fine on me own. Now, people would think I am some philandering wench who used ye to—” She broke off.

Evander could hear it, the pain in the silence that settled between them. It tortured him immensely.

He leaned against the door and sank to the floor, not caring that someone might walk past and see him in such a state. Now was not the time to worry about that, and for now, he did not plan to.

“So, ye do want to marry someone else? Is that the issue? Anyone but me?”

Keira sniffled again. “Ye still dinnae understand, do ye? Me previous marriage was a loveless one. The only thing that saved me was that it didnae last long enough for me to realize it. It is happening all over again. With ye. Ye dinnae intend to marry me. This will just be another marriage of duty.”

“But I gave ye back yer castle. That should count for something, should it nae?” Evander pointed out.

Well, maybe not the entire castle, but he gave her the most of it.

“Ye condemned me to a loveless marriage, Evander. One I never even agreed to in the first place.”

Evander sighed, beginning to slowly understand the problem. No matter how hard he wished he could make it all go away, they were both in it now, and they would have to face it together.

“We’ll find a way around it, I promise. I will do well by ye as yer husband, and ye’ll get used to it.”

Silence again, almost intrusive, almost too thick to assume a physical form. Then, Keira’s sigh followed.

“Go to bed, Evander. We have a long day tomorrow.”

“Keira, I ken how hard this must be. Again, I apologize for Arthur’s behavior.”

“What’s done is done. We shall get married tomorrow. It is fine. Just dinnae be surprised if the tapestries return.”

He slowly rose to his feet, despair written all over his face. Slowly, he turned around and made his way back to his quarters. She wouldn’t open the door today, no matter how much he tried. The least he could do for now was give her the space she needed.

As he walked, thoughts of marriage slipped into his mind like a knife slicing a block of butter.

How in the name of God did he even get here?

What happened in the past few days to push him into such a position?

One minute Keira was avoiding him like the plague—she wouldn’t even be in the same room as him and wouldn’t even as much as see him—and now she was getting married to him the next day under the most inconvenient circumstances.

This was unfair to both of them, but it was especially unfair to her. He blamed himself for putting her in this situation in the first place. If he hadn’t organized the cèilidh, her honor would never have been at stake in the first place.

“Damn ye, Arthur,” he whispered as he got to his door and pushed it open. Though he knew it wasn’t his friend’s fault that he couldn’t let Keira go “Damn me to hell.”