by Annis Reid
She shook away those thoughts and turned back to the task at hand. Managing this stairway, for Pete’s sake.
Boy, was she overdressed. Her instincts were right. This was a dinner gown. That didn’t stop her from holding her head high as she descended into the entry hall, reminding herself of who she was supposed to be. The wife of the future laird—at least, for now. Until the priest showed up.
Where was Leith? She looked around when she reached the bottom of the stairs, her heart sinking. This entire entrance was supposed to be for his benefit, and he wasn’t even anywhere in sight. Only servants and guards, all of whom threw looks of surprise her way.
“Have ye seen Leith MacManus?” she asked a random girl who carried a bucket of water and looked like she was already exhausted this early in the morning.
“Aye,” the girl muttered, sidestepping Melissa as she continued on her way. Nobody would slow her down.
“Uh, thanks,” Melissa whispered at the girl’s back. So she wouldn’t find any help from the staff. Terrific.
Again, she had the sense of being completely alone. Lost. Adrift. She needed him too much. All she could do was wait, wringing her hands and chewing her lip as the household went on its way all around her.
She might as well have not existed at all.
17
What was taking her so long?
Leith paced, hands behind his back, counting his steps as a means of bringing his thoughts together. Were it not for this, he might lose himself to dread.
She was a lamb among wolves in this house. He knew it now, felt it with every accusatory glance he withstood as the household went about its business all around him. Everyone would be against her.
The lass was correct. He ought to have taken her away in the night. When would he learn to listen?
But no. Only cowards ran, men without honor. No one could ever accuse him of being without honor, not ever. It was all a man had, after all.
He stroked his chin, remembering the way his whiskers had rubbed against the soft skin of Melissa’s hand. If only his heart did not clench so at the slightest memory of her. Nothing had taken place between them—nothing unseemly, at any rate—yet he could scarcely breathe when he recalled their brief, tender moments.
Perhaps it was for the best that nothing more was to come of their acquaintance. It might very well kill him.
“Och, there he is!” Donald’s booming voice filled the entry hall, echoing in the great space as he crossed the floor and threw his arms around Leith. “The happy groomsman!”
“Quiet yourself, man,” Leith hissed, looking about. It seemed none present took notice, though he knew appearances were not always to be believed.
The fact was, he had all but forgotten his cousin after they parted ways at the bend in the road. Donald was utterly unaware of what had taken place since then.
As such, Leith took him by the arm and dragged him out of that bustling, open area and into a small antechamber just beyond. The room was dark, heavy draperies closed against the early morning sun. This room was rarely used, he noted, a thick layer of dust clinging to a few pieces of furniture strewn about, the air dry and stale.
“What are ye on about?” Donald laughed. “Dinna tell me ye have managed to convince MacNeill that ye will not wed his fair daughter.”
Leith did something then that he had never done before, either to his cousin or to any other man. He clamped a hand over his mouth, his other hand holding Donald by the back of the neck to keep him still. “For once in your life, hold your tongue and listen.”
He then shared the entire tale, speaking quickly and in barely a whisper. He neglected to tell his cousin of Melissa’s true life, her real life, knowing it was too great a chance to take even with one he trusted as implicitly as he trusted Donald.
His vision adjusted to the lack of light, and by the time he finished, he could see the surprise in Donald’s eyes over the top of his hand.
Only then did Leith release his cousin, taking a backward step and lifting his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “I simply had to try.”
“Ye told them she was your wife?” Donald’s mouth hung open in frank wonder. “Even I would not have thought of it.”
“As I said, there was nothing to do but try. I dinna think ye take me at my word, cousin. There is little else in the world I would wish to do less than wed her.”
Donald nodded, folded his thick arms, his brow furrowing in thought. “Niall MacNeill will not accept it,” he murmured.
“Aye, ‘tis the way of it. He planned to send for the village priest to annul the marriage. Naturally, there is nothing to annul, and I have no papers. This will make me a laughingstock across the Highlands.”
“Och, I dinna think it will be as bad as all that,” Donald predicted. “So long as ye are wed to the girl by the time all is over, all else will be forgotten.”
Then, he snickered. “And you were going to give Malcolm away without asking.”
“No one took the time to ask me if I wished to have my marriage arranged,” Leith reminded him. “Besides, ye know as well as I that Fiona is a better match than he could hope to make on his own, being the second son.”
“Perhaps ‘tis for the best that he was unable to join ye. I suspect he would have put up quite a fight were your plan to have worked in your favor.”
Now that he was with someone who knew him so well, Leith felt free to relax and speak his mind. It was a relief, truly, to have someone other than Melissa who understood him. Though she understood better than anyone ever had, there was no doubt.
“I canna tell ye how it twists my guts, knowing I must go through with it.” Leith clenched one fist, pressing it to his flat stomach. Truly, it felt as though a hand had reached into him and wrapped his innards around it, tightening them painfully.
“Aye, ‘tis a pity. Truly, I pity what ye suffer. I can only remind ye that many is the man—and woman—who married the one they were told to marry, rather than the one they wished to marry. I know I have made light of this in the past. I had hoped to brighten your mood, I suppose. Ye know ‘tis my way.”
Leith had to smile at this. “Aye, that I do.”
“Now, I must remind ye that many is the successful match made between a man and a woman who had not met before the day they spoke their vows.” Donald clamped powerful hands over his shoulders. “It pains me, truly does, for I loathe to see ye in pain. Yet ye dinna have to be in pain. Ye simply have to get through it, go about your life as men do, create an heir or two, and be through with her. Ye need scarcely see the woman’s face after that if ye dinna wish to.”
He knew his cousin had a fair point. There was no law stating a man and his wife had to share warm relations. Not that he could imagine any man enjoying warm relations with one such as Flora.
It would be a waste of time to explain to his cousin that he wished to have those sort of relations with a woman. He longed for one who understood his soul.
It was nearly enough to make Leith wish he’d never met Melissa at all, for before he’d made her acquaintance he had not understood what it meant to hear a woman’s whispered assurances during the night. To fall asleep knowing she had faith in him.
To awaken full of resolve, that he might live up to that faith.
Rather than protest further and attempt to explain that which his cousin would never understand, he patted his back and tried to sound lighthearted. “Ye ought to wash yourself after your journey. I suspect that once the priest arrives to annul my marriage, the ceremony will be performed. I will need ye there with me.”
“Ye know I will be there,” Donald assured him, patting his shoulders with a smile.
“And ye will not give me away? Or Melissa?”
Donald scowled, though there was a twinkle in his eye. “As if I ever would.” He strode from the room, chuckling.
Though Leith heard a tinge of sadness in the chuckle, sadness which he felt all too keenly.
When he returned to the entry hall, he fo
und that Melissa had still not arrived. Perhaps he had missed her, perhaps she had moved on in search of him. He should never have left her alone. She was like as not fearful of this world of his, and the strangers in it.
“Waiting for your wife?”
The sickeningly sweet voice landed on his ears like the furious buzzing a hive of angry bees. He knew before turning in place that he would find Flora MacNeill walking toward him from the great hall, a sweet smile lighting up her pleasing features.
Before he had the chance to respond, she continued. “They are preparing for the wedding feast, ye ken. Our wedding feast.”
He sighed, a hundred different responses coming to mind. None of which were suitable to be spoken aloud. “Tis a pity they feel they need to go through the trouble,” he replied.
Rather than scowling, she smiled brilliantly. It was a smile with nothing behind it. No sincerity, no gladness, not even sweetness. A smile with a hard edge. A determined smile. “Tis our wedding, and we are uniting two great clans. The celebration is certainly expected—if not deserved.”
It was wrong, and he knew it was wrong, but he could not help himself. He took a step toward her, standing mere inches away, and took her hands in one final act of desperation. “Ye know this is wrong,” he murmured, his eyes darting back and forth over her lovely face.
Never had he understood until just then that a lovely face could hide such wickedness.
Her eyes narrowed, her lip curling in a snarl. “What is wrong is the way ye brought another woman to what was meant to be our celebration. From the day I was born, I was meant to be yours. How do ye fail to ken what we have here? How can ye question it? This is not for you or I to decide. T’was decided for us. I was meant to be your wife, your lady, as ye were meant to be laird from the day ye were born. There is nothing else to be said.”
He might have understood and perhaps even sympathized with her were it not for that snarl. She was not merely reminding him of what he ought to know. She hated him for having to be reminded.
He sighed. “Forgive me. But ye must know what I’m trying to tell ye, very clumsily I admit. I love another.”
It did not escape his attention, the ease with which he spoke those words. They slipped from his tongue and hung in the air.
To his surprise and dismay, tears filled her eyes. They sparkled like jewels and made her eyes appear even bluer than ever. “How can ye say that to me? How can ye even speak those words?”
Never would he have imagined her possessing such feeling, and instantly he regretted speaking so openly. Perhaps he could have chosen his words more carefully. “Flora, I implore ye. Dinna upset yourself.”
Instead of heeding his words, she turned and fled to the very room in which he had only just shared his secret with his cousin. He followed and heard her muffled sobs before he closed the door behind him, giving them privacy even though it was hardly proper for the two of them to be alone behind a closed door before they said their vows.
“I did not mean to upset ye,” he murmured. “Please, dinna take it to heart. Perhaps if someone had told me long ago of this arrangement, everything would have been different. I might have turned my heart toward yours long before now. I could have accustomed myself to the notion of our marriage. Ye canna expect me to accept this so easily when I had no knowledge of it.”
“Ye simply dinna wish to marry me,” she whimpered, a handkerchief over her mouth and nose. “I only wish to please ye, and to be a good wife. Yet ye will not allow me the chance.”
Never had he expected her to possess such depth of feeling. Perhaps he had misjudged her, though that changed little. He still did not wish to be her husband when he knew not the first thing about her other than her family name and the fact that she was pleasing to the eye.
“Flora, please.” He patted her arm, an awkward gesture, but he felt he ought to do something while she wept.
Had he broken her heart? He had not considered it possible. For a moment, he tried to imagine living his entire life with the knowledge that he would wed one certain person when he came of age, then learning that it was not to be. He supposed he would be as deeply moved were he in her position.
Which was why when she began to slump to the floor in a fit of emotion, he was quick to catch her. “Flora, ye must not allow yourself to be overcome,” he chided softly, supporting her slight weight in his arms.
Only to recoil in horror an instant later when she turned her face upward and leaned in to kiss him.
In his surprise, he released her, allowing her to drop to the floor.
“Devious minx,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair in a vain attempt to steady himself. She had played him for a fool, seeking to gain his sympathy.
And he had allowed her to do it.
She rose to her feet, her tears now a memory, and stared at him straight on. “Ye are nothing but a fool,” she sneered. “But ye will be my husband, as was promised. And ye will be laird of Clan MacManus, and I will be your lady and the mother of your children. Whether or not ye approve of this is your concern, not mine.”
“Ye are vile.”
Her laughter was like ice running through his veins.
“Once again, that is your concern. Not mine.” She wasted little time pushing her way past him, striding from the room with her head held high.
Though he could not see from behind, he would have wagered on her smiling brilliantly.
After all, it was to be her wedding day.
“I am leaving,” he announced, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them. “I am taking my wife and I am leaving this place.”
Her confident stride faltered, but only for a moment. She disappeared from view, leaving him alone and wondering what was to be done.
There was nothing else to be done. He understood now.
He simply had to get Melissa and leave at once. Before it was too late.
18
“Melissa.”
Melissa turned in surprise to find Flora walking toward her across the entry hall, carrying a lace handkerchief in one hand. She looked a little red around the eyes like she might have been crying, but her smile was bright and easy.
Just like she had the night before, she wound her arm around Melissa’s and led her away. This time, they headed outside.
“I believe we have started off all wrong,” Flora confided in a whisper as they stepped out of the keep and into the courtyard.
The girl was like a force of nature. There was no fighting her. Her arm was a steel band, demanding, unbreakable. She gave Melissa no choice but to walk with her, almost running to keep up with her rapid pace.
“T’was not my intention,” Melissa assured her. “And I thank ye for sending Gwynna to my chambers this morning.”
“And t’was all done for the best, for how lovely ye look. What a charming gown.” Flora took a deep breath and released it with a soft sigh. “What a distressing situation this has been for all of us, but most especially for ye. I’m certain ye could never have known that the man ye wed had already been promised to another.”
“That is so.” They walked through the courtyard, passing the stables and the blacksmith and a handful of other small buildings. Melissa wished the situation were different, that she could enjoy this. That she could learn from these people about what life was like in these times, something no one had ever had the privilege of doing before. At least, not that she was aware of.
There was no chance of that happening with Flora leading her as easily as she might lead a dog on a leash.
“Ye ken too well, I am certain, that the situation cannot go on as it is. Leith is to be my husband; my father will see to that. Yet ye must be provided for. If I must, I will see to it. Ye have my word.”
Melissa had a feeling that her word was about as good as a three dollar bill, but she managed a tight smile. “Are ye certain Leith will fall in line?” she couldn’t help but ask, just like she couldn’t help but take a little bit of pleasure at
the way Flora winced.
But then she smiled, and Melissa thought she might have imagined that wince. It disappeared so quickly.
“He has no choice but to fall in line, as ye say. He only thinks he has a say in this, but I am afraid he has no more choice than I have. T’was all decided long ago, and many decisions and plans were made with this match in mind. One simply cannot turn their back on duty, not if honor means anything to them.”
There went that word again. Honor. Yes, Leith put a lot of stake in his honor, and Melissa couldn’t pretend she didn’t admire it. He was probably the only truly honorable man she’d ever known, come to think of it.
They came to a tall tower, the stones stacked high enough to block out the sun. Melissa craned her neck to look up and couldn’t see the top from where she stood. When Flora pulled her on, through the doorway, she tried to plant her feet.
“Where are we going?” Melissa asked.
“Och, ye simply must take in the view from the top. Tis truly astonishing, how much one can see from up there. It makes me feel as though I am on top of the world, looking down at creation. Flora turned to her, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Ye must see it before your husband takes ye away.”
Melissa’s mouth fell open. “He intends to take me away?”
“So he had not told ye,” Flora murmured, nodding slowly. “Perhaps he only came to this decision on his own, without speaking with ye. That is life then, is it not? They make decisions on our behalf, then ask us to praise their cleverness.”
Melissa found herself laughing a little, because it was true. For all her faults, Flora understood a thing or two. She would’ve done a lot better for herself in the twenty-first century, no doubt.