The Highland Laird's Bride

by Nicole Locke

  He traded with more powerful clans, foreign emissaries and royalty. Even in the toughest negotiations, he managed to wrest a benefit for his clan so that his pride remained intact.

  Here, with Lioslath, he couldn’t give away his wealth. She wouldn’t even allow an apology. He’d had enough.

  So with a few crucial words, he wrested control from her. It wasn’t only anger motivating him, but with Gillean’s words of marriage, he realised there could be another way of staying the winter. He could bargain with Lioslath, as he had with her father. Offer a marriage. A temporary marriage.

  It would secure an alliance and give him her clan’s acceptance and security. In turn she’d have his wealth and power. She wouldn’t have to barter as her father had. He would simply give it to her. He’d give her lasting benefits even after he left. Whatever it took. He’d made a promise to his clan, and to his brothers. At any cost, he must keep to the plan. He could do it, too. As long as he and Lioslath didn’t consummate their short marriage, then—

  ‘You didn’t ask her.’

  Bram turned to Donaldo, who was standing calmly by. Her great girth like a boulder that could be moved only if she wished it. He had no intention of moving her or this clan. He would keep to his plans and if he had to go around their stubbornness he would.

  ‘It is done.’ But he had too many questions and, if the new strategy was to work, he needed information. His duty to his clan demanded it.

  Lioslath was unexpected and he had underestimated her. They hadn’t talked since he announced their betrothal. He couldn’t go to her again without knowing more about her. Because when he saw her again, he expected resistance, and this time he would not fail.

  ‘How did she hit those targets?’ Her skill couldn’t have been executed without intense practice.

  ‘I’ve known that child since she was born, witnessed every joy and heartbreak. Do you think I’d tell you?’

  No, she wouldn’t, and he was a fool to ask. Again, he wasn’t listening as he was trained. When it came to Lioslath, his thoughts were too much affected by his emotions.

  ‘But I will barter with you.’

  Surprise, and another fierce emotion, gripped him. He was desperate, but if Donaldo wanted to barter, he would not refuse. ‘Why?’

  ‘You want answers and I have a request before your wedding.’

  If there was a wedding. ‘What is the request?’

  Donaldo smiled. ‘I won’t tell you that until you agree to abide by it.’

  He couldn’t go to Lioslath without knowing more about her, but he’d be a fool to agree to this woman’s terms. He thought himself an unparalleled negotiator, but the Fergusson clan was constantly outmanoeuvring him.

  ‘I agree,’ he said foolishly. But if he was a fool, he was one with no choice. He might have announced to the clan that he and Lioslath were betrothed. By her silence she might have appeared to accept, but he needed to truly secure the acceptance. He needed all the knowledge he could obtain.

  ‘She’s skilled,’ Donaldo said, ‘because she’s hunted for this clan since she was practically a bairn.’

  A woman, hunting for a clan. It was unheard of. He’d never allowed his sisters any such recreation, and yet he couldn’t deny it. Lioslath had been wielding weapons at him since the first time he saw her.

  ‘Busby allowed this?’ he asked.

  ‘Allowed? Oh, aye. He allowed it,’ Donaldo continued, ‘Not in the way you probably are thinking, Colquhoun. It wasn’t a pastime for her that he indulged. He forced her to do it.’

  And there. That revelation changed everything.

  Busby. He had given his sister into Busby’s keeping, when it was clear he hadn’t known the man at all. The wolves were rife in the forest here and Busby, a father, had forced his daughter into that danger. Did he want her dead?

  ‘Why did he do this?’ he asked.

  Donaldo paused. ‘Your curiosity goes beyond our agreement.’

  Curiosity never motivated him. Many people made this mistake, since obtaining facts was a pursuit he shared with his family, but they did it for different reasons. His brother Caird pursued answers because he liked the world to be ordered. Malcolm pursued facts purely for the sheer intellectual love of solving puzzles.

  But Bram pursued answers to use them in his diplomacy, to gain power, and he would do so now. ‘I need to know why Lioslath gained her skills,’ he said.

  ‘You only asked how she gained her skills and that I answered. It would hurt her for you to know why,’ she said.

  ‘Is this your continued revenge against me? Not to give an honest answer? You doona surprise me. I expected this deceit.’

  ‘Did you? If you feel resentment, remember it is not this clan that is to blame.’

  No, he blamed himself. But it didn’t matter if he would get no direct answers from her. He knew where his responsibilities and duties lay, and though it was meagre, she gave him some facts, which was more than he had before.

  ‘What is your request?’ he said bluntly, his sense of diplomacy gone.

  ‘Before you marry her, ask Lioslath why she cut her hair.’

  * * *

  In the dark, Lioslath continued to pace the empty stables. It was the only place she could go and be alone. It was late and the Fergusson revelry was mostly quiet. Now she paced, wishing for Dog, wishing for distractions. And waiting. Waiting and knowing Bram would find her and she had nowhere to run.

  She was trussed like some game, waiting for her wedding, waiting to be hoisted over the firepit, as though she was some sacrifice, and her clan celebrated. Celebrated a betrothal she hadn’t agreed to. Did she even want it?

  Bram brought nothing but misery to this clan, and yet...they celebrated a union and she still wanted his kiss. What did she know of people? Nothing. She didn’t even know herself.

  Weak. Vulnerable. She hadn’t felt this way since her father journeyed to the Colquhoun clan, when she openly returned his smile as he looked down at her from his horse. Eyes sheening, she brimmed with some unknown happiness as Eoin exclaimed how funny she looked, as Fyfa returned her smile, her sister’s eyes dancing at the thoughts of a new mother. One who would care about clothes and ribbons.

  Now she turned before she hit the back wall. She didn’t need the light to know where she was. Alone. Exposed again.

  Except this time she wasn’t brimming with happiness, just the vulnerability, just the weakness.

  Two emotions she ruthlessly hid after her mother’s death. After her stepmother, Irman, requested she sleep with the horses. Irman, who told everyone Lioslath preferred the horses over her own family.

  Her father had believed Irman and ignored her in favour of his new family. Worse, he abandoned her, yet kept her close. A constant reminder she wasn’t wanted.

  When she became part of Niall’s family, she found her home amongst the trees and with her love of hunting. If she hadn’t found joy, she had at least been content. Until her father’s death.

  Her role with her clan hadn’t changed immediately. At first, only Aindreas and Donaldo made demands of her. Insisting she didn’t have a role with the clan, she fought them. After all, what had her clan done for her when her father treated her so cruelly?

  She exhaled and spun again. The horses were getting restless with her pacing. So she stopped, though she didn’t want to.

  She didn’t want to claim responsibility for her clan either. And it hadn’t been resentment towards her clan that she had felt those many months ago. It had been reluctance to claim a role she didn’t have the skills or the knowledge to do.

  Yet what else could her clan have done except ask her to take up the role? With cruelty and bitterness her father pursued his follies and the Colquhoun lass. When her father died, her clan was as lost as she.

  Since then, she tried to be
what her clan needed. She thought by winning the archery contest she could be what they needed. Someone fierce to drive away the Colquhouns. What she’d done was bind herself and her clan all the more tightly to them.

  Marriage to Bram. Did she want it?

  It was all her fault. Donaldo warned her that she might go too far. But she wanted to go far, to get them off her land and to lick her wounds in private. The English had left scarcely weeks before Bram crested the hill. Her clan was still reeling from the catastrophe of loss when Bram arrived to heap on more.

  By then she felt broken with the dictates and the demands and the disappointments. By the lack of control.

  And there...there was her pain. Because it was not only the truth that Bram took every bit of her freedom. It was that her clan, by their silence, agreed.

  Bram orchestrated her father’s death, arrived too late to protect them from the English, and yet her clan celebrated a permanent union between them.

  Could she marry Bram, Laird Colquhoun? It was only her decision now. Her clan had made theirs.

  ‘I thought you escaped through the tunnel.’

  Bram’s voice in the dark. Affecting her before she could brace herself against it. So she stumbled as she whirled around to face him.

  The tunnel. As she had in her childhood, she used the tunnel to escape. To walk, to keep walking, but it became late, and without Dog’s protection, she couldn’t stay in the forest. She couldn’t face her clan either, and so she came to the stables instead.

  ‘I thought you’d be here sooner,’ she said, grateful her voice didn’t betray her turmoil.

  A small chuckle that held the edge of his anger as he entered the stables. ‘You were expecting me.’

  Words. The same words he used that first fateful night in her bedroom. He sounded so at ease again and her frustration increased as he easily navigated the uneven surfaces and the low rock and wooden corrals.

  ‘Aye, I was expecting you, Bram of Clan Colquhoun,’ she repeated. ‘I was expecting an apology and for you to announce the betrothal was only a game you played. A...trick.’

  He smiled then, though she couldn’t possibly see it. Even guessing it was there made the tension inside her coil tighter. Which was better than feeling vulnerable and exposed to the distinct tenor of his voice.

  ‘Interesting, since I came here expecting an apology from you, and you have to know, in matters that I intend to win, I do play games.’

  His voice held a bite, but still it was playful. She was in turmoil, feeling vulnerable and exposed, and he was enjoying this.

  ‘I never understand you,’ she said. ‘You were furious mere hours ago. You gazed at me as if it was I who trapped you into marriage. I just—’

  ‘Thought to show off? Those were impressive skills you hid, lass. Maybe you didn’t hide them. I seem to remember weapons in your hands before. Care to tell me of them?’

  ‘Nae.’

  He shrugged. ‘Pity, since I hoped to keep this discussion friendly.’

  ‘Friendly!’

  ‘Aye, after all, we do need to come to an agreement.’

  ‘I’ll agree to nothing.’

  ‘Not even for your clan?’

  Her clan. So many sacrifices she made for them since her father’s death and they expected her to do it again. And why wouldn’t they? It benefited them for her to make such a profitable marriage. Aye, she was trussed like game for the firepit, but Bram was here to talk, which meant he wasn’t as sure as he sounded.

  ‘What game do you play?’

  ‘You shot the arrow, though you knew we needed the competition to ease relations between the clans. You aggravated them again.’

  ‘I agreed to it and the competitions happened. There was nae agreement on a winner.’

  ‘As I realised too late. I think it is a matter of perspective who plays games, Lioslath.’

  She could feel tension wavering just under his surface, though he remained calm. His calmness infuriated her. ‘You announced our betrothal in front of everyone. Whatever power I had was taken away from me.’

  ‘Is that it? Is it control you want?’ He looked over her shoulder and out the window before his eyes returned to her. ‘You have to know, I cannot force you to this.’

  Now she truly didn’t understand. The Colquhoun controlled all situations. He didn’t relinquish control. ‘Are you negotiating with me?

  ‘Why can’t we make such an alliance as your father had with my sister?’

  She heard him stepping closer. ‘After everything, you think I’d...barter with you?’

  ‘I think it would be beneficial for us to marry, lass. After all, your father thought so.’

  Was that all this was about? ‘If it was beneficial, why didn’t you make it when you arrived or write about it in the missive? Why wait for that moment?’

  A stillness to him. A pause. Her question surprised him. It surprised her as well. She could just refuse him. By asking questions, she almost sounded interested. Her clan had made their decision; she still had to make hers.

  ‘Does the timing matter?’ he asked.

  It did, and yet what could be done about it now? There was nothing practical or useful about wondering why. What mattered was now, but she had to clarify.

  ‘You want to marry me the way my father married Gaira?’

  ‘Exactly.’ His words sounded pleased.

  ‘For...sheep?’

  ‘You have to know it’s for more than that. If nothing else, then for the needs of your clan and your siblings. You do know about them, aye?’

  Even in jest, she could not talk about her brothers and sister. Not when the truth was that she knew them very little.

  ‘Why are you alone?’ he continued. ‘Why weren’t you surrounded by your siblings and clansmen when I made the announcement?’

  The clans cheering, she had tugged her hand out of Bram’s and swiftly walked away. No one had followed her and she hadn’t expected them to.

  ‘They were there,’ she said. ‘And so was I.’

  He shook his head as if to deny her words. ‘They were there, but not with you. Why do you know so little of your clan and siblings?’

  His persuasive voice no longer teased, but softened, as if he did wonder about her feelings. As if he pitied her. She would have none of that.

  ‘You constantly talk,’ she said. ‘More than any man I know and yet you say nothing.’

  He thinned his lips, but his expression was rueful. As if he tried to hide his anger and humour. When she was angry, she was angry and she stayed that way. His mercurial behaviour, his constant humour, bewildered her.

  ‘It’s my years of trading,’ he said. ‘It’s a game of saying things and never revealing anything. Most doona notice.’

  Games again. She hated them. They were useless.

  And now they were in the dark. Alone. Never again did she want to be in this position. He was only reminding her why she hated to be indoors. This time, she didn’t have Dog or a dagger.

  She didn’t know or understand this man at all. A marriage was significant, important. Between them it was grave. But while he made the announcement, he had laughed.

  ‘I doona play games and I won’t marry you.’

  ‘So easy to refuse me?’ A disappointed sound emitted from Bram. ‘It’s an advantageous alliance between us. Your father thought so and I give you my word I will give you more wealth and security than I offered him.’

  He sounded persuasive. ‘You mean this. You are negotiating with me! I doona understand. You made the announcement. I can hear some clansmen continuing to celebrate.’

  ‘Ah, so you stand in the dark believing it is done? What if I told you I announced our marriage, but I wanted to bargain with you? A bargain where you hold the upper hand in the negotiatio
ns.’

  He was giving her the power to refuse or accept him. After everything this year, she wanted that control. Was it enough?

  ‘You have the decision in this, lass,’ Bram continued. ‘I’m requesting the agreement I had with your father be between us. Except this time, there will be more than sheep. You’ll have the entire Clan Colquhoun behind you.’

  Could she do this? Could she do what her father had intended for his clan? He had had such pride in securing a Colquhoun bride, and supporting the clan again. Now her clan expected her to secure a Colquhoun husband.

  ‘Lioslath?’

  She didn’t want to make this decision only for her clan’s needs. If Bram meant she had the upper hand, then she could barter for more. Her clan benefiting wasn’t enough, but what of her siblings? ‘I saw you today, with my brothers.’

  ‘Aye, a fine mess Eoin made when he fell atop the prepared vegetables.’

  ‘I think Gillean intentionally tripped one of his poles.’

  ‘Of course he did, and a right telling-off Fyfa gave in return.’

  ‘You provided that food, but weren’t angry. You...helped them.’

  ‘Ah, so you do think of them.’

  Always. Constantly.

  ‘Your eyes soften when you think of them. Would you agree to my proposal for them? I would provide for and support them as well.’

  Her siblings were her family now. If only she knew how to be with them. Bram made it look so effortless today, laughing along with Gillean, at Eoin, covered and flopping about in smashed turnips and cabbages.

  He had disengaged Eoin from the stilts, given him a kind lecture and sent him on his way. In one moment, Bram understood both her brothers’ antics and Fyfa’s desire for order.

  But could she marry him for her siblings? She felt as though she was making that sacrifice again, but this time she was contemplating the fire.

  No, this couldn’t be about her clan or her siblings. There had to be more than that. She...deserved more than that. Her whole life had been to please others.