The Highlander & the Unlikely Heir_Scottish Highland Romance

by Fiona MacEwen

  “Thank ye, my lord,” she said, and there was nothing untoward about her tone or about the way she spoke to him, but Alastair still felt a sense of dread when he thought about the upcoming arrangement.

  “I hope there is somewhere for my men to stay,” Alastair said eventually, looking up at the Sutherland castle. It was a great sight to behold, even from a distance, but up close its beautiful walls and intricate design were so much more imposing. “The journey has tired me, and I wish to be refreshed enough for what it is to come.”

  “Of course.” Margaret gestured to Robert, and just as Alastair suspected, more men come out of the shadows at his raised hand. “My men will see to it. Come, Isobel and I will take you to your room.”

  Chapter 4

  Introduction

  The next morning, Alastair woke early enough to watch the sun rise over the hills. The sky was grey, but that did nothing to dampen the beauty of the land around the castle. The Loch itself was large, perhaps larger than any Alastair could claim on his land, and there was no shortage of life around the heath and grassland.

  Perhaps this marriage would be more beneficial than he could have imagined when he agreed to enter into a period of engagement. He could hope that Lady Sutherland would be gracious in her offering though it was not always easy to gauge the willingness of another party to accept what their clan must give up in a wedding arrangement. Alastair had his own boundaries.

  Breakfast was a subdued affair in the Sutherland Castle. The hall was vast, if mostly empty, but for four tables arranged in two rows. It was an odd set up, if not for the fact that it made conversation between parties difficult, but Alastair took his seat at the nearest, amongst his own men. He caught the eye of John, his brother, who gave him a tight nod. It was not the glowing recommendation Alastair had hoped for, but he trusted he would get more information later, when they were alone. He doubted there was enough deception within the castle to make a wedding arrangement void, but it wouldn’t do to presume.

  Scotland was not the safest of places, and he wanted to know that he could trust every man who would come to his call.

  “Guid mornin, Laird Grant.”

  Alastair met Isobel’s eyes and gave her a smile. “Mornin. Ye slept well?”

  “I did,” Isobel said, sliding smoothly into the seat opposite Alastair. “Perhaps later today I could show ye around Sutherland. It is a beautiful place.”

  The words sounded as though Isobel was reciting from memory and not speaking from her heart. Alastair wondered if she did indeed find Sutherland as beautiful as she claimed.

  “Tis bonnie, to be sure,” Alastair said.

  The idea of seeing Sutherland in greater detail was alluring. If what Alastair saw from his bedroom window earlier was anything close to the rest of the lands, it was worth a visit. Perhaps the company, while not preferential, would not be completely without merit.

  The rest of breakfast passed quickly, though Isobel slipped out not a half hour after sitting down, letting Alastair know quietly that she intended to prepare for their exploration. It was not unlike women of his clan to get ready for large events, especially ones such as a contract meeting, an arrangement of some kind, or even just a meeting, but he was unused to someone preparing for a trip around the countryside.

  Perhaps the Sutherland Clan differences were more pronounced. He expected he would find out soon. As soon as he had finished with breakfast, he walked with John to the main stairway.

  “What do ye think so far?”

  John looked thoughtful. He was a man who weighed his words carefully, who made sure to stick to facts and not color anything with superstition or feeling. It was the reason Alastair held the man in such high regard. “I like a lot of them. They’re very talkative. I’m sure they’ll open up after a whisky or two, aye?”

  Alastair should have known his brother would work alcohol into the mix. Back home, they were known for their whisky, but if it got tongues loose enough that he could find out whether a marriage to the Sutherland Clan was the best plan for all, all the better. “I trust ye to ken yer limits.”

  “Aye,” John said with a dashing grin, “I do.”

  Alastair parted with his brother at the main doors and awaited Isobel’s return. When another half hour passed, he went in search of her, attempting to remember the layout of the castle. It was not overly large, but roomy enough that he ended up getting lost twice, before turning into a different corridor, this one longer and warmer. There was an open door halfway down, and as Alastair approached, he heard raised voices.

  “–ye haven’t apologized! Don’t you dare ruin this for me, Catriona–“

  Tugging the door a little further, Alastair walked in on a scene that had his breath catching in his throat. Isobel was standing in the middle of the room, dress hanging half off one shoulder. It was torn down the back, the fabric frayed, and she was red in the face. Her hand was curled tightly around the wrist of another girl, this one with long blond hair and blue eyes, her face the picture of shock. Neither of them had realized he was there.

  “I’m sorry, Isobel,” the girl said, voice wavering on Isobel’s name. She was leaning as far as she could, body twisted, and trying to wrench out of the hold Isobel had on her wrist. “Ye moved when I tried to–“

  “This is not me fault,” Isobel snapped over her, sounding harsher than Alastair thought the situation warranted. Mistakes happened. “Yer doing this on purpose, because ye don’t want me to be happy–“

  “What’s happening here?” Alastair cut in smoothly, trying to catch the gaze of the blonde-haired woman. She looked him straight in the eye, and though she appeared to be ashamed and frightened, there was a strength there that warmed his heart.

  “Laird Grant,” Isobel said after a beat, her hand still tight around the other girl’s wrist. “Catriona, me maid, has just ripped me dress.”

  The girl—Catriona—looked like she wanted to say something, but her lips straightened into a thin line. Her eyes darted to Alastair and then back to Isobel. “I didn’t mean to,” she said slowly, keeping her eyes on the floor. “I am sorry.”

  “Ye better be,” Isobel started, and there was something nasty about her expression.

  Alastair stepped forward, inserting himself between Isobel and Catriona. Isobel immediately dropped her hand, sliding away from Alastair to better look at him.

  “Laird. I’m sorry ye had to see that.”

  “So am I,” Alastair said, and turned to Catriona. “Mistakes happen. Perhaps ye should take the dress and try to mend it?”

  “Nae need,” Isobel said, resting a hand on Alastair’s arm. He resisted the urge to shake her off and instead gave her a tight smile.

  Catriona nodded her head and gave Alastair a brief, appreciative look. “Thank ye,” she said, ducking away from both he and Isobel. “I’ll return shortly with another dress.”

  Alastair wasn’t sure where Isobel kept her dresses if not in this room, but perhaps it was an excuse for her to leave. Either way, he watched her until she had passed through the door and out of sight. Isobel shifted the dress a little, exposing more shoulder, and Alastair swallowed. “Perhaps we should postpone the excursion until this afternoon?”

  “Nae,” Isobel said a little too quickly. “Catriona won’t be long, she better not be, and then we will have time to see whatever you wish.”

  Sorry that she didn’t immediately take him up on his suggestion, Alastair nevertheless acquiesced and promised to wait downstairs for her. It was all he could do to escape the room, but as soon as he was back in the corridor, he wondered how far Catriona had gone. There was something about the look in her eyes, the strength she was hiding, however subtly, beneath her subservience. If it could be called that. She didn’t have the bearing of a maid, but Alastair wasn’t an expert.

  He could not let himself dwell on it; his marriage would be to Isobel and he could not be distracted, not even for those blue eyes.

  Chapter 5

  A Loch of Heart
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  Catriona escaped in the late evening when the feast was winding down. She didn’t know what there was to celebrate; despite a lengthy walk around the Clan lands, she didn’t think any negotiations had taken place yet. Not that it was any of her business; she was happy enough to escape Isobel and disappear back to the Loch.

  The incident that morning was still fresh on her mind. She hadn’t expected Alastair to be so handsome, or so unlike any man she had come across before. He was clean shaven, like her father had been. But where her father had commanded presence and obedience, Alastair seemed to be more welcoming and charismatic. It didn’t seem as harmful as the type of charm Margaret turned on people, but it was nonetheless a draw she could not ignore.

  It hadn’t been a terrible fight between herself and Isobel, and it wasn’t the tightest grip Isobel had ever held her in, but it had been enough. Isobel could be vicious on the best of days, but however important this wedding was, Catriona refused to give in to Isobel’s temper and hatred.

  The Loch was still, no breeze in the air, and Catriona sat on the bank, toes curling into the dirt. She was not expecting to be called into the castle any time soon. Margaret had made it more than clear that she was to make herself scarce, and Isobel’s already quick temper had landed Catriona with a free evening. She liked those the best, but not enough to try Isobel’s patience enough to get one too often.

  It was exhausting, trying to be something she was not, and as she rested her chin on her knees, she longed to be herself for the first time in years.

  There was the crunch of a stick, and Catriona’s head whipped up. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw Alastair approaching

  “Oh,” Alastair said, when he saw her, “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

  “I like coming here in the evening.” Catriona didn’t know what made her say it. She dropped her gaze, felt her cheeks heat up. “The Loch is at its most beautiful in the early mornin and late in the evenin.”

  Alastair hesitated only a second before sitting down next to her. Catching the expression that she knew must be on her face, he gave her a wry smile. “What? A Laird can’t sit on the ground?”

  Despite herself, Catriona let out a laugh. “I thought there was a rule against dirtying your trousers.”

  Alastair waved a hand, still smiling. “We don’t mind getting a little dirty now and then.”

  Catriona kept her smile as she stared out over the water. “There are a family of ducks in the reeds. We also get a few grouse around if we’re lucky.”

  Animals were not new to the Sutherland Clan. They had the obligatory hunting dogs and hawks, and horses enough for every man. Wild animals were far scarcer, though they had deer, ducks, geese, and hares. There was enough to eat, and given selective breeding and cultivating, enough to supply Clan Grant with as well. Though Catriona hesitated to mention it now, wanting to share the beauty of the creatures, rather than their resources.

  “I would love to see them,” Alastair told her seriously.

  Catriona said nothing, staring out at the Loch instead. “I don’t s'pose a Laird has time to sit around watching Lochs.”

  “Nae,” Alastair admitted gently. “Though I think if we did, there would be less fighting.”

  It made Catriona laugh, and she lifted her head from her knees, allowing herself to relax a fraction. “Do ye think ye could be happy here?”

  “I like it,” Alastair said, though it was not a direct answer to her question. “There are things about it that I love.”

  Catriona let out a slow breath and watched the sun dip below the horizon. “I apologize that I cannot stay longer, but I have to get inside before dark. Thank ye again for this mornin.”

  Alastair nodded, and his smile made Catriona’s heart skip. “The pleasure was mine, me lady.”

  “Please,” Catriona said, unable to hear it. She pushed herself up onto her feet and couldn’t meet Alastair’s eyes. “I’m nae a lady.”

  Something dark and angry settled in her stomach as she said it, but it was the truth of the moment, and she slipped away from Alastair, unable to look at him as she headed for the castle.

  Chapter 6

  In Passing

  There were a couple more meetings between Alastair and Catriona.

  Almost by accident, Alastair would be walking in the castle and he would catch a glimpse of Catriona’s blonde hair, and the sad, downward turn of her mouth. Other times, he would see the billow of her dress as she turned a corner. Rarer still were the times she would be at the Loch, and he would see her from his bedroom window, looking sad as she contemplated the water. As much as he wanted to go and join her, it had been an exhausting day, and she had made it clear in their last sojourn to the Loch that she was sad, though he could not pinpoint why.

  Instead, he would relish the times they passed.

  A quick touch to her elbow to help steady her on the stairs. A whispered hello, or comfortable greeting as she passed in the corridor, her mouth quirking up into a smile. Those, he would take as a small victory, for Catriona’s face was so much more beautiful with happiness. There were other times, of course, when they would be gathered in the main hall or the sitting rooms, and Catriona would attend Isobel. She would be defiant and deferent all at once, a juxtaposition that impressed and intrigued Alastair. Catriona was special, of that he was sure, but he could not be sure that she thought the same about him. Nor was she required to.

  “I feel as if ye have been here forever,” he found himself telling her one evening, the two of them lingering in the dinner hall.

  The rest of those gathered had dispersed, and Catriona was supposed to be heading up to Isobel’s rooms after cleaning up, but Alastair had stayed.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Catriona said, staying his hand as he attempted to pick up a plate. “It’s me job.”

  Alastair wanted to ignore her, but he did as she requested and left her to clean. He didn’t leave, instead leaning against the back of one of the chairs. “Do ye feel it?”

  Catriona’s cheeks flushed red, and she raised her eyes quickly to his. She didn’t answer him, and he could understand to a degree. It was a little unfair to her to ask such a question, especially considering what he was here to do.

  “I apologize,” he said, reaching for her hand. She didn’t avoid him so that made him feel a little better.

  Catriona inclined her head. She moved away from him, but paused in the doorway, dishes stacked haphazardly enough that Alastair contemplated helping her with them despite her protests. “In another life.”

  Alastair let out a slow breath as Catriona disappeared into the kitchens. In another life, perhaps. It was a sobering thought, and he slipped out of the hall without saying goodbye. He had come here to arrange a wedding, and no matter what his heart was telling him about Catriona, he had to think of his Clan. Matters of the heart had seemed such a simple thing to him back home and discovering they were not so easy was hard to swallow.

  The next morning, when Alastair passed Catriona in the hallway she barely looked his way, and though he could see her hands clenched into fists, he felt his heart lurch. It was an awful feeling, to have such regard for someone he was not supposed to. Perhaps supposed to was too strong, but it was not a strategic movement to marry beneath a lady. His clan needed strength. No matter what his growing feelings for Catriona were, he could not give into them.

  Clenching his own hands against the urge to take Catriona in his arms, he slipped into the room Lady Sutherland had taken her breakfast within and bowed his head in respect. “My Lady,” he started, feeling his chest tighten with every word. “I agree to yer terms.”

  There was a sense of triumph in Margaret’s eyes. She swept towards him, smile in place. It was an easy smile, one of relief and happiness, and Alastair let himself be pulled into a kiss on the cheek. It was not unlike a kiss his mother would have bestowed, and Alastair gave Margaret a kind smile.

  “I am glad,” she said. Though she was severe outsi
de of the rooms, here there was a softness to her that he could not explain. But it had gone some way to easing the nervousness and apprehension he felt about entering a union. “Will ye send word?”

  “Immediately,” Alastair told her, wondering at the eagerness with which she spoke, but dismissing it as enthusiasm. It was not every day your daughter betrothed herself to another clan. “Plans will be made for the wedding in due course.”

  Margaret stepped away from him and called for Robert. Alastair didn’t have to wait long for him to appear, and when he did, he took the news with grace. “I wish for word to spread.”

  Another thing Alastair did not understand, but he bid his leave. “I must get back to Grant to make me own arrangements.”

  “Of course,” Margaret said smoothly, taking Alastair’s elbow and steering him from the room. “I expect ye’ll want to speak to Isobel before ye leave.”

  Alastair nodded, unable to find the words. He did not, in fact, want to speak to Isobel. It was to Catriona he wanted to speak, to let her know his choice before she heard it from anyone else. It seemed a small thing to tell her when it would have no bearing on her life, but perhaps some part of Alastair hoped that the news would not be well received. It was a selfish part, and he knew it was unfair to expect her to be distressed by the news when there was nothing to be done or that could happen between them.

  As soon as the door closed behind him, Alastair gave himself five minutes to collect himself. He needed to contact John, to let his men know that they would be leaving as soon as they had collected their belongings, but he also wanted to linger. As much as he missed his home, his lands, and his family, he loved Sutherland with an appreciation he could never have mustered for anywhere else. Perhaps it was the love for which Catriona held for her home, but it was also the beauty and quietness to the land.

  Isobel, Robert, even Lady Sutherland—they all seemed brash and out of place against their back drop, but Alastair could not pinpoint why.

  Either way, he was going to put it out of his mind. He had committed himself to Isobel and he would see it through. Clan Grant would see it through.