Will turned deep red and averted his eyes to the fire, which brought another hearty laugh from Daniel.
“So, you have now assessed the new situation. What is your plan?” Daniel said once Will’s color began to return to normal.
“I suppose I shall have to run the keep myself—with Father’s advisement, of course,” Will replied matter-of-factly.
Daniel smiled inwardly. “Good. And what will that entail?”
Though he trusted in Will’s sharp mind and the lessons he had bestowed on the lad, he wanted to be sure that he could leave with confidence that he wasn’t abandoning his family unprepared.
“The men and I will keep up our training in the mornings. I’ll consult with Father about the disputes that arise from the villagers and farmers, as you have done with him. Margaret can continue to run the household affairs until…”
“Until you are married,” Daniel interjected with a wicked grin.
“Aye, until that day.” Already, Will sounded calmer about the thought. “And what is your new plan, Uncle Danny?”
Daniel sighed. “I’ll speak to your father tonight about these developments. Then I’ll leave on the morrow for the Lowlands.”
Will’s face fell ever so slightly. “So soon?”
“As you have so astutely noticed, lad, I am already overdue in following the King’s orders. Storm or no, I’ll make haste to the south to face my responsibility.”
“Alone? Shouldn’t you take some of the men-at-arms, or at least a small retinue?”
“Nay, I’ll not deprive you of your men.”
Just as was Daniel’s intention, Will’s chest puffed slightly at the mention of his men.
“Besides, I won’t need them,” Daniel went on. If he was worthy of being hand-selected by Robert the Bruce to take charge of Loch Doon, bring an errant Laird to heel, secure a shaky alliance with an arranged marriage, and lay the foundation for a siege against their enemies, Daniel didn’t need an army, or even a dozen men.
Brute force was never enough. Daniel had learned that the hard way, over and over, as the youngest of three brothers. He had never been big enough or strong enough to match them, so he had learned to develop his force of will, determination, and unbending stubbornness instead. Though he was often on the bloody side of his scuffles with his brothers and older cousin, they had learned to respect his unerring willpower and grit. He would just have to apply that fortitude to Loch Doon, Laird Gilbert Kennedy, and even this unwanted Lowland bride of his.
“So, now all that’s left is…to not look back.” Though Will raised his chin and met Daniel’s eyes, Daniel didn’t miss the sadness in the lad’s voice.
“When we are thrown into a new situation, we can’t keep living as if nothing has changed,” Daniel said quietly, “but that doesn’t mean we forget or abandon what is most important.”
Without warning, Will launched himself into Daniel’s chest, wrapping his arms around him in a fierce hug. For all that Will had grown and learned in the last ten years, he was still the same boy Daniel had hugged for the first time not long after William’s terrible fall.
“You can write to me whenever you like,” Daniel said softly. Then, disentangling himself, he gave the boy a serious look. “And I expect you to keep things running smoothly here. The keep is your responsibility now.”
Will nodded bravely, assuming the expression of a serious leader as if he were donning a cloak. Soon enough, Daniel thought with a mixture of sadness and pride, the boy would be a man, and he would no longer have to act like a leader—he would simply be one.
The following morning, a gray dawn broke. The snow had abated somewhat, but flurries still swirled around Daniel as he swung into the saddle and spurred his horse through the open gates. He knew that Will gazed down at him from his father’s window, but Daniel didn’t look up. They had said their goodbyes already, and despite his longing to stay with his uncle and young cousin, he had to face his responsibility to the Bruce.
Fresh snow blanketed everything, but he was familiar enough with the landscape to know his route. He guided his horse southwest to face the duty that awaited him. There was no more time for hesitation or delay. He dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and set his mouth in a grim line, willing himself to meet his fate.
HIGHLANDER’S RECKONING
CHAPTER TWO
“Today! Today is the day!”
Rona jumped as her chamber door flew open and banged against the wall. Her father hadn’t even bothered to knock in his agitated state.
“What is today, Father?” she said as he strode to the side of her bed, where she was stuffing her feet into her boots.
His eyes quickly scanned her simple wool dress of earthy green, her thick winter hose, and the worn leather boots she was lacing up.
“No, this will never do,” he muttered, a frown on his face. “Agnes!” he bellowed out the open door.
“Father,” she said, taking the stern tone she often used with him. “Explain yourself. What is today, and why won’t my appearance do? Do for what?”
His eyes focused on her, as if seeing her for the first time. “Today your husband arrives!”
Rona’s chest squeezed and at the same time, her stomach fell to the floor.
Her husband. What a strange and intimate word to use for someone she’d never met. She had known for months that she’d been promised to some Highland barbarian by Robert the Bruce, the self-appointed King of Scotland. The longer she went without word of the stranger’s arrival, though, the less real it all seemed.
Initially, it had been a horrible shock to learn of the King’s plans for her. Of course, she expected to marry and was prepared for an arrangement based on political maneuvering rather than love. But she had always assumed that her father would be the one to arrange her marriage, which meant that she would have a heavy hand in its planning. She had learned from an early age that her father loathed conflict. With the right application of her strong will and quick temper, she always expected to have at least some say in whom she married.
But then word had come from Robert the Bruce this past fall that he was taking Loch Doon away from her family and giving her in marriage to some Highlander. Of course, Loch Doon was the Bruce’s to give or take—it was his family’s keep, after all. The Bruce, alongside his father, had built the castle by hand more than a decade ago.
That thought never ceased to amaze Rona, considering the fact that the castle was built on a small island in the middle of a loch. They had rowed every stone that now surrounded her onto the island. Then they’d painstakingly built the imposing eleven-sided curtain wall that protected the tower keep and the other structures within the castle.
Aye, the Bruce had every right to Loch Doon. He had seen fit to place her father, the Laird of the Kennedy clan, in charge of the castle while he was away fighting for independence, and now he had chosen to give it to some third son of the Sinclair clan. But what right did the Bruce have to give her to that Highlander?
Just then, Agnes, huffing and red-faced, burst into her chamber.
“Aye, Laird?” the aged nursemaid puffed in response to Rona’s father’s bellow.
“Daniel Sinclair arrives today. He rides toward Loch Doon village as we speak. He sent a messenger ahead, but he could be here shortly. Rona needs to be prepared.”
Her father’s eyes fell on her once again, and they were sharp with appraisal. “She’ll need a bath, and do your best with that nest of hair. Dress her in her finest gown. I’ll not present her to her husband looking like a servant.”
Though her father spoke firmly to Agnes, Rona didn’t miss the note of worry that laced his voice. No one spoke of it aloud around the castle or the village that sat on the western shore of the loch, but it was well known that Robert the Bruce was displeased with his castle’s keeper. Daniel Sinclair’s arrival meant more than just her impending wedding. Sinclair was also being placed in charge of Loch Doon, which meant that her father would be stripped of his author
ity and sent back to Dunure, the Kennedy clan keep.
The thought made Rona bristle, as it always did. It was easy for the Bruce to judge her father’s actions from afar. The King was so busy fighting his enemies in the north that she doubted he remembered how dangerous it was to live so close to the border—and how delicately one had to proceed to avoid being razed by either the English or the Scottish. Her father was still a loyal Scotsman—even if he had made an alliance with the English to prevent Loch Doon from coming under attack.
Rona was jerked from her thoughts when her father took her arms and gave her a little shake.
“You’ll not shame me, do you hear? I have been too lenient with you, girl, but that is over now. I expect you to be docile and obedient to your new husband. None of this talking back and demanding your way, as you do with me. Your husband will have none of it, and neither will I anymore.”
She felt her temper flare even as she tried to snuff it out for her father’s benefit. She knew he was right. A husband would expect a submissive and biddable wife. Her father had let her get away with much, but whatever sliver of control she’d had over her life would be gone now.
“Aye, Father,” she said, though the meek voice didn’t sound like her own.
He eyed her for another moment, a look of doubt on his face. Muttering a prayer, he turned and exited her chamber, closing the door behind him.
“Let’s see to your preparations, my lady,” Agnes said briskly. “You’ll want to make a good first impression.”
After several hours of scrubbing, cinching, combing, and adorning, Rona barely recognized herself in the polished silver plate that hung in her chamber.
Her red hair, normally wild and wavy, was smoothed and pulled back from her face in braids. The fine blue gown she wore was laced tightly, making it hard to breath. It also accentuated her breasts and waist in a way that the simple gowns she normally wore didn’t. The color made her eyes look even brighter blue and set off her red lips also. Though Agnes had placed a gold circlet on her head, she had taken it off as soon as the maid left. Carrying the circlet on her head made her walk funny, like she had to constantly glide just to keep the thing in place.
Agnes had departed more than an hour ago, judging by the weak winter sunlight straining through the clouds outside Rona’s window. The maid, following Rona’s father’s command, had given Rona strict orders to wait patiently until she was sent for. No one seemed to know exactly when her future husband would arrive, but she could tell from the noises outside her chamber and the activity in the yard below her window that the whole castle was abuzz in preparing for his appearance.
She stood from her desk and practiced her curtsy again.
“How nice to meet you, my lord,” she said sweetly as she bowed her head modestly. “A pleasure to meet you, my lord. An honor to welcome you to Loch Doon, my lord.”
Rona jerked upright, letting her practiced manners and honeyed voice fall. “How nice to meet the complete stranger I am ordered to marry, my lord. How kind of you to take over the castle my family and I have made our home for the last three years, my lord.”
She cursed to herself and began pacing her chamber like a caged cat. How could she possibly hide her true feelings and thoughts from her new husband? How could she learn to bite her tongue and be sweet and supplicating for the rest of her life? How could she simply stop being herself?
Without even realizing what she was doing, she reached behind her back and began untying her tightly cinched gown. She kicked off the thin indoor slippers Agnes had found for her as she shimmied out of the dress. When she was free of all the fine garments, she found the simple green woolen gown she had worn earlier stuffed in the back of her armoire. As the rougher, thicker material slid over her skin, she sighed with relief. She was herself again.
Almost.
There was one thing that always brought her back to herself, one thing that always eased her worries and soothed her temper. But how would she manage to sneak out of Loch Doon, cross the open waters of the loch, and travel through the Galloway woods to her destination?
She glanced out her window again. From high up in the tower keep, she could see the swarm of people moving hurriedly through the yard as they prepared for the arrival of their new lord. The portcullis at the castle’s main entrance stood open as people streamed in and out. Beyond the wall, she could see several boats, some moving toward the castle and others toward the mainland where the village lay to the west. She knew what to do.
Once she had donned a thick winter cloak and her heavier, fur-lined boots, she eased her chamber door open and glanced in both directions. The household staff must be too busy with preparations, she thought with relief. She made her way down the spiral stairs leading to the great hall at the base of the tower keep. Though a few maids passed her on the stairs carrying armfuls of fresh rushes or clean linens for the rooms above, none gave her any notice.
As she passed from the great hall into the yard, she pulled up the hood on her cloak, though everyone seemed too busy to pay attention to her. Without so much as a question or even a lingering look, she walked through the portcullis and to the small docks along the island’s shore where several boats were moored.
Just as she reached the docks, she caught sight of a man untying a small rowboat in preparation to depart.
“May I trouble you for a ride to the mainland?” she called out to the man. “I can pay you, of course.”
“Aye, mistress. I am going to the village anyway,” the weary-looking man replied.
He didn’t seem to recognize her, for which she was grateful. Though she was the lady of the castle, Rona didn’t like to make a spectacle of herself. Her simple attire was usually enough to keep her out of the center of attention, which suited her just fine.
The man extended a hand to her as she boarded the small boat. Then he took up the oars and began rowing toward the western shore.
“Have you made many trips today?” she asked as they hit the open water.
“Aye. The Laird of the castle is in a huff. Someone important is supposed to arrive today, and the Laird has ordered all the boats in the village to transport fresh rushes, extra food for a feast, and even an extra cask of ale from the village brewer. What I wouldn’t give to be inside the castle this evening.”
Despite the winter chill in the air, the man wiped sweat from his brow and sighed. Rona nearly opened her mouth to tell the oarsman that she would rather be anywhere but the castle tonight, but then thought better of it. She was one of the privileged few, and though she was unhappy with her current situation, she always tried to remind herself how lucky she was.
As the little rowboat glided into the village docks, she reached into the pouch she carried on her belt and dug out several coins. “Thank you,” she said as she pressed the coins into the man’s calloused hands. He opened his palm, and she heard a startled gasp followed by a protest that it was too much. But she had already leapt from the boat to the wooden dock, leaving the oarsman sputtering with surprise as she strode away.
Instead of entering the village, however, she turned south toward the forests that surrounded the loch. Though a cold wind whipped her cloak, her pulse hitched and she quickened her pace. She was almost there.
HIGHLANDER’S RECKONING
CHAPTER THREE
The winter sky was transitioning from pale gray to deep charcoal, and though the sun was obscured behind clouds, Daniel guessed that it was near sunset. He’d made better time than he had expected—less than a week to travel from the Highlands to Ayrshire.
The southwest corner of Scotland might as well have been a different country, though. While the Highlands had been blanketed in snow when he left, the Lowlands had only patches of snow in the shadows. Compared to the rugged mountains of the Highlands, the softer, rounded hills surrounding Loch Doon looked more like the English countryside than what he thought of as Scotland.
That thought only served to sour his already foul mood. The journey had be
en hard and wearying, especially alone. Though he should be looking forward to taking charge of a strategically important stronghold, he stewed on the potential mess the castle might be in under Gilbert Kennedy’s control. And instead of warming to the thought of sharing a bed with the Kennedy lass who was promised to him, he bristled at being forced to marry some Lowlander whom he had never even seen.
Now he stood in a large, barge-like boat on the shores of the village that served the castle. Just as the boat pushed off, a weak beam of late sun broke through the clouds, hitting the island that rose out of the loch before him. In the sunbeam, he could make out the strong lines of the curtain wall, with the tower keep rising from within.
The castle looked imposing and impenetrable, an impression which only increased as the barge drew nearer and Daniel got a sense of the scale of the structure. The curtain wall now towered over him, and he could see that each stone had been placed with care and precision. Even though he was weary from his travels, hungry, and in a foul mood at the thought of meeting Kennedy and his future wife, Daniel nevertheless felt a stirring inside his chest at the sight of Loch Doon.
This place is under my care now, he thought with a swell of pride.
The sun faded behind the clouds once again just as the barge reached the docks on the castle’s west side. A young lad who had been accompanying him on the boat ride bolted toward the castle even before the barge had been secured to the dock.
“The new lord is here! The new lord is here!” the boy cried out as he ran under the raised portcullis and into the castle’s yard. Suddenly everyone was running, trying to arrange themselves in orderly rows on either side of the yard for Daniel’s arrival.
Thank God he had sent word earlier in the morning that he would arrive today, otherwise he could only imagine the pandemonium he would be witnessing now. As it was, he frowned as he disembarked from the barge and strode toward the castle’s entrance. Already he could see that he would have a lot to do to get the castle in proper order.
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