by Amanda Scott
When she did not comment, he experienced a moment of uncertainty. “Look at me, Catriona.” When she did, he said, “Art sure that you do not agree that it was? I would not blame you if you did. I know that we talked about—”
“Ivor believed that you should leave. That is enough for me, Fin Cameron, just as it was for you. Sakes, no sensible person could believe that a man who outlasted his opponents and twenty-nine of his companions on such a day is a coward.”
Her tone made it impossible to disbelieve her. He began to relax.
“There is another thing, though,” she said. “Since you were able to intervene with Rothesay, I do think you might have stood up to my father as well. Marrying you is a far better fate than marrying Rory Comyn, but if you let them force you—”
“I think you know that at this point I have as little to say about it as you do,” he said. “If you want me to tell them that you still oppose the match, I will. But you ken fine that they care more about protecting you than acceding to your wishes.”
“Will you really tell them that I don’t want them to make me marry you?”
“I will.”
“They may listen to you,” she said. “Go and do it then. I warrant Father must be waiting for you across the hall with Ivor and James.”
Accordingly, Fin walked to the landing with her and watched until she had vanished around the first curve of the stairs. Then, rapping on the door across the way and hearing only silence, he opened it to an empty room.
“Beg pardon, sir.”
Turning, he saw Tadhg on the stairs below him. “Aye, what is it?”
“The laird be in the inner chamber wi’ the Mackintosh and them. He would see ye there now that her ladyship has gone up for the night. And, sir?”
“What else?”
“I say it be a fine notion that ye be going tae marry our lady Catriona.”
“Sakes, does the whole castle know what goes on here tonight?”
“Nay, sir, but I were at hand when the laird told the Mackintosh it be all set.”
“I’ll go down at once, Tadhg. Prithee, go to my room and tell my squire that I shall be along shortly. He is to wait for me. But do not share this news with him.”
Waiting only for the boy’s assent, Fin went down to the hall.
When Aodán admitted him to the inner chamber, he saw not only Shaw and the Mackintosh but their ladies, Rothesay, and Alex Stewart as well. Donald had apparently retired for the night, and neither James nor Ivor was there, nor Morag.
Fin wished Ivor were there. Without him, he felt alone against many again.
Rothesay grinned at him, clearly still enjoying himself, and Alex also looked amused. Shaw looked as stern as usual, the Mackintosh quietly pleased.
Catching the lady Ealga’s eye, Fin received a warm smile.
Lady Annis eyed him more measuringly.
“Is all well above?” Shaw asked him.
With Rothesay and Alex there, Fin said only, “Aye, sir,” and hoped Shaw would know that he preferred to say no more than that in their presence.
Rothesay said, “How could it be otherwise? ’Tis grand to be so delightfully amused as we have been this evening. We must proceed at once with the wedding.”
Catriona reached her landing to find Boreas lying at her door, his small gray shadow curled tightly atop him. The dog blinked at her, moving only its tail. The kitten raised its head and greeted her with a plaintive “mew.”
Opening the door to let them in, she felt her mood lighten and realized that her last exchange with Fin had still weighed on her mind. She felt as if she had cast him into the briars again. But he did enjoy debating anything with her, so it had seemed reasonable that he might persuade Shaw and her grandfather that the wedding need not take place. Not yet. Perhaps later… someday.
She sighed. The fact was that she did want to marry him, very much.
Just thinking of his touch was enough to make her feel it again through every fiber of her body. When he held her, she felt as if she belonged in his arms.
She could recall no one since childhood who had comforted her so tenderly. Perversely, that thought made her wonder if her insistence that she could take care of herself had made him think her childish. He had called her “lassie” then, had he not?
Pondering that thought while Boreas and his kitten resettled themselves beside the bed, she realized that Ailvie ought to be there. But the washstand ewer was empty, so perhaps it was not as late as she had thought.
Moving to look out the window, she tried to decide if she would like being married. The thought of leaving home still chilled her to the bone. And Fin had not ever responded when she’d told him that she had not changed her mind about that.
Perhaps he understood her feelings and would live at Rothiemurchus. If so, when he had to follow Rothesay into battle or elsewhere, she could stay with her family instead of with enemy strangers whom he must barely know himself by now.
She was still pondering so when the latch clicked and the door opened.
Assuming that it must be Ailvie, she said without turning, “I wondered if I should have to send for you. Is it not growing late?”
The door shut, and the last voice she expected to hear then said, “Ailvie is not here because I sent my woman to tell her not to come until I send for her.”
“Grandame!” Catriona exclaimed, turning. “What are you—? That is…”
“I have heard of some strange ways to announce a wedding, Catriona,” Lady Annis said tartly. “But the usual custom is not for the bride to declare her intention so publicly, nor so directly to the heir to Scotland’s throne. Do you not think that you might at least have told someone before now that young Sir Finlagh attracted you? He does do so, I trust, since you must marry him tonight.”
“Tonight! But he said—”
“Never mind what he may have said. Rothesay wants to see a wedding at once. And your grandfather means to provide him with one, because he decided some time ago that this Fin of the Battles is an excellent choice for you.”
“D-did he?” Catriona could scarcely breathe, let alone respond sensibly.
“Aye, he did. Sithee, he knew from the moment he clapped eyes on him that the lad was a Cameron. And not just any Cameron, mind you, but the son of the great archer, Teàrlach MacGillony, which makes him perfectly suitable to marry you.”
“It does?”
“Aye, sure, because coming from that branch of the family, he is just the sort of match, your grandfather says, to help him keep this truce in place betwixt the Camerons and Clan Chattan. That is of the utmost importance, he says.”
“But, Grandame, I—”
“This decision is not about you, Catriona, so you can put that notion right out of your head. And if you mean to cause trouble by losing your temper or enacting some other drama, I strongly advise you to think again. Your father is not in a mood to be either amused or indulgent. In troth, you should be grateful that I persuaded him and your grandfather that I should be the one to relay their decision to you.”
“Prithee, if you will just—”
“Hush,” Lady Annis commanded, determined as usual to have the last word. “Rothesay means to have his way. So you will be sleeping tonight with the man.”
Catriona’s imagination promptly produced an image of Rothesay in her bed, but there was naught in that image to amuse her, and she knew that it was not what Lady Annis had meant. But she did not want to think about Fin in her bed either.
That image was much too disturbing, and if she was to retain any respect for herself, she could think about only one thing now.
As she strode to the door, Lady Annis exclaimed, “Where are you going?”
“To end this,” Catriona declared. She could not recall ever defying her grandmother before. But she could not let them force Fin to marry her even if she was as angry with him now as she was with herself and everyone else.
After Rothesay’s declaration that the wedding should proceed at onc
e, Fin had tried to catch Shaw’s eye, hoping to indicate that they needed to talk. But the conversation had immediately become general, with the women and Alex Stewart exclaiming and asking questions about how the wedding should proceed.
Lady Annis had exchanged a look with the Mackintosh and then left the chamber, declaring that she would inform Catriona of their decision.
“There can be no difficulty about a priest,” Rothesay said in answer now to a question from Lady Ealga. “There are many ways around that, but we’ll just roust out the real mendicant friar amongst Donald’s lads and let him marry them.”
Shaw, listening to them, seemed unaware of Fin’s tension.
Alex still looked amused, as if he watched the antics of jesters.
Seizing on a pause that fell, Fin said, “With respect, my lords, I believe that such a hasty affair may not serve as well as one accomplished with more thought.”
The Mackintosh said testily, “The lass blurted it out to all and sundry, Fin. So there is no reason to delay and every reason to proceed. I ken fine that this puts ye in an unfortunate position, lad—with your own folks not being here,” he added with a glance at Rothesay. “In troth, though, ye’ve been spending so much time with the lass that it has stirred speculation, as such behavior always does. So unless ye expect now to give her the lie and look as if ye’ve been trifling with her—”
“You know I won’t do that, sir. By my troth, I do want to marry her.”
He meant that. No longer was he doing the honorable thing or one that he did not mind doing. Catriona had come to mean much more to him than that.
Even so, he had promised that he would speak for her.
“However,” he added, looking from one man to the next, “I must tell you that… that even now her ladyship is having second thoughts. She—”
“Nae doots, she’ll be nervous, what with Rothesay here, and all,” the Mackintosh interjected. “But her grandame will see to her.”
“Aye, lad,” Shaw said. “ ’Tis better to do it at once before the rumors start.”
“Then that be settled,” Mackintosh said. “Sakes, but ye cannot wait about whilst she has bride clothes made and the like. Rothesay wants to get back to his own business as soon as he reaches agreement with Alex and Donald. Also, lad, if ye marry quick, ye’ll have time to enjoy your lass afore ye have to leave with him.”
As Fin opened his mouth to respond, the door flew open and the lass he was supposed to enjoy strode into the room, her golden eyes flashing.
She fixed her gaze on him at once. “I thought you were going to tell them, sir. Instead, we are now going to marry at once? Sakes, but I—”
Shaw said curtly, “Catriona, that will do!”
She turned to him next. “Will it, Father? God-a-mercy, you may order me to bed one moment and command me to marry the next, but you must not force F—”
Her words ended in a gasp and a cry when Shaw’s hard slap silenced her.
“Not another word,” he snapped. “To shame your lord grandfather and me by behaving so before such a company surpasses anything ye’ve done before! Ye’ll do as we bid you, or by God, I will make you sorrier than you have ever—”
“No, sir,” Fin cut in coldly. “You will not. Not unless you want me to call an end to my part in this marriage right now.”
Chapter 14
Catriona had heard her father’s threat, but distantly, because from the moment she put a hand to her fiery cheek, she had been gazing in shock at the others in the chamber. She realized with dismay that her anger had blinded her to the fact that Alex and Rothesay were there.
She had seen only Fin at first and had expressed herself as if they had been alone until Shaw’s command had diverted her anger to him.
She did hear what Fin had said, though, and the ice in his voice sent shivers up her spine. Waiting for Shaw’s response, she did not even breathe.
He’d flicked a glance at Fin and still glared at her, but he did not speak.
An ache filled her throat, and the silence lengthened until Fin said, “My lord Rothesay, I would take it kindly if you would allow her ladyship and me to be privy with her family… for a short time, at least, sir.”
Another silence fell, but it was brief, because Alex Stewart got up, saying, “Come along, Davy. We’ll find someone to wake up that friar of Donald’s.”
Hearing Rothesay’s chuckle, Catriona watched as he got to his feet, made her a slight bow, and left. Turning back to her father, she knew she ought to feel some relief with Rothesay and Alex gone. But, eyeing the still angry Shaw, she felt none.
When she heard her grandmother’s voice in the background, bidding the two great lords goodnight, she felt worse. Lady Annis was only too likely to share her granddaughter’s earlier defiance of her with the others.
However, everyone’s attention shifted back to Fin when he said, “Pray, madam, be sure that that door is shut fast.”
Catriona was astonished when her grandmother said quietly, “It is, sir.”
“Good,” Fin said. “By your leave now, Shaw MacGillivray, I would speak privily with your daughter. Before I do, though, I will make my position clear to you all. Davy Stewart has tried to make a farce out of this business simply to amuse himself. I will not allow that to continue.”
“How d’ye propose to stop him, lad?” the Mackintosh asked curiously.
“You may leave that to me, sir. In return, I will endeavor to persuade the lady Catriona… again… that her best course is to accept this marriage, as I do. I will also insist, however, that we marry tomorrow instead of tonight. But,” he added when Catriona stiffened, “I will not employ threats or allow anyone else to do so to achieve that course. I sincerely apologize for my curtness to you just now, sir,” he said to Shaw. “But I will not accept a bride who must be beaten into marrying me. Nor do I think you want a good-son who would allow that. Would you, sir?”
“Nay, lad. In troth, I’m fast coming to hope that I’ll have ye in his stead.” Shaw put out his hand, and when Fin gripped it, Catriona relaxed at last.
The Mackintosh said, “If ye’re sure about tomorrow, Fin, I’ll tell Rothesay m’self. Ye can smooth over aught that ye need to smooth with him afterward.”
“He has likely realized already that something has gone awry,” Fin said.
“Aye, well, I’ll draw on his vast knowledge of women, then,” Mackintosh said with a twinkle. “I can say it be more seemly to wed by daylight and will thus make the lass happier. I’ve other things to suggest, too, and I’ll want Shaw with me. Annis and Ealga will retire to the ladies’ solar, so that ye two may bide here.”
“Thank you, sir,” Fin said. In a blink, Catriona was alone with him, but if she expected her trial to be over, she soon learned her error.
“I have something to say before we discuss any marriage,” he said with the same chilly edge to his voice as when he had spoken to Shaw.
Swallowing hard, she said, “What is it?”
“Simply, that if I ever again hear you talk that way, to me or to anyone else in authority over you, I’ll react much as your father did. I hope I would never slap you in the midst of such a company, but be sure that I would soon put you over my knee. So keep that in mind as we continue, for as much as I would dislike taking a bride whose father had to beat her into marrying me would I dislike marrying one who believed that I would not react as sternly to such rudeness.”
“You do frequently stir my temper, though,” she reminded him.
“And when I do, you may tell me so,” he said, putting a warm hand to her sore cheek. His voice gentled as he said, “I’ll expect you to tell me civilly, lass, although I will allow for temper, as I hope you will for me. Also, I’ll have much more tolerance in private than if you hurl my faults at me before an audience.”
“Particularly such an audience as I chose tonight,” she said ruefully. “That was not well done of me. By my troth, though, I saw no one but you. I was furious to learn that after you’d said you w
ould persuade them, they were going to force you to marry me at once. I… I don’t remember ever being as angry with anyone as I was then with you, even though they were doing it. Why do you suppose that is?”
Instead of trying to answer the unanswerable question, Fin gently stroked her reddened cheek and said, “Art still angry with me now, little wildcat?”
“Nay,” she murmured, and he was glad to see a tiny smile as she did. “I’m still unsure about all this, though. It happened so suddenly, and it seems so unfair to you, especially when it was my own unruly tongue that caused all the trouble.”
“Davy caused it,” Fin said. “He has complained of boredom, and when he is bored—or frustrated, as he also is—he makes mischief, with females or otherwise. In this case, it was both. But, see here, lass, you are wrong if you think they have forced me into a wedding. You heard how easily I can stop it, and I will do it if you are still reluctant to marry me. But if you are willing to risk it, I am more so.”
“Do not try to cajole me, sir. You did not come here seeking a wife.”
“Nay, but I did find someone who will suit me if she will just agree to it.”
“I am not unwilling. I am terrified.” To his surprise, tears welled into her eyes. “I don’t want to live amidst strangers who have so long been our enemies.”
“But you would live with me,” he said.
“Only when you were at home. Men are forever going off—to battle, to St. Andrews, to all manner of places. And they always leave their womenfolk behind. I don’t want to live as miserably in Lochaber as Morag lives here.”
“I doubt that you would,” he said. “You are too warm, too competent, and too wise to live so. You also dwell less on your feelings than your good-sister does. I believe that you will make fast friends easily, wherever we live.”
“But I like solitude, too,” she reminded him. “Would I be as free to roam the mountains in Lochaber as I usually am here?”
Knowing that any discussion of that subject would undo the progress he had made, he said mildly, “We can talk about that sort of thing anon. For now, I just want to know if you will marry me, Catriona. I hope that you will say aye.”