Julieta laughed. “Why would he do tha’?”
Lady Fiona shrugged. “If’n it’s money he needs, I feel sure we can lend it tae him wi’out all of this.” She waved her hands about to indicate the mess she was in.
“For sure. So we can conclude that it isnae money that the laird is holding o’er him.”
“What else could it be?” Lady Fiona resumed her pacing.
Julieta shrugged. “Whate’er it is, it mun’ be verra bad.”
Lady Fiona glanced at her, eyes wide before looking away and folding her arms. She came to a stop by the window, looking out into the gathering twilight. “In any case, that isnae our problem. We mun’ think how to get oot o’ this.”
“Ye march up tae the laird and tell him ye willnae do it,” Julieta said at once.
“I cannae. If’n I do, I have tae tell him how I ken. Mr. Campbell still works frae him. I cannae betray him.”
Julieta sighed. “Wha’ then? Wha’ will ye do?”
Lady Fiona matched her sigh for sigh. “I dinnae ken.”
So far, Fiona had avoided having any meal with her uncle because as much as she wanted to believe in him and trust him, she had to admit to herself that she was upset. While he had done all he could to help them during this difficult time, the truth was that she felt rather put upon and pushed around. Her uncle had arranged a marriage for her that she did not even ask for, without even giving her an opportunity to judge the situation for herself.
Having been the primary caregiver since her mother’s death, it did not sit well with her to be told what to do in this way. Especially since her father had always done her the courtesy of asking for her opinion.
Or maybe it’s that you do not agree with his choices? That insidious voice in her mind whispered to her.
She sighed, resolving that it was high time she and her uncle had a talk. Once the bell rang for dinner, she made sure to change her gown and present herself at the dining hall. Her uncle looked up, surprised to see her, and hastily got to his feet.
He bowed. “Lady Fiona. I wasnae expectin’ ye.”
“Aye well, I thought it high time I joined ye for dinner.” She turned to include Laird Hunter in her smile although she knew it was strained. He had also stood up as she entered and favored her now with a smarmy smile.
“Laird Hunter, I am surprised that ye’re able tae stay away from yer holdings frae sae long.” She could not help digging a bit.
His smile widened. “Weel, I came frae my bride and I’m nae leaving wi’out her.” His voice was steely and determined and caused a sliver of ice to travel down her spine.
She had no words so she simply inclined her head and took her seat. Her uncle sat red-faced at the head of the table while Laird Hunter sat opposite her. A plate was placed in front of her which startled her slightly. At Braenaird they always got their own food and so it was an adjustment to be served.
“Th-thank ‘e,” she murmured, nodding and smiling at the serving girl.
The girl looked surprised to be acknowledged but smiled back nevertheless.
She picked up her spoon and tucked into her soup, eating quietly as she pondered on how to proceed. Having her future husband in the room laid waste to her plans of confronting her uncle, but she hoped to at least find out more about how the whole thing was supposed to work.
She looked up and smiled at Laird Hunter. “Tell me more about Glendale. D’ye live there alone or have ye any bairns?”
Hunter choked on his soup. “I beg yer pardon?”
“Weel, I suppose I cannae be yer first wife. Not as auld as ye are.” Fiona did not know why she was deliberately antagonizing him but she knew it made her feel less powerless. Also, his face turning puce was amusing.
“Tha’...I have no bairns,” he bit out.
Fiona nodded. “Is it because ye’re incapable or—”
“Fiona!” her uncle thundered. “Mind yer manners.”
Fiona pursed her lips, gazing at her uncle from beneath her lashes to hide the lack of apology in her eyes. “I’m sorry uncle. I was just—”
“I dinnae care what ye were just...that isnae how ye speak tae yer husband-tae-be!”
Fiona looked from her uncle to her betrothed and then buried her head in her plate, focusing on the meal. She didn’t say another word throughout supper and once she was done she excused herself. Running to her room, she slammed the door behind her only to begin pacing on her balcony, deep in thought. It did not take long for the door to open, and Julieta to come in, peering curiously at Fiona.
“The servants say that supper dinnae go sae well frae Laird Hunter.” She grinned at Fiona.
“Whatever do you mean?” Fiona threw her an absentminded glance, still thinking furiously as she paced.
“Weel, according to the upstairs maid, ye were asking some verra uncomfortable questions.”
Fiona shrugged. “All I asked was if he had any weans. He is definitely advanced in age. Ye cannae tell me this is his first marriage.”
Julieta stepped out onto the balcony and leaned against the door frame. “According tae what I learned, Laird Hunter hasnae actually been married before.”
That got Fiona to stop pacing if only to gawp at Julieta in surprise. “Really? Why is tha’?”
“Naebody kens, or at least, they’re no tellin’.”
“That is passing strange, is it no?”
“Indeed it is ma’am. What will ye do aboot it?”
Fiona sighed. “Och...I might just have tae ask Mr. Campbell frae help.”
Julieta grinned. “I’m sure it’ll be a hardship.”
Fiona picked up the pillow that was nestled on the stone bench of the balcony and threw it at Julieta. Her lady’s maid caught it deftly with a laugh and proceeded to throw it back.
“Ye ken I’m right,” she said before disappearing back into the room. Fiona snorted, turning her back and leaning against the balustrade.
The entire courtyard was laid out before her and she could see a group of soldiers engaged in some friendly sparring. One of the tall, chestnut-haired, broad-shouldered silhouettes looked familiar and she squinted, leaning further forward to try and see if it was indeed Daividh.
The man lifted his claymore and met his opponent with a loud clash of steel on steel. His lithe figure moved gracefully to parry and block the blows from his opponent. She leaned her elbows on the balustrade, watching him intently. Appreciating the way his movements were as liquid as a dancer, his feet and hands working in concert to place him where he needed to be at any given moment. It was beautiful to watch and Fiona was fascinated.
“Will ye want a bath?”
Julieta’s voice startled her and she jumped, turning to face her lady’s maid.
“Not at the noo.” She shook her head, turning back to face the courtyard. Daividh had completed his session and was now talking and laughing with the man he’d been sparring with. Fiona’s eyes narrowed in concentration, trying to think if she’d seen him laugh so freely, so uproariously before.
She shook her head absently, knowing that she hadn’t. She wanted to see him laugh like that again. Laugh with her like that.
“Will ye stare at him all evening?” Julieta’s voice cut into her thoughts and Fiona turned to glare at her.
“I shall stare for as long as I like.”
“Mmm.” Julieta rolled her eyes, letting go of the doorjamb and turning to head back into the bedchamber. “Weel, I shall leave ye tae it. If ye need me, have the footman fetch me from the kitchens.”
“Aye,” Fiona said absently, back to being absorbed in watching Daividh. He was now walking slowly towards the castle, probably headed for the great hall for his meal. Fiona decided to go down as well and see if she could speak to him.
She turned and left her chambers, heading soundlessly to the ground floor of the castle and down the long dark corridor until she reached the great hall. Unlike in her own home, the laird did not join his subjects for their supper, but as a result, the hall was muc
h louder and more raucous than Braenaird Keep had ever been. Diners picked up a plate at a long serving table and then had it filled from two cauldrons filled with stew. At the end of the table, they were given two loaves of bread each.
It wasn’t much for working men, which led Fiona to wonder if diminished circumstances had prompted her uncle to sell her to Laird Hunter. That would serve as a reasonable explanation for his actions. She could even forgive him for it if that was the case. When Daividh had told her that Laird Hunter had her uncle over a barrel, she’d wondered for a minute if he had chosen to sacrifice her out of some form of malice.
She spotted Daividh, sitting at the end of a bench, his food sitting untouched in front of him as he gawked at her, with narrowed eyes. Slowly, she made her way towards him and he stood up, coming to meet her in the middle. “What are ye doing here? Didn’t ye already have supper wi’ the laird?”
Her eyebrow rose in surprise. “How did ye ken tha’?”
He shrugged. “I have my means. What are ye doing here?”
“Looking for ye.”
He noisily expelled the breath from his nose in annoyance. “Why are ye looking for me?”
“I wanted to see if ye would help me.”
He stepped closer, leaning down to look her in the eye. “Help ye wi’ wha’?”
“To find out more about Laird Hunter and what he might want wi’ me.”
Daividh let out a loud laugh, gesturing at her. “Look at ye. Who wouldnae want ye?”
Fiona pursed her lips to stop herself from smiling in response. “While I am indeed flattered at th’ compliment, I dinnae think it is my bonniness tha’ the laird is after. Not if I am the first woman he has sought to marry. Why me? Why the noo? Is it no strange?”
“Ye’re seeing ghouls where none exist, Lady Fiona. I dinnae ken why he hasnae been married before but I’m sure—”
Fiona held up her hand to forestall his reassurances. “Never mind. I should ha’ kenned ye wouldnae help me.” Wheeling around, she stomped away, feeling quite annoyed at having her misgivings dismissed. Daividh looked after her with his mouth open.
She marched down the long corridor, still preoccupied with her annoyance and so was caught quite unawares when she bumped against a hard chest. “Oh,” she cried, extending her hands in a bid to steady herself from stumbling backward. She looked up and was surprised to see Laird Hunter in front of her, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes cold and annoyed.
“I’m sorry.” She almost quailed in fear but stopped herself, straightening her spine and looking him in the eye.
“Are ye? What are ye sorry for? Insulting me? Or fraternizing wi’ the help?”
“Excuse me?”
“Have ye nae just come frae the great hall? What were ye doing there?”
Fiona took a deep, unsteady breath. “I dinnae have tae justify my movements tae ye.”
The laird took a step closer. “Mayhaps not yet. But soon,” he whispered, his eyes boring into hers. She gasped, unable to help her fearful reaction, and took a step back.
The laird took a step to the side and walked around her. She watched him go with a rapidly beating heart, realizing what a daunting opponent he made. He was a powerful laird and she was just a girl. Daividh was simply a warrior in service. If they went up against him, they would lose.
The words of the soothsayer flitted through her mind. You must lose the love of your life in order to win him.
What if she had meant it literally? There was very little stopping the laird from having Daividh killed should Hunter deem him a threat. She had been wrong to try and involve him in her problems.
She whirled around and began to walk determinedly towards the dining hall. She had hardly walked two steps when she again bumped against someone.
“Och!” she cried in irritation, “Forgive me—”
“Nae. Ye are the one who needs to gi’ me forgiveness. I dinnae mean tae dismiss yer worries.”
She looked up into Daividh’s midnight-blue eyes and was at a loss for words. “I-It’s quite alrigh’.”
“Nae it isnae. I shall help ye find oot aboot the laird if ye wish. Whatever ye need.”
Fiona was shaking her head even before he finished speaking. “Nae, nae, I dinnae want ye tae do a thing. Leave it alone. I’m the one who was mistaken.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Are ye sure?”
“Aye. It was my mistake. Dinnae try to find oot a thing. I shall marry the laird and be happy. That is what I want.” Very deliberately, she took a step away from him as he stared at her with open-mouthed disbelief.
“Goodbye,” she said before whipping around and running off to her chambers.
11
The Future is Determined by the Past
Daividh watched Fiona run off with a frown on his face. There was no way the girl could expect him to just sit back while she married the old man. Not after seeing the abject fear in her eyes and the manner in which the laird had spoken to her. He had followed when Fiona stomped out of the great hall and then concealed himself in the shadows when he saw her bump into the laird.
He could not clearly hear their conversation but her body language said enough, as did the sharp cutting edge of the laird’s voice, the contempt in his face. Whatever reason the laird had for wanting her for his wife, he clearly held no tender feelings for her.
That knowledge, strangely, was what freed Daividh from his reticence. If the man did not even care for her, why should he worry about encroaching on the laird’s territory? The girl had asked for his help and he would give it to her. If it resulted in a broken engagement, then so much the better. He was willing to admit that his feelings for the lady were a little more than platonic.
He turned back to the dining hall only to find his friend Simon leaning on the wall, waiting for him. He shook his head slowly. “Daividh, my friend, ye’re playing wi’ fire.”
Daividh wondered if he should feign ignorance. But Simon was more than his friend, he was a brother. Daividh sighed. “I dinnae care. She’s worth it.”
“Just please, tell me ye have a plan.”
“I have a plan.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “Why do I even bother?”
“Because my mither told ye tae look oot frae me afore I left hame?”
Simon pretended sudden enlightenment. “Och aye, I forgot, that’s why!”
Daividh huffed a laugh. “Dinnae fash, I dinnae aim tae do anythin’ too dangerous.”
Simon sighed in resignation. “What d’ye need me tae do?”
Daividh grinned in gratitude. “Cover for me. I have tae go tae Glendale and find oot who this laird is.”
Simon sighed louder. “And then what will ye do eh? There isnae a thing ye can do tae change anything.”
“We dinnae ken tha’.” Suddenly he sobered, looking his friend in the eye. “I have tae try, Simon.”
Simon considered him for a long while. “Och, ye ken I will do all I can tae help ye.”
Daividh nodded, clapping him companionably on the shoulder. “Thank ‘e mo charaid.”
The gravity of her situation hit Fiona in the middle of the night as she lay sleepless in her bed. There was not really much she could do about it though. Her uncle had contracted a marriage for her and aside from Laird Hunter’s death or her uncle changing his mind, she did not see how else she could get out of it.
She turned over to her side with a sigh, wishing that Jamesina was here. She and her sister could always talk about anything.
She sat up suddenly, eyes wide, thinking about her sisters. Laird Hunter had not promised in any specific way to take care of them. She scrambled out of bed, grabbed her robe, and put her feet into her slippers even as she shuffled towards the door.
“Where are ye going?” Julieta’s sleepy voice came from the other side of the room.
“I have tae see my uncle.” Fiona jerked the door open.
“The noo? He’ll be asleep.”
“I dinnae care. I cannae
wait.”
She slipped her robe on as she shuffle-ran down the hall, towards the west wing where her uncle’s rooms were. When she reached his door she fisted her hands, banging on the door to wake him. A footman stood at one end of the corridor, studiously ignoring her.
“Uncle Donnchadh?” she called.
“Wha’...?” She could hear his muffled confused voice even through the thick wood of the door.
“I need tae speak t’ye.”
She heard more muffled movements, and shuffling footsteps, and then the door opened and the laird’s pale face appeared in the gap. “Wha’s this aboot?” he rasped, his voice grumpy.
“My sisters, I have tae ken, Uncle Donnchadh. When I am wed, they will come wi’ me tae Glendale? They’ll be taken care of?”
The laird hesitated, his eyes shifting away.
“Uncle Donnchadh!” She searched his eyes for hope and found none.
“I will see tae them, dinnae fash,” he said quietly, finally meeting her eyes. She could tell he meant it but was not too pleased with the prospect of leaving her sisters behind.
“Why can they no come wi’ me?”
The laird just sighed. “Perhaps later but when a man is newly wed, he doesnae want so many people underfoot. Ye ken?”
Fiona shook her head, indicating her absolute inability to understand. But looking at his face, she knew her uncle could not help her further.
“I will talk tae him,” she declared.
“Fiona!” her uncle called as she hurried away, but she paid him no mind. Rushing down the corridor, she tried to think where Laird Hunter might be housed. She skidded to a stop in front of the footman, considering him thoughtfully.
“Where can I find Laird Hunter?”
The man hesitated, looking towards her uncle’s door. She turned as well, to find that her uncle was still peering at her from his door. She sighed, pursing her lips at him. He hesitated for just a moment before withdrawing his head from the door and shutting it behind him. She turned again to the footman. “Where is he?”
With one final glance at Laird McCormick’s door, the footman pointed further down the corridor to the one remaining door. Fiona was surprised that her uncle would put his guest in the same wing as his, rather than one of the guest wings.
Highlander’s Tempted Guard (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance) Page 8