Grandmama Marion waved a dismissive hand. “Wanting to be a warrior is not a reason not to wed. You know very well your aunt is wed! Women warriors can wed and have bairns,” her grandmama said.
“And ye do nae have another suitor waiting in the wings,” Aunt Elena pointed out, though her tone was gentle.
“So because I do nae have another suitor waiting in the wings I should be made to wed a man I do nae love!” She knew her point had struck the women in her family, as their faces fell and silence followed.
Lenora clutched at Lillith’s hand more desperately now, her fingers digging into Lillith’s palm as she pleaded with her eyes. The silent message was clear: Help me, sister. Save me from this fate.
Lillith felt torn between her own desire to remain unwed and her love for her twin. The thought of Lenora being forced to marry Rory Matheson while pining for Caleb made Lillith’s chest ache. Yet the alternative—that she herself might be pushed toward marriage with the arrogant Rory—made that familiar knot of dread, that had always surfaced when she tried to imagine marriage, tighten in her gut.
“Lillith is right, of course,” her grandmama finally said. “Let us not lose sight in our desperation and fear of the fact that neither of the lasses should be forced to wed a man they do not wish to.”
“I agree,” said Aunt Elena, “but Da is right. We will pay a heavy price if one of the lasses does nae wed the Matheson heir. We are putting many at risk to protect two. Nae to mention therisk to da. He gave his word to the king, and ye ken well that the king will be furious if da breaks his word.”
When Lillith’s grandmama nodded, Lillith burst out, “I think there is another way!”
“Such as?” her grandmama asked.
“We can devise a plan that does nae involve either of us wedding Rory Matheson.”
“Do ye have an idea?” Lenora asked.
“Aye! We must ensure he does nae pick either of us,” Lillith declared. The plan had initially been for just Lenora, but it was now clear that it needed to be for both of them.
Lenora’s grip on her hand loosened slightly, hope dawning in her eyes. “Do ye think such a thing is possible?”
“With the five of us working together?” Aunt Elena said with a fierce grin. “Anything is possible.”
Grandmama Marion nodded her agreement. “I’m certain we can come up with a way to ensure Rory Matheson wants neither of you.”
Lillith watched as her family gathered around the small table beneath the window. They looked like warriors planning a siege, which, she supposed, they were—a siege against the plans of men who thought they could dictate their futures without consequence.
“Lillith, come sit,” her grandmama said.
Lillith shook her head as she paced back and forth. “I think better standing.”
“Just like her granda!” her grandmama crowed, and the love in her voice was so obvious. Lillith pondered that for a moment. Even though grandmama and granda were currently at odds, it was clear that did not diminish the love, and her granda had not ever broken her grandmama’s heart, but still…Lillith gave herself a little shake. She did not know why she was even thinking of such things when she needed to be concentrating onhow to ensure Rory Matheson found the notion of being wed to either of them so repugnant that he’d rather withstand the ire of the king and his da. Lillith snorted. Clearly, he already found her distasteful. Still, it would not hurt to deepen his dislike of her.
“What could Lenora do to appear unsuitable as a wife?” Aunt Elena mused.
“She could declare that she does not want any part of the marriage bed,” Eve suggested.
Lenora’s eyes widened in alarm. “I could nae ever! My face would give me away immediately. I kinnae lie convincingly—ye all know this.”
“Ye’re right,” Grandmama Marion said, patting Lenora’s hand. “We need something that plays to your natural strengths, dear.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps you could simply be exceedingly dull. Say nothing of interest. Stare at him blankly when he speaks. Yawn repeatedly. Men hate to be bored, especially by a pretty face.”
Lillith paced before the hearth, the flames casting dancing shadows across the stone floor. “Ye must talk endlessly about knitting, and herbs, and the weather. Do nae let him speak of himself and do nae ask him!”
Eve clapped. “Very clever, Lillith! Everyone hates not being asked about themselves. Especially men used to feeling important.”
“Interrupt him constantly,” Lillith added, her mind now racing. “But with boring, ridiculous comments.”
“Mayhap ye could also constantly spill stuff on him, as if ye’re verra clumsy,” said Aunt Sebille, to which everyone nodded.
“’Tis a solid plan,” Lillith decreed, and the words drew all eyes to her. The fire popped and hissed beside her, mirroring the agitation she felt.
“When he rejects Lenora, he may turn his attention back to you,” Grandmama Marion said.
“Mayhap,” Lillith considered, “though I sincerely doubt it. It took him but a breath to decide I was nae suitable for him.”
