The time Fionn spent washing was much less than the time he spent playing, and soon the man and child left the water and dried themselves. Skye’s view was hindered by the bush in front of her, but it was what she heard from the Laird and Fionn that astonished her.
“Are ye taking a bath for the wedding?” Fionn asked.
“Aye, I am, Fionn. Ye will find out when ye are older that women prefer men that daenae stink like ye do most of the time,” Arran joked.
Fionn, now dry, grabbed his kilt and started to dress, looking deep in thought. “And ye care what Lady Skye thinks of ye?” he asked seriously.
“I do. And ye should too when ye find a lass ye want to marry.”
“Does she want to marry ye, me Laird? She didnae seem too sure yesterday.”
Arran nodded. “Nay, she didnae. But she will be in danger if she doesnae.”
From her hiding place, Skye poked her neck around the tree to hear more.
“And ye can keep her safe?”
“I can. Once we are wed, she is mine. And I willnae allow anyone to harm what belongs to me,” Arran replied confidently. “I would give me life to keep her safe. As her husband, that is me promise to her.”
“Do ye have to love a woman to marry her, me Laird?” Fionn asked.
“What’s up with all the serious questions, laddie?” Arran responded. When Fionn didn’t answer, he said, “No, ye daenae have to love a woman to marry her, Fionn. But what I said before is true, whether there is love or nae.”
Skye’s heart nearly burst, and tears welled up in her eyes. She believed him.
“I like Lady Skye. I daenae want to see her hurt.” Fionn smiled. “I hope ye are safe too—when Blackwell comes and all.” he added as an afterthought.
Arran ruffled the boy’s hair. “Daenae worry, Fionn. I plan to keep us all safe.”
They gathered their things and then left.
Skye sat down on the ground, her mind racing once more. She thought Arran brash, even selfish, for putting the pursuit of his lands before her, but watching him with Fionn showed her another side to him.
He said he would die for her. He barely knew her, but he would die to keep her safe. That was his duty, and he was honor-bound to keep that vow. Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind.
“Find yerself a good man, Skye. One who values ye more than gold and power.”
Skye stood up and glanced around the tree. When she didn’t spot anyone else in the loch, she took a tentative step out and then walked back the way she’d come. It wasn’t long before the trail split in two, one that led back to the castle and one that led to the surrounding lands.
She stood there for what seemed like forever, looking left and right. She wished more than anything that her mother was there.
Arran may nae value me, nae in the way Faither valued Maither, but I believe he is honorable.
Finally, she moved.
By the time Skye stepped into the back of the castle just over an hour later, she’d already fabricated a story to explain herabsence. If anyone asked, she’d say that she got nervous about getting married and needed some fresh air.
It wasn’t a complete lie.
She muttered a quick prayer of thanks when she made it to her chamber without running into Nellie or any of the other maids. But her relief was short-lived. There was a breakfast tray on her table, so at least one person knew she’d left her room.
There’s nothing I can do about that now.
She grabbed a piece of bread and took a small bite, before placing it back on the tray.
A knock sounded at the door, but before Skye could answer, Nellie entered, carrying the wedding dress in her arms and smiling at her.
“Ye’ve hardly eaten a bite!” Nellie exclaimed when she saw the barely touched tray. “That willnae do. I willnae have ye faintin’ at the altar,” she added in a tone that brooked no argument.
