“Arran, where is everyone?”
“At the kirk, perhaps?” Colin suggested.
“Hmm,” Skye murmured. “But the guests… Where are their horses? The courtyard and stables should be overflowing.”
The trio walked past the keep entrance and rounded the corner to the kirk. But the kirkyard was also empty, and the doors were closed.
Skye ran to the doors and threw them open. The chapel was empty. This could not be! The wedding should be here! But where were the guests? More than that, where where the bride and groom?”
“Arran, I daenae ken. The wedding is today, so where are they?”
She watched as Arran looked around the empty chapel, and then he started pacing as he thought.
“He tricked us,” he said finally.
“What do ye mean? He’s nae getting married?” Colin asked.
“Nay. He’s gettin’ married, just nae here. I think he’s at the kirk in Glen Aonarach.”
“That doesnae make sense, me Laird. Why would he go there?”
Skye knew why, and her heart sank. Blackwell, with his never-ending desire to boast about his power and a penchant for cruelty, would marry on the lands that Arran’s grandfather lost.
“Of course, he would!” she snapped suddenly. “He wants to flaunt to all of the Highlands that with this union, Arran’s lands will remain with the MacKeiths.”
“Aye, ye are right, Skye. He wants to leave me with nay recourse.”
“But do we have time, Arran? Aonarach is several hours’ ride from here.”
“The wedding party would have left early this morning, so they are well ahead of us. However, their travel will be slow. We might catch up if we ride swiftly.”
Colin, Arran and Skye wasted no time in getting back to their horses. Once out of the courtyard, they urged their mounts into a gallop and sped toward Glen Aonarach.
“Arran, have ye thought about what will happen if we daenae make it in time? Will it really be so bad?”
Arran thought for a moment and then replied, “At our wedding, Skye, I let meself think that the land didnae matter. Me clan was so happy. They celebrated with me, with us. And when I was sick, the care they gave me made me think that they could forgetthe lost lands, and this doubt and worry about me leadership could be put behind us.”
“I think ye are right, Arran. I think the clan could move on.”
“But then I spoke with Magnus,” he continued in a weary tone. “He said that me faither’s will was ironclad. He made his wishes clear, and the council was in complete agreement. It cannae be undone.”
He looked at her guiltily. “And if I daenae get the lands back, then ye should never have married me. If I daenae stop this marriage, then I’ll lose the chance at ever gettin’ the lands back, and ye’d have married a pauper, Skye. Ye will have nothing.”
Skye fell silent as she absorbed his words. “I would have a great deal more than nothing,” she declared with conviction, but she knew she did not have the time or confidence to explain to him how much he meant to her. “What is most important is stopping the weddin’. Nae because of the lands, nae even because of ye losing Clan MacArthur, but because another woman is about to be deceived by Blackwell.”
He looked up at her and nodded. “Ye are right! And if we stand a chance, then we must go now.”
The group rode steadfastly onward. They put the horses to a ground-eating pace that they could maintain. When the beasts tired, they got off and walked them, before climbing back aboard and continuing on. When the road turned into a narrow path, they slowed their horses to a walk, letting them pick their way.
An hour passed, and Skye heard nothing but the wind wailing down the mountainside and the horses’ ehooves hitting the hard-packed ground. She was tense, and she worried. She glanced over at Arran and saw him staring ahead, his gaze unwavering, his jaw set with determination.
Colin scanned their surroundings, looking for any threats.
The stakes were high, and Skye knew that failure wasn’t an option. She had to try and save this woman.
And help Arran’s clan get their lands back.
The sun hung in the west over the rugged landscape, signaling it was late afternoon, as Skye, Arran, and Colin, and Arran’s men arrived at Glen Aonarach. Tall pines loomed over their path, providing shade from the warm afternoon sun. The sound of rushing water from a nearby stream grew louder as they approached the kirk nestled in a small clearing.
