Kenneth blinked, surprised. “Whom?”
“Laird Alex Oliphant, as it happens.” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes again.
He nodded slowly. “Well, I know you’ve been dreading this for a very long time, and I’m sorry the time has finally arrived. But… as fellows go, I can think of far worse than Laird Alex. That is tae say, he’s nae some horrible old man, and I’ve heard the other lasses talk about his handsome countenance.”
“But I’ve only met him once!” she pointed out. “Years ago! And now we are tae be married? What sort of sense does that make?”
The skinny lad shrugged. “‘Tis the way of things for girls of noble birth.” He paused, then asked, “When will it take place?”
“I am to leave next week,” she sighed heavily. “Shipped off to him as tribute, like a sack of grain. And then, when the wedding night comes…” She shuddered.
“What?” he inquired.
Frustration surged within her, and she was forced to calm herself as best she could, reminding herself that there were certain truths girls were acquainted with and many men were not.
“Kenneth,” she began, “do you remember that afternoon a year ago, up in the hay loft? When we… indulged our natural curiosity, and let things go a bit further than we’d planned to? Quite a bit further, in fact?”
Kenneth blushed, and cast his eyes downward with a sheepish grin. “Aye.”
“Because of what we did… that is, my husband, on our wedding night… he will be able tae tell that he was nae the first man I gave myself to.”
He frowned, confused. “How?”
“There are certain ways.” She had no desire to explain them to him in detail—indeed, she didn’t even want to think of them herself if she could help it, since she was already anxious enough.
His jaw went slack. “I had no idea!” he stammered. “I-If I’d known… oh, Isla, I never would’ve…”
“There’s no need for that,” Isla told him firmly. “I’m as much tae blame as you are, and that’s the truth. I should have put a stop tae it before it reached that point. I was simply… caught up in the fun of the moment, as you were.”
“What will you do, then?” he asked. “That’s part of these arranged marriages, after all, isn’t it? The bride must be, er… ‘unspoiled,’ as it were?”
“‘Unspoiled?!’” Isla leaned over and smacked him hard on the arm, eliciting a yelp of pain.
“Well, it’s naemybloody word, now is it?” he protested, rubbing the sore spot. “What are you going tae do?”
“I dinnae ken,” she admitted helplessly. “There must be some way for me tae hide this from him. I only need tae figure it out before…” She trailed off.
“Again, I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “‘Twas only meant tae be a bit of… curiosity, that’s all. I never would’ve done anything of the sort if I’d known what sort of trouble it’d bring you later.”
“‘Tis all right, Kenneth,” Isla assured him. “I dinnae hold it against you. As I’ve said, I cannae deny my own part in it.” And it surely could have led to a far more unpleasant conclusion, she added mentally, thinking of the havoc it would have wrought if she’d ended up bearing a child as a result of their mutual “curiosity.”
He gave her a wan smile. “You’ve always been a good friend tae me, Isla. I’ll miss you terribly.”
“And I you,” she answered. “It’ll be difficult indeed, not having you to confide in.”
They shared a hug, and then Kenneth ambled away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
She’d never loved Kenneth—nor had he truly loved her—but they had liked each other tremendously their entire lives. What had happened between them that day in the hay lofthadbeen mere exploration, nothing more. It had been recklessness on her part which had made them go too far, but that day, marriage had seemed like something she would be able to put off forever.
Now it was staring her in the face, and there was no escaping it.
Several days later,Laird Alex sat in his study. He busied himself with the day-to-day affairs of running the clan. Other lairds might have entrusted these menial matters to their advisors, but Alex took far more satisfaction from attending to them himself, so that he could be certain they were handled to his exacting specifications.
There was a knock at the door. “Enter,” he called out without looking up from the papers before him.
Lady Lorna Aitken walked in, looking as poised as ever. She was a year younger than Alex, short yet commanding, with auburn hair in a thick braid and vivid brown eyes. She had lost her parents in a fire when she was a wee girl, and so then-Laird Douglas took her in and adopted her, for all of his children were boys and he’d always fancied the idea of raising a lass alongside them. When Douglas’s wife perished from fever a few years later, Lorna had helped with the raising of the younger children, making her something between a sister and a mother to Alex. Her mind was sharp, and on occasion, her tongue could be as well.
In her hand, she held a letter bearing the seal of the MacDonell Clan. “This just arrived for ye,” she informed Alex, giving it to him. “The messenger is down in the kitchen with the servants, waitin’ tae see if ye intend an immediate response.”
