CHAPTERONE
Lorna McAdams paced fervently in the guest chamber that she and her friend occupied, wringing her hands, and picking at the ends of her flowing blonde hair. She was of medium height, with a short button nose that complemented her brown eyes and elegant frame. But she could not sit still for even a moment. There was too much at stake.
“Will ye stop toying with yer hair?” her friend and lady’s maid, Kyla, asked, sitting up a bit in her chair. “I’ve only just got it sorted!”
“Och how can I, Kyla?” Lorna fussed, walking over to the water basin and splashing a little bit of the cool liquid on her face. “It’s all just happening so fast! I donnae ken what tae make of it!”
“Donnae makeanythingof it,” Kyla scoffed. Kyla was smaller than Lorna, with red hair and freckles, and an adoring, sly smile. “Why do ye always have tae fuss?”
“Fuss?” Lorna scoffed. “How can I nae? He’s getting married in a matter of hours! Just look at him down there!” Lorna returned to the window, glancing down, watching Watt pointing around, guiding the peasants carrying a large wooden table.
“He certainly looks the part,” Kyla remarked, walking up beside Lorna at the window. “What a fine tunic,” she teased.
“Yer nae helping anything,” Lorna said bitterly, her hands coming back together in frustration.
“And neither are ye!” Kyla shot back. “We’re going tae the wedding, and ye’re going tae enjoy yerself!”
“Och come off it,” Lorna said, her eyes lingering on Watt down in the yard. She had loved him for years, wrapped up in his charisma and kind eyes, and now she had to watch him be married. She had confessed her love to him once, but he had rebuffed her, and she had carried that around for several years.
“I am going down tae talk with him,” Lorna said, biting her lower lip.
“Ye are nae,” Kyla replied, casting a tough look her way. “Ye need tae be realistic.”
“Realistic?” Lorna laughed. “What is realistic, is that after he is married, he will never speak tae me again!”
“Ye are being childish,” Kyla said in a higher, taunting tone. “This love ye hold for him is nae real love.”
Lorna ignored that. Kyla didn’t understand anything about how she felt about Watt. She never had. “I have tae talk with him. One last time,” Lorna insisted. “It is the only way!”
“Way for what?” Kyla asked. “Ye will never be married tae him, ye need tae let it go! Turn yer eyes tae someone else, someone who cares for ye. Yer parents would want that!”
“Cares for me?” Lorna laughed. “And who in the next hundred miles does that? Besides him there.” They both turned back to the window and watched Watt for a moment more as he stood up on a crate to better direct the wedding preparations.
“He is handsome, though, is he nae?” Kyla murmured, and they both watched for a while longer, Lorna still wringing her hands together. Then their eyes were caught by a lone rider entering the yard, strong and stoic. He dismounted and approached Watt, and the two embraced, the rider’s hood falling down to his back, and both of the women took a breath.
“My God,” Kyla whispered. “He’s back.”
They both watched silently as Bryce and Watt conversed briefly and then began to walk towards the keep.
“Little Bryce MacDowell,” Kyla said as they passed out of view and entered the keep. “He certainly has grown.”
“He has been gone for years,” Lorna said.
“I heard he fought with Joan of Arc at Orleans,” Kyla went on.
“One hears all kinds of things,” Lorna said bitterly, her cheeks turning a bit red.
“What’s the matter?” Kyla asked. “Ye’re not happy he’s back?”
“He was never kind tae me,” Lorna said, trying to stop blushing.
Why did he have tae come, today of all days?
“Times change,” Kyla mused, looking Lorna up and down. “Perhaps his time abroad has made him something new.” Kyla had no clue how correct she was, and no framework to conceptualize the depths of his transformation. They lingered on the thought of Bryce for a time, until Lorna’s mind quickly turned back to Watt, and she felt the urgency of his wedding once more.
“I have tae speak with him,” she said again, trying to refocus her efforts. She had a job to do, and she was going to do it, or else the moment would pass forever, and he would forever be out of reach.
“Lorna!” Kyla said, reaching out to grab her arm. “Ye will nae!”
