Thalia nodded, her sister’s words somewhat easing her panic.
Ava was right. Their uncle was not their father. Thalia would make it in time, and everything would be well.
Thalia rode for three days straight, stopping only to allow the horse the proper time to rest before resuming the ride. She ate as she rode, not even allowing herself to sleep for fear she would waste too much precious time. Exhaustion weighed on her, but the thought of her uncle breathing his last in his bed was enough to keep her going.
At last, MacFinn Castle came into view. It seemed to rise up from the ground as she rode steadily up the hill towards it. The brick and spires stood as tall and firm as the day she had left two years ago.
The sight of her childhood home caused a bittersweet stab of nostalgia low in her chest.
She pushed the feeling away. There was no use getting emotional when she needed to focus on the task at hand. As she grew closer, she could see a large gathering of people outside the castle. Panic seized her as she thought the worst had happened,but upon closer inspection, she realized that the crowd was in the midst of a celebration.
There was music and dancing, with people cheering and drinking in merriment. It had been some time since Thalia had enjoyed a cèilidh, but she could still recognize one when she saw it.
A cèilidh? While their Laird lay ill?
She slowed her horse to a trot and scanned the crowd for a familiar face. She found one under a curly mop of dark auburn hair.
“Kenna!” she cried, drawing the attention of the older woman.
“Lady Thalia!”
Thalia dismounted the horse in one smooth motion, rushing to greet her old nursemaid. They embraced quickly, but Thalia’s mind was only on one thing.
“Me uncle,” she said. “I’m nae too late, am I?”
“Nay!” Kenna replied. “Yer uncle’s just inside. He’s waitin’ for ye. But…” She paused, giving Thalia a good once-over. “Maybe ye should go and make yerself more presentable first?”
“There’s nay time for that,” Thalia said, unsure why her appearance should matter so much. The only thing that mattered was making sure her uncle’s health improved. “Can ye make sure that someone takes me horse to the stables? It’s been a long ride, and he needs proper care.”
“Leave him to me. Now, off ye go!” Kenna shooed her off.
Thalia raced up the stairs towards the main entrance. The doors were already thrown wide open, allowing the celebration to filter in and out.
She pushed past the guests as she made her way towards what appeared to be the center of the festivities. Standing there, in the middle of everyone, was her uncle, Archibald Dougal, the Laird Clan MacFinn.
He smiled as he saw her, holding out his arms in a gesture of welcome. “Thalia! Ye’re here! Now we can begin.”
Thalia stared at him. He was not only out of bed, but he also didn’t appear to be ill at all. The letter she had received said that he was deathly ill. Perhaps he had a miraculous recovery? That would explain the celebration at least, but it did not explain the men who stood with him.
“Uncle…? But…”
Slowly, she took in the priest who stood by his side. A kind, elderly man dressed in black robes and a white overlay. Anotherman stood on his other side, tall, lean, with bright red hair and grey eyes that looked at her as if she were a new pet.
She felt like a heavy stone had dropped into her stomach. She did not like the look of this. Not at all.
“I’m sorry for foolin’ ye, but it was the only way to get ye here so quick,” Archibald said. “Ye’ve been with yer sister for too long. She’s settled with her laird husband, and I hear the new bairn is strong and healthy. Thalia, it’s time for ye to think of yer own future. Yer own happiness.”
“I daenae understand.” Thalia shook her head. “What are ye sayin’?”
Archibald gestured to the man beside him. “Harrison MacKay, the Laird of Clan MacGibbon, has been kind enough to propose marriage to the last MacFinn lass. He’s offered a worthy sum, as well as the promise of peace between our clans.”
Thalia looked around the room at the guests, at the celebration that was happening around her. It had all been a trick, just to get her here. To this sham of a handfasting.
“Uncle,” she tried again. “I came here because I thought ye were dyin’.”
“Nay, I’m thrivin’!” he cried cheerfully. At her lack of enthusiasm, he paused. “What’s wrong? Do ye nae like me surprise, lassie?”
Thalia shook her head. “Nay, I daenae.”
