It took her a moment to realize what he was suggesting.
Beatrix turned as white as the chemise she was wearing. Her big blue eyes rounded like two big coins, dominating her stricken face. “In his bed?” she echoed in a strained whisper.
“You can’t be serious,” Christina said in a state of stunned disbelief, completely forgetting herself. He would ruin his daughter to force a man to marry her?
Her father turned on her, his eyes as hard as two black rocks. “I assure you I’m very serious.” He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Nothing will happen. It will be for only a few minutes. All Beatrix need do is slide into bed beside him while he’s sleeping. I will come ‘find’ her a few minutes later. Her virtue will be safe enough.”
Christina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had her father lost all honor?
“But it’s trickery,” she said aghast. “It’s dishonorable.”
His hand clenched and for a moment she feared she had gone too far. She flinched, waiting for the blow, but the ball of his fist stayed at his side. “You stupid girl, how dare you talk to me of honor! What are a few minutes, when I spent three years in Edward’s dungeons for Scotland and honor? What do you know of war and sacrifice?” His face was florid, his rage nearly out of control. He grabbed her arm and jerked her to look at his face. “I will hear no more of your foolish objections. This will achieve our ends and that is all that matters.” He released her, pushing her away from him as if he didn’t trust himself not to hurt her. “Beatrix will make him a fine wife. He will recognize it soon enough and thank me for it.”
It seemed she had her answer: Her father would stop at nothing to achieve his purpose.
Beatrix huddled in a ball, shaking. “I can’t,” she said, tears choking her voice. “I won’t do it.”
Christina felt a swell of pride at her sister’s defiance—until she saw her father stride over to the bed. “You will,” he threatened, lifting his hand. “Or it will not be just my hand you feel. I will take the lash to you this time.”
Before he could strike her sister, Christina grabbed his arm. “I’ll do it,” she said. “Please, don’t hurt her. I’ll do it.”
He turned to her, and she let go her hold, relieved when he lowered his hand. “Nay, your sister is the better choice. Beatrix did not make a fool of herself and interfere with his fight.”
“But he stopped,” Christina blurted. She had to think of a way to persuade him. “And he was watching me during the feast. You must have seen him.”
Her father studied her for a moment longer. “You’re sure of this?”
She felt her cheeks warm at the exaggeration. He had watched her, though there had been no hint of interest in his hard gaze—in fact, when MacRuairi had been standing there he’d looked angry. “A girl knows when a man admires her.” She turned beet red at the lie, hoping her father attributed it to modesty. She thought she’d felt a connection, though with his refusal she couldn’t be sure about anything.
But Beatrix could never do what he asked, and Christina couldn’t bear the consequences if she didn’t. The thought of a whip across her sister’s frail back filled her with icy fear. Besides, she consoled herself, she would never have to actually go through with sneaking into his room. It seemed they would have to move forward with their desperate plan. They’d be on that boat to Iona after all, gone before she had to do her father’s foul bidding.
Her fantasies might have run away with her for a moment, but Tormod MacLeod’s refusal had cured her of any other options.
“Very well,” her father said, as if he was granting her a great concession, “you can do it.” He smiled, and she realized that this had been his intention all along. He’d never intended for Beatrix to go; it had always been her. She’d been played handily.
Beatrix made a sound as if she was going to object, but Christina stopped her with a look, silently telling her it would be all right. They would go to Iona. It would never come to this.
“Ready yourself,” her father said. “I will come for you a few hours after he’s retired.”
Her heart stopped.Tonight?The boat didn’t leave for two days! “B-but,” she stuttered, “I thought I might have a few days to prepare.”
Her father shook his head. “It must be tonight. There’s no time to waste. Nicolson is not coming and there is nothing to hold him here.”
She had no idea who Nicolson was, but it didn’t matter. “I can’t,” she said, trying to find a reason to delay. “Not tonight. I’m not ready.”
His eyes narrowed as if he suspected something, though she knew it was impossible. “I said tonight. There is nothing for you to do.” He pointed to her chemise. “What you have on should suffice. If you aren’t ready when I return, it will be your sister who pays for your defiance.”
“But what if he wakes up?” she asked desperately, her mind racing. Would he hurt her?
Her father shrugged. “Find a way to distract him.” He looked her up and down. “I’m sure you can think of something for a few minutes.”
The blood drained from her face, his meaning clear.
All she could do was watch the door close behind him in horror and despair. He’d won. Though it had never been much of a battle. Her father had known all along that she would do anything to protect her sister. Even something as dishonorable as tricking a man into marriage who didn’t want her.
She shuddered. Her father had no concern for his own honor, so why should he worry about an insignificant daughter’s?
“Oh, Chrissi,” Beatrix said, throwing herself into her arms. “What are we going to do?”
