Hours after herconversation at the loch with Alex, Keely flatly refused to eat a bite or to allow Leah to help her into the beautiful gown meant for her wedding. “I’d rather starve to death and have birds peck away at my innards than marry a man I doona know.”
The maid sighed. “If I could help ye escape, I would, Lady Keely. But Laird Alex has doubled the guard at yer door and around the keep. I believe he intends to make sure ye fulfill yer duty this time.”
“This time…” she mocked, not meaning to slight Leah. “I am sorry. Tis nothing against ye.”
“I understand.”
“I am tired of men deciding where I can go and what I must do.” She sat on the edge of the bed, gazing across the chamber to the hearth. “Men are more destructive than fire, the source of all the misery in the world.”
“Do ye really think so?” Leah crawled behind her with a comb, sat down, and began to smooth the tangles out of her curls. The lass had gentle hands.
“Is there any other creature on God’s earth that can so easily crush ye?”
“I-I doona know, milady. I’ve never considered such things.”
“Think of the oppressed and suffering.”
“Is that what ye consider yerself?”
A fair question. Keely scooted out of reach, hugging her center, contemplating an honest answer. When had life in the Highlands been easy for anyone? At least she was the daughter of a prosperous laird and clan. She’d never gone a day without food or shelter. There were always clean, warm clothes and shoes for her to choose from. Servants did her bidding. Guards protected her. Nay, she’d misspoken out of anger.
“Forgive me, Leah. I am fortunate. War is the fault of men. And the innocents who get killed or displaced as a result of their violence are the true victims of oppression and suffering.”
Leah nodded. “Aye. Laird John always welcomed those without a home—cared for the sick and helpless—fed and clothed orphans—and never mistreated his servants. Some men are kind and gentle. I hope Laird Alex will be the same.”
Keely swallowed the less-than-favorable opinion she had of Alexander MacKay. Why destroy the lass’ hope? In all fairness, Keely couldna say what kind of laird Alex would be; she could only judge him based on the way he’d treated her. But there were reasons for his actions. Good reasons. Things she must accept responsibility for. And John, too. They’d both failed Alex in the worst way imaginable. Did it come as any surprise that he despised her? Tears burned her eyes.
“Lady Keely?” Leah squeezed her shoulder. “I willna let anyone harm ye.”
Keely sniffled. “Thank, ye. Ye’re the only friend I have here.”
“In time,” the maid offered, “the other women will acknowledge how good ye truly are.”
“Let us talk of something else. No one has told me what man I am expected to marry.”
Leah’s demeanor changed immediately.
“Leah? Do ye know something?”
The maid shook her head.
“Please.”
“I am sworn to secrecy, milady,” she said.
It wouldna be fair to press the girl. “Whatcanye tell me?”
“The great hall has been transformed into a lovely sight,” Leah said. “Wreaths of heather, candles, and bouquets of flowers for every lass. Laird Alex called for the silver to be cleaned and used for the feast table. The kitchens are bustling with twice the number of servants—Cook feels like a king, I think. He’s never felt so important. There’s boar and venison, even a lamb for the high table. The sweetest wine and best ale have been brought up from the cellar. All of the captains and their families have been invited, and there will be meat for all of the tenants and servants. Such generosity has not been seen here in a long time, Lady Keely.”
Leah had described a joyous occasion, not a forced marriage between two strangers. Not her wedding feast. It couldna be. Why would Alex go to such lengths to please her? Then she remembered—Jamie was the likely groom. All of the fuss was over him. He deserved a memorable wedding. It dinna matter who the bride was.
The idea of spending her life with Jamie dinna disappoint her as much as it should. He was young and strong, well-thought of, handsome, a member of the council, and Alex’s closest kinsman. The association with Alex did bother her. Every day for the rest of her life she’d have to see Alex—eat at his table, speak with him, listen to Jamie’s stories about him, eventually meet the woman he’d fall in love with and marry, and children would follow… many, she guessed. Alex’s virility and passion had scarred Keely for life.
Any man she loved after would fall short of her expectations. If she could even love again. She wandered across the room to the hearth. She studied the beautiful tapestry crafted by Alex’s mother. It captured the beauty and savagery of the MacKay holdings in every masterful stitch, down to the tartan-clad warriors guarding the north face of the keep. Keely closed her eyes and tried to imagine where she fit in, if her future could be intertwined with the scene depicted in the tapestry.
Could she be happy here? Accept being married to the laird’s heir until Alex produced his own son? Would she finally love again? Accept a second chance at life and grace? Because until now, she had been living in the shadows, hidden away at Dunrobin Castle, a secret even her sire hadn’t known. Aye, he knew she was safe, but her location had been withheld. In the five years she’d been away, only three missives had been sent to her father. There’d never been a reply, only a verbal acknowledgement that he understood she was alive.
In this moment, Alex was offering her an olive branch, the right to walk free again, to be a wife, perhaps a mother, and to live as a MacKay. She looked back at Leah who sat patiently on the bed still.
