Taking another swig from his bottle, he used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. His hair was a mess, and his shirt was hanging halfway over the top of his breeches. Looking around the neat little graveyard of the town chapel, he tried to clear his mind, going over the events of the previous night.
In the space of an hour, he’d gone from being annoyed by the woman who grated on his nerves more than any other to becoming her betrothed.
All because I couldnae stand to see her cry?
He glared at his father’s headstone in the fading light of the afternoon sun. The day had been spent remising over all the mistakes he’d made in the past, one of them being the marriage he was about to enter.
He’d felt like a complete wretch on the ride back to his own castle after the ball, thinking of the vow he’d already broken. He’d sworn to his father that he’d never take a wife or sire an heir, yet here he was on the brink of marriage, all because he’d felt a little heroic in a single moment of weakness.
“I may have taken a wife,” he said bitterly as if his father were standing in front of him. “But I willnae sire an heir, ye can be assured of that.” His fingers tightened over the neck of the bottle, nearly cracking the glass, as he recalled the first time his father had ever called him a disappointment and sent him away.
He’d been a late bloomer, only learning to walk once he had reached the age of two. On top of that, his speech had been delayed, resulting in a stutter that had only disappeared when he had been well into his teens. Even then, it was only after attending a school in London that he’d eventually become able to control his tongue.
“Yer nae son of mine,” Malcolm said coolly as Daniel played with his wooden sword, missing the dummy every time he was told to lunge.
“I… I’m trying… m-me best, Faither.” Daniel slunk back at the disappointed look in his father’s eyes. Ever since he could remember, his only desire had been to make his father proud, something that he’d failed at miserably by simply existing as he was.
“I should have sent ye away to an orphanage the minute yer maither spewed ye from her womb. The healer told me that ye were too small to survive. I should have listened an’ sent ye away back then.” Malcolm shook his head and turned to leave, walking in the direction of the castle, and leaving Daniel in the middle of a snowy yard.
“Wait…, Fai…fai…faither!” Daniel called out in desperation, attempting to follow his father, falling in the snow as his tiny foot hooked on a branch hidden beneath the thick blanket of ice. “I’ll… do better!”
He wailed as he watched his father leave. Turning his head down, he cried softly to himself, his hot tears creating tiny holes in the white canvas beneath his hands.
It was then that Daniel had begun to realize that toughening up was his only hope of surviving in life.
“I’ll do better than ye…” he said out loud as he shook off the memory of the way his father had treated him as a child. “I’ll do better than ye did in every aspect,” he vowed again and turned away, leaving the graveyard with its neat little rows of stones behind.
There was plenty to be done before he fetched his bride in five days and brought her back to his castle. His vow to never sire an heir wouldn’t be too hard to achieve, Melissa Young was the last woman on earth he would ever want to lie with.
He’d prepare a place for her in the castle to call her own while he kept to his wing. How hard could it be to just ignore the woman for the rest of their lives? Shrugging off the fact that he’d been attracted to her when she’d come down the stairs in her beaded blue dress, he picked up the pace and headed straight back to his castle. Darragh was awaiting his letter to set things in motion for the upcoming feast.
“Do you think you like these flowers?” Avery cocked her head to the side as she examined the selection of flowers that one of the maids had brought up and laid out.
Melissa sighed as she lay on her bed with her feet dangling off the edge. “Whichever you think is best,” she replied dismissively as she turned the page in her novel, wishing that her life was as romantic as the heroine in the story she was reading.
Stories always seemed to revolve around love, yet here she was, betrothed to the man that she could barely stand.
“You have to give at least some input,” Avery said tiredly as she turned to look at her sister. “I know I said that I’d do as much as I could, but you have to at least do something from your side. You’ve spent the past two days moping around the castle. There are only three days left.”
“Oh, all right,” Melissa answered irritably, shutting her book, and pushing herself up from the bed. “What do I need to do?” she asked with her hands on her hips as she stopped at her sister’s side.
“I would like you to take a look at some of these flowers, we can use them in your bouquet and place some more on the tables,” Avery said hopefully. “I tried to find roses, but they aren’t as abundant here in Scotland as they are back home. I’m afraid we’ll have to make do with what we have here.” She swept her arm over the table.
The table was flooded with bunches of heather, mountain avens, purple and red thistles flowers, and a pretty little white flower that Melissa had never seen before.
“Does it really matter what flowers we use?” Melissa turned toward her sister in irritation. “It’s not like I’m looking forward to anything in the marriage.”
Avery bit on her lower lip, looking at her sister with a look of sympathy in her eyes. “Has Mama spoken to you about what will happen once you are married?” she asked in a cautious tone, dancing around the subject as best as she could.
“Yes,” Melissa replied confidently. “I will live in the castle with Daniel until I’m old and grey, having nothing to look forward to besides my eventual death.”
“No…” Avery shook her head. “Never mind, Mama never really told me what to expect either. Come.” Gently gripping her sister’s arm, she led her over to the bed, taking a seat beside her. “There are certain things that are expected of a husband and a wife on the night they are wed,” she began, her hands fidgeting in her lap.
Melissa wondered where Avery was going with the conversation. She’d always been curious about certain aspects of the passion described in her novels, the interactions between a husband and a wife seemed vastly different from what she had glimpsed in her limited knowledge. Her mother had always restricted reading those books, stating that some things were better learned in time rather than read.
“You know that you will have to kiss Daniel when you get married?” Avery coughed, shifting a little away from her sister.
“Yes, that I do know.” A light blush spread over Melissa’s cheeks. She’d spent so much time moping around and wishing that her circumstances would change that she’d completely forgotten about the finer details of her pending nuptials.
