“Nay,” Lady McLeish stated, a frown marring her features. “But I’m certain ’tis not anything ye should be concerned aboot. Yer da loves ye.” She then turned to her daughter, smoothing her hair over Ferra’s tightly-bound hair. “Ye are our youngest, and look at ye, all grown up.” Her mother pulled Ferra into a warm embrace, the scent of roses filling the air. “I dinnae wish tae think that ye will leave one day like yer sisters, but I know that day is coming.”
Ferra clung to her mother just a little longer, afraid that the day was rapidly approaching.
Finally, they released each other. “Go on now,” her mother said. “Dinnae keep him waiting.”
Ferra drew in a breath as she moved to her father’s study, one of her favorite places in the keep. Actually, it had been all her sisters’ favorite place, spending many a day curled up on the brightly woven rug before the fire and pretending they were grand ladies of the keep. Their father used to indulge them, giving them false documents to review so that they could make decisions regarding the clan.
It was one of her fondest memories.
Her father was seated behind the table in which he conducted his meetings, scratching on a parchment before him. “Da?” Ferra called out softly. “I’m here.”
He looked up and gave her a soft smile. “Come in, Ferra, and shut the door.”
She did as he asked and settled into one of the worn high-back chairs before him, tucking her feet under her. “Wot is it that ye want tae discuss, Da?”
He steepled his hands before him, regarding her with his solemn gaze. “I’ve made a decision on yer behalf, lass, regarding yer future.”
Ferra’s breath stuttered in her lungs. “Wot?” It was the worst possible thing she could have imagined he would say, but deep down, she knew it was coming.
“Aye,” her father said, his voice heavy. “I allowed yer sisters tae choose their husbands, and while they have chosen well, I fear ye will never choose one, Ferra.”
Ferra sat up straighter in the chair. “I—”
He waved his hand. “’Tis not up for debate, lass. I’ve signed the marriage contract.”
Ferra felt as if she couldn’t breathe. Marriage? Contract?
“I know this might not be what ye wish for,” her father continued, “but ’tis what I must do. I have tae make certain that ye are taken care of, lass.”
“I understand ’tis mah duty,” Ferra said after a moment, swallowing hard, “but I wish tae continue mah healer studies.”
Her father frowned. “I dinnae think that’s possible, lass. Ye are going tae McGregor land.”
I am nae staying here, with my home clan?Ferra found it difficult to breathe at the thought.
“Nay, Da,” she begged. “I cannae leave mah home.”
“Ye must,” he said, pushing the parchment to her. “I’ve already agreed, and if ye run, Ferra, I will make certain ye are brought back. I wilnae make the same mistake twice.”
He was referring to her eldest sister, Garia, and how she had run from her own betrothal. Her intended had been a bastard, and marrying her current husband was a far better one.
“Da,” she protested, the words dying on her tongue. What else could she say? “Dinnae do this.”
“’Tis done,” he answered, pointing to the bottom of the parchment. Ferra didn’t need to read it to know that it was his signature. He had given her up to someone she had never even met!
A sob escaped her, and Ferra hurried out of the room, ignoring the stares as she ran to her chamber. Only when she was behind the closed door did she allow her tears to fall.
Oh, how I wish mah sisters were here tae help me!
Ferra gasped as she hurried to the window, throwing open the latch and pushing the shutter out. She could climb out. She could escape this very evening. After all, Garia had done so from this room years before.
But as she looked down from the dizzying height, Ferra knew she couldn’t. Oh, she wanted to climb out of the window and run across the moors, to any future other than this one that she had been dealt!
Still, the moment she did so, her father would stop at nothing to find her, meaning he would have their warriors looking for her and not protecting the keep. Scotland and the clan borders had been unstable since the attack on McDougal land, waiting for the battle that was likely to happen. Countless times, she had watched their warriors go to battle, only to come back with a few less each time.
No, she couldn’t have them traipsing after her because she was running from the future that would eventually happen, regardless of whether or not she climbed out of the window.
Sighing, Ferra turned away from the window, looking at the room that had been hers all her life. Soon, she would have another home, another family, and nothing would be the same. What sort of husband was she about to have? She knew nothing about the McGregor clan, nothing about who their current laird was.
