“Your intentions?” Mary whispered. She hardly knew what to expect from him as she waited for an answer, but she was sure, in that instant, that it would change everything, everything that had happened when he was close to her. He seemed to undo whatever certainties she had built up about herself, and tear them down for good.
“Aye,” he replied, as though it should have been obvious. “My intentions to marry ye, lass.”
The whole room fell silent. Amelia drew in a sharp breath, and Mary felt her knees shaking beneath her, her breath stuttering in her throat. Could he really have meant that? Could he really… was this some twisted game, some way to force himself into the Aitken keep, just as Arran had warned her?
Or was it about her? About her and him? And them? She found herself shifting towards him slightly, something in her crying out for his touch, no matter how wrong it might have been.
“Marriage?” Arran exploded. “Dae you think fer a moment that we’ll allow a Fraser like you…”
“I’m no’ asking what you think of it,” he replied, cutting off Arran mid-flow. “But, since you seem to think I’ve defiled her already, you should be grateful that I’m ready to do as any man should and become her husband.”
“You can’t—she’s too young for that!” Amelia cut in. Mary bit down on her lip hard, containing the response she wanted to blurt out at her sister. She knew that Amelia was just trying tohelp her, just trying to look out for her, but she was far from too young to get married—at least, that’s what their own father had decided. He had chosen to marry her off, and the only way she was getting out of it…
Was if she accepted the offer that Kiernan had laid on the table for her. No matter what his reasons for it, no matter if she could trust him or not, she could not risk the possibility of going back to her father as an unwed woman, and having to face the horror of whatever husband he had chosen for her.
“I’ll marry you.”
Everyone in the room turned to look at her; all of them, except Kiernan, seemed surprised.
“You will do no such thing!” Amelia protested as she sprang to her feet and Arran put an arm around her protectively, pulling her close. It was clear that she knew well of Kiernan’s reputation. Arran had probably told her more than he had even shared with Mary, and perhaps it should have frightened the girl to see her own sister so angry at the prospect.
“Amelia, I’m a grown woman,” she argued. “I can do as I please. If this man wants to marry me, and I him, then who are you to stand in the way of it?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Kiernan added, his voice smooth and confident, his dark blue eyes sparkling with amusement. Arran fired an angry look in his direction, and Amelia hurried over to Mary, taking her by the elbow and steering her towards the door.
Mary allowed her sister to lead her out into the corridor, though she knew that whatever she had to say would not sway her from the decision she had already made. She could not tell Amelia about what their father had planned for her, or else she would stress herself into illness trying to make it right. No, this was the most sensible solution for everyone, and Mary intended to see it through.
As soon as they were out of earshot of the men, Amelia began to speak, the words tumbling from her mouth so fast it was as though she could hardly control them.
“Mary, please, think about what you’re agreeing to,” Amelia begged her. “You have to consider the kind of man Kiernan is—he’s dangerous. He’ll be no good for you as a husband.”
“I think I should be the one to make that choice,” Mary replied, her voice as stern and steady as she could keep it. In truth, the thought of being married to him sent a thrill of excitement through her body for she knew, if they were wed, that they would have to share a marital bed, that whatever had started in the stables would continue into something more… carnal. She pressed her thighs together beneath her dress, trying to stem that thought before it got the better of her, and returned her attention to her sister.
“You don’t understand, love,” Amelia pleaded, lifting her hand to her sister’s cheek and cupping it there. “You’re so young. You don’t know what makes a good husband, or…”
“And you did, when you married Arran?”
The words stopped Amelia in her tracks.
“What on earth do you mean by that?”
“There were those who called him a barbarian,” she reminded her. “Those who thought he was some wild man who would… well, I won’t repeat the stories of what I heard of him after he carried you off to be his bride.”
“But that’s Arran,” she protested. “He’s different. He’s…”
“He’s different because you gave him the chance to be different,” she replied. “And perhaps… perhaps Kiernan deserves that chance too. Don’t you think he does?”
Amelia’s eyes were clouded with doubt as she gazed at Mary. Mary’s heart was hammering in her chest as she wondered whether she had done enough to convince her sister that this was the way to go forward. She had no doubt that Arran woulddig his heels in and try to find some way to stop the union before it came to pass, but she was a grown woman. If she wanted to marry this man, then she would do it.
She would give herself to him, as she had in those dark dreams, for so long.
“Arran doesn’t trust him,” Amelia warned her. “And he knows this place well, he knows the people who live in this area, he knows the Frasers and what they are capable of…”
“He knows what his father was capable of,” she countered quickly. “He doesn’t know Kiernan. He’s made no effort to.”
“Because of everything he’s done.”
“And Arran hasn’t done much of that himself?”
