“I cannae,” she breathed, her vision blurring. “I cannae… I cannae marry him! I dinnae even ken him! He doesn’t ken anything about me, either. How can he think that I’ll be a good wife when?—”
“Ye’ll find a way to make it work,” Catriona insisted, her voice strained, her face drawn.
Isla rounded on her sister, angrier than she had intended to be.
"Did ye ken about this, too?” she demanded. “That I was to be married off?”
“Isla, ye must understand, we didn’t think this would happen,” she protested, holding her hands up and glancing to her father for support. “I thought I’d be the one to be married, but… Laird McFadden said that Laird McLeod wants ye. There’s nothing we can do about it.”
Heat raced up Isla’s spine, anger and fear and panic mixing together till there was little room for anything else. Her heart thrummed painfully inside her chest as she tried to manage the all-consuming rush of emotion that threatened to consume her.
No, she was not the kind of girl who could get married, not now, not ever. This man, what did he want from her? For her to play at the attentive and doting wife? To take care of hishousehold, attend to the chores, and do her embroidery without a word of complaint? Even the thought of it was enough to make her feel ill. What kind of creature would she have to turn herself into to be his wife? And was she capable of it at all?
She intended to fight her cause a little further—perhaps she could convince her father to see what a wild proposition this was, or maybe there was some way she could put Catriona in her stead, like she so clearly wanted to be. But, before she could so much as speak another word, footsteps sounded in the corridor outside, and she whipped her head around in shock.
And there he was. The man she was to marry, whether she wanted to or not.
Her head swam at the sight of him now, the context so entirely different from what it had been before. When she had first spotted him across the Great Hall, it had been with a flutter of excitement, attraction, even. But now, she saw little more than her jailer, a man who would take her from all she knew to force her into the role of his wife.
She clenched her hands into fists at her sides and narrowed her eyes at him. “What do ye want?”
He was flanked by a couple of what she presumed to be his men, though she did not look at either of them.
“We’re leaving for the McLeod Keep tomorrow,” he replied, not paying much attention to her words. “Gather anything ye need. The carriage will be waiting.”
“The feast isnae even over yet!” she protested, gesturing back down the hall. “We cannae leave so soon.”
“I came here to find a wife,” he replied, cutting her off. “And I’ve found one,” he said pointedly. “No more reason for me to stay here. Prepare yerself, we’ll leave as soon as we can.”
A wave of hopelessness coursed through Isla’s body as the enormity of the situation finally made itself known to her. She looked to Catriona, to her father, but neither offered her a wayout of this. No, she would have to go through with it. Offered up on a platter for a man who seemed to care not one jot for her happiness or desires, who was willing to snatch her from all she had known at the barest whim to be shackled in his Keep as his wife.
He extended a hand to her, taking her arm and pulling her towards him. Not asking her to come with him, but commanding. Claiming. Ensuring that she had no choice but to do as she was told. She snatched herself away from him and turned to her sister, her eyes welling up with painful tears.
“Catriona,” she murmured, and her sister quickly pulled her into a warm hug.
“It’s going to be alright, Isla,” she whispered to her. “Ye’ll… ye’ll find a way.”
Chapter Three
“Come,”he ordered her, and she cast a furious look over her shoulder at him.
Isla crossed her arms over her chest, staring at Camron as she stood next to the carriage. Above her, the sky was still dark and spattered with dusklight peeking out between the grayish clouds. The music from the feast the night before was still playing in her ears, a reminder of the jollity that she had felt when she had arrived.
And all the excitement she doubted she would ever feel again.
“I’m no’ getting in!”
Could he not see that she wanted to bid farewell to her sister? She might never get a chance to see her again after this, not if the McLeod Keep was so far from where they stood now. Could he not at least grant her the kindness of saying a true farewell to her?
But Catriona smiled at her from the entrance, tears glossing her eyes, and nodded for her to leave. Isla wanted to plead with her to ask her to stay a little longer, but she doubted it would have saved her. Whatever fate was waiting for her outside this Keep, she had no choice but to embrace it.
Even if she could hardly think of anything in the world worse than letting this entitled, demanding man get what he wanted.
Camron pushed a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh.
“We must leave now if we’re to make it to the Keep before the sun sets,” he told her firmly. “Ye have everything ye need, aye?”
“Apart from a betrothed who’ll treat me with an ounce of respect,” she muttered, and a flash of anger showed in his eyes.
