“Nay,” Mary objected, setting aside the bread she’d just picked up and tugging on Catherine’s hand. “’Tis meant to be yer special day!”
“’Twill be even more special to me if we share it,” Catherine avowed as she sank into her seat.
“And ’twill keep ye safe from anything Da might do to keep ye at Rose,” Annie added. “Or to keep ye from Cameron.” She grinned and winked at him.
Cameron grinned back. “It sounds like the perfect solution to me.”
Annie got to her feet. “Then that is what we will do. Come, Mary, let’s get ye and Cameron settled in yer own chamber, then we have preparations to make.”
Heart in her throat, Mary stood and took Cameron’s hand. “Ye are sure?”
Cameron nodded, his gaze steady on hers. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, Mary, my love. Let’s get married in the kirk.”
Mary left Cameron with Iain,Kenneth and other Brodie men she didn’t know. He would be content for a while to sit by the hearth in the great hall, drink ale or whisky, and tell the sort of tales men told each other. Some true, some only exaggerated, some totally false. None of that mattered. Only the camaraderie they shared meant anything real and lasting.
She sat on Annie’s bed, Catherine sprawled beside her. Annie took the window seat, looked around her chamber and announced, “This is exactly the way we used to gather in yer chamber at Rose, Mary. Only Catherine was much younger.”
“We all were,” Mary replied, tousling her youngest sister’s hair. “But Cat hasn’t changed her habits.”
“None of us has,” Catherine objected, “Annie is still over there where she can hear herself think—or so she says. Ye used to sit on the bed because it was yers. And I lay beside ye for the comfort. Ye and Annie may remember ourmaman, but I dinna. Ye are as close to a mother as I ever had.”
“I’m sorry for that,” Mary told her. “I did the best I could.”
“Ye have naught to be sorry for,” Annie interrupted. “Ye raised us and ye helped us find our happiness, even in the face of Da’s disapproval. We owe ye a lot, Mary. And we mean to help ye find yer own happiness any way we can.”
“Like getting ye married in the kirk, so Da canna gainsay ye,” Catherine put in. “I canna wait!”
Mary gave her an indulgent smile. The youngest sister,Catherine had matured, but despite what she’d been through with their father and Kenneth, her soon-to-be husband, her childish exuberance had not deserted her entirely. It still made itself known now and again.
Mary turned her gaze to Annie. If Mary was eldest and most responsible, Annie was next in age and in sense of responsibility. She also had excellent organizational skills, and seemed to be the perfect foil for her husband’s more artistic and creative leanings. Annie kept Iain grounded.
And what did she do for Cameron? Were they too much alike, both duty-bound to their respective clans? Or had they managed to turn the urge to each other—not that Cameron was an obligation to her, or she to him, but that they were as strongly bound to each other. “Ye both seem so well matched, perfect complements to the men ye chose. I once thought I was, too, but Dougal didn’t have the patience to wait for me, or the stomach to take on Da.” She told them about Dougal's disastrous recent visit, and how he left.
“Cameron is no’ Dougal. He is a good man,” Catherine announced, sitting up. “Ye canna do better.”
“I can tell ye he impressed Iain, and ye ken how seldom anyone manages to do that,” Annie revealed.
“He knew trouble was coming and warned me to get out of St. Andrews,” Catherine added. “Then when Kenneth and I left, he joined up with us, though he had no obligation to travel with us or protect me. Ye must give him credit for keeping us safe.”
“I do. I have,” Mary replied. “’Tis no’ that there’s anything wrong with him. My doubts have more to do with me. I worry about our father and how he’ll fare if I’m gone from Rose. How the clan will fare without me…”
“They will manage,” Annie assured her. “Ye have trained them well.”
“Ye ken Cameron has some interesting friends, aye?” Catherine interjected. “Like the man who gave us horses to cross the Highland mountains. Ye will never be bored around Cameron.”
“But will he tire of me?” Mary shook her head. “I told him I thought he confused gratitude for his care with feelings for me. He says no’, but I sometimes wonder…”
“Nay, Mary,” Catherine said and put an arm around her. “I spent a lot of time with Cam, talking to him, watching him…”
“Ye mean ye took yer gaze from Kenneth?” Annie needled.
“Once in a while,” Catherine replied with a smirk. “Cameron is a very good looking man, ye ken. And kind. There’s a lot more to Cameron Sutherland under his charming surface. Anyway, I ken him well enough to be certain about the way he looks at ye, Mary. He loves ye. ’Twas no’ gratitude driving him to return to ye from Sutherland, to stay with ye, and to stand up to Da alongside ye. The man is in love. With ye.”
“I never thought it would happen again—though I suppose this is really the first time.”
“Well, it has,” Annie assured her. “First or second does no’ matter. I see the same thing Catherine sees. Ye’d best accept the strong, handsome, powerful man who loves ye. Enjoy it. Ye love him, too, or ye would if ye’d let yerself. Stop worrying about Rose and Da. Let Cameron take ye off to Sutherland. Time away from Rose will do ye good, and might force Da to see what a poor bargain he made with Lady Grant in wedding her lamb-headed daughter.”
Mary didn’t share her sister’s optimism. “None of that will matter if Seona gives him a son.”
