Taking advantage of the few spare minutes she might have, Taryn ducked behind the changing screen and pulled off her gown. Mud and leaves had gotten stuck to the hem. Her boots were just as messy. The sight of them both would be a sure giveaway for just where Taryn had been. Working quickly, she pulled on her rosy pink gown. It was her mother’s favorite, despite the fact that Taryn felt it washed out all color from her face.
As soon as she was dressed, Taryn moved to the vanity and picked up her brush. The first few pulls had her head jerking back with the tangled mess. She had only just started to get it sorted when Rowena burst into the room, not bothering to knock.
“Where have ye been, young lady?”
Her eyes were narrowed, taking in Taryn’s appearance, searching for anything that might be out of order.
“Father ordered me out, so that is what I did,” Taryn answered, intentionally twisting her father’s words to suit her.
“Ye ken verra well that is nae what he meant. When have ye ever been allowed out of the castle without an escort? Ye are the sole heir for Laird McGregor. Yer place is here or do ye forget that?”
Taryn kept silent. Her mother never let her forget just where her place was. Or what was expected of her. She doubted that was the response her mother was looking for.
Wrenching the brush out of Taryn’s hand, Rowena finished the job hastily. She paid no mind to Taryn’s winces or just how much hair was being pulled out, but still Taryn said nothing. By the time her golden strands were smoothed and laying in place, Rowena’s anger had dissipated, though her expression warned that Taryn was on tenuous ground.
“There,” Rowena proclaimed. “Now ye are ready.”
“Ready for what?” Taryn questioned nervously.
“Yer father has requested yer presence in the study. Come.”
Dutifully, Taryn walked after her mother’s brisk pace. There was no time for Taryn to admire her favorite portraits of their ancestors or take in the alarming number of weapons that were hanging from the walls in the Great Hall as they passed. Her eyes stayed on the ground, watching her matching pink slippers glide over the fresh rushes that covered the floor.
“Shoulders back, head straight. Try nae to embarrass me.”
Rowena’s cold words stung more than any heated rebuke might have. Still, Taryn did as she was told, fixing her posture into the painful angle her mother wanted her shoulders and back to be before entering the study.
Though it wasn’t truly his, Taryn had always thought of this room as her father’s. The worn green patterned rug that sat in front of the small fireplace, the nearly black leather chairs with the small marble table in between them, even the rows and rows of books turned with their spines inside the bookcase to protect their expensive gilded lettering all reminded Taryn of him. She had been inside this room only a handful of times but never before had it felt so full.
Her mother stood off to the side of the singular window, the moonlight giving her an imposing silhouette. Her father was behind the desk, his worn maps spread in front of him with small statues depicting each of the Highland clan lairds acrossthe page. She came up to the chairs that sat opposite of the desk and folded her hands.
“Father, I am so sorry to have left the castle grounds today. I thought when ye bade me outside, ye meant?—”
“Taryn!”
The sharpness in his voice had her fall immediately silent.
“How many times must I tell ye nae to speak until ye are spoken to? I did nae ask ye in here to discuss how ye spent the afternoon. Ye have been brought up to be a responsible young lady. I expect ye to behave as such. Anything less will have to be dealt with. Now, sit. Yer mother and I have news.”
Moving to the front of the chairs, Taryn sat and smoothed her skirts. She had no idea what to expect, but when her mother moved around to stand beside her father, Taryn could never have imagined the words that would come next.
“Ye are to be married. Within a fortnight.”
Taryn’s throat went dry. Her lungs burned with the effort it took to breathe.
“Och, dinnae look so ungrateful,” her mother reprimanded. “Yer father has found ye a great match. Tell her, Jonah.”
“As ye ken well, my brother, Laird McGregor, does nae have any bairns of his own. And since his wife died in childbirth all those years ago, he has refused to take a new one. That leaves ye, as my only daughter, the last of our family lineage. It is a great position of honor and respect. As such, Laird McGregor has asked a favor of ye, and I have agreed on yer behalf.”
“Married,” she whispered, her thoughts running wild.
“Aye, as I said,” her father agreed, pressing on as if she had not spoken at all. “We have been having some problems with our southern borders. There is an English Lord who has assured us these problems will cease, but as payment, he will accept only ye. Word of yer beauty has traveled to him, and he has decided hewants ye as his wife. Of course, for so little a price, I did nae dare argue.”
Stunned, Taryn could offer no reply.
“Did ye nae hear yer father?” Rowena pushed. “This is a great honor. Ye will have the glory of helping to save our clan from raids and attacks. He has promised to open the roads back to our clan as soon as ye are delivered to him so we can trade once more. Ye alone are guaranteeing the safety of our clan.”
“Who?” she croaked, already knowing the answer but not wanting to believe it.
