Page 20 of Falling for His Cousin’s Betrothed

“My uncle? Well, what is he doing here?” Laila wasn’t usually one for petty drama, but she didn’t like the man, and although she couldn’t put her finger on the exact reason why she would have preferred that he not be in her presence.

“Laird Fairfax has his own reasons for arriving at the grounds today. He will stay with us for a few days. He and I have to talk about some important issues. ” Lyall spoke as she looked at him. “Perhaps at a later time, he can reveal his thoughts.” She didn’t want to sound uninformed, but the truth was that she didn’t know exactly what he wanted, either. As was customary when a laird made his rounds, Lyall had let him, yet there was still a nagging piece of her conscience that told her a sinister element enshrouded his arrival.

“I am tired, Lyall. I want to take a rest. If you choose to reveal what this man is doing here, so be it. Otherwise, I shall retire for a short spell and meet with you sometime later.” Laila walked through the foyer, leaving Alastair behind her at the door. She cared not, at that particular moment, for what anyone thought of her, and she cared not what Alastair decided to do in her absence, either. She was truly exhausted and equally sad.

Robert had been excused from Alastair’s castle earlier after a wicked feud with his cousin, and Laila had begged the two to stop their quarrel. To Laila’s dismay, the elaborate breakfast they had all been promised the evening before never happened. Not so much as a morsel of food had entered anyone’s mouth because of all the arguing. Now, on the other side of the entire fiasco, she wanted only to be alone, far away from the suffocating realm of a forced marriage and even further away from the wicked accusations of an unpredictable stepmother.

“I’ve never been able to get a handle on that one.” Lyall stood, hands on her hips, shaking her head as Laila stormed away. Alastair, who hadn’t walked much past the doorway since their arrival, now backed up and sighed. He only wanted to marry the woman he’d so quickly and perhaps, unluckily, fallen in love with, regardless of the marriage being arranged or not. Why was it so hard for her to simply accept his hand? He stood in silence for a moment, then walked back out of the room and into the courtyard. Lyall followed behind him, wondering how her day had suddenly become so chaotic. Just as she was about to offer her apologies for Laila’s behavior, the sound of a man walking towards their direction, caught their attention.

“Looks to be Laird Fairfax.” Lyall had been expecting him, although not as early as he’d decided to arrive. She walked with Alastair out front and waited for him to dismount from his black stallion. “I’m coming in a while, Laird. This is my stepdaughter, Laila. .” Lyall smiled and nodded..

“Lyall,” he said in acknowledgment. “And this is?” He looked at Alastair, then took a sip of water from his canteen.

“This is Alastair, Laila’s soon-to-be husband.” Lyall wanted all to appear unruffled. She craved a reputation as an untainted lady, as a respected royal woman, and yet, between the death of her husband, the disappearance of her stepdaughter, and now the quarreling among her family, she wondered if her wishes would continue being carried far away into the heights of aspiration that seemed to constantly succeed at eluding her.

“I see.” Laird Fairfax looked at him, then pet his horse on the back. “I’ve come to discuss my lairdship, Lyall.” Laird Fairfax was forthright and stern. Lyall, having been momentarily caught up in her own head, realized it was easier to deal with other people’s dreams rather than her own.

“Yes. We can speak to these matters as soon as I see Alastair off.” Lyall adjusted her bun then lifted up the edges of her gown so as not to muck it up in the spring that trickled along the circumference of the castle. Alastair, his head hanging low, didn’t appear the picture of royalty at that moment, and Lyall felt for him. She, too, had her own melancholy airs about her, but she opted to focus on the promise of tomorrow to keep her from falling into the hole of self-pity.

“I think I just need a moment to collect myself. I know she is tired, and it’s been a long journey.” Alastair ran a hand through his hair and babbled for a few moments.

“It will all be okay, Alastair. Laila is young. She doesn’t know what she wants or what she needs.” Lyall placed a hand on his shoulder, then smiled. “I think you’ll find a way to work it all out. Besides,” she added, looking up at the sky that had finally cleared away for blue, “she might not want to marry you now, but she runs the risk of not being here at all if she chooses otherwise.”

Alastair nodded, then frowned. What exactly does she mean by all that? he wondered. An eagle flew above the castle and landed in one of the tall Scotch pines, its wings spread open like a crisp, white sheet.

“I bid you good day, Lyall.” Alastair, his heart heavy with concern, stepped away from the castle entrance and trudged toward his horse that was posted up at one of the bridge markers. He drew down the reins, walked his stallion a few feet away from the cobblestone, then mounted and sat in the saddle, his head forward and his eyes set on the valley beyond. He gave his horse a soft kick in the side and trotted off, away from the castle.

* * *

Meanwhile, Laila sat in her bedchamber with a head full of worry and confusion. How can I marry a man I do not love? she thought as she paced the room, her long hair flowing down the back of her linen nightgown. She closed her eyes and held back tears. It didn’t seem fair. She had lost her father, her mother, and now her suitor, Robert. She thought about their adventure, about the haunted wood they’d traveled together, about the somber loss of Quest, the weather they’d endured—and, of course, the night they’d spent together at the lodge. How she longed to kiss him once more, to hold his hand and to lie across his firm, barreled chest.

“Laila?”

As if she couldn’t become more upset, now Lyall was at her door. What did the woman want from her? Wasn’t it enough that she was secluded in her bedroom? Why did she feel the urge to constantly hound her as if she were a child?

“What is it, Lyall?” Laila shook her head, annoyed. “I am trying to sleep,” she added, tying the waist strings of her nightgown. Although a lie, she did think that sleep would eventually be appealing to her. For now, she had far too many worries to contend with and a slightly worsening headache. She walked to the door and placed her hand on the knob. No. She wouldn’t open it. Why should she? After all, Lyall needed to learn how to respect boundaries. Maybe she’d sneak away once more, but this time for good. Laila tossed her head high, feeling strong in her conviction.

“Laila, I must speak to you about Alastair. You are slated for marriage, and it would behoove you, for your own safety, to promptly accept his offer.”

“Behoove me? What on Earth is that supposed to mean, Lyall? Have you placed some sort of Scottish curse against me?” Laila leaned into the door. “You know, I don’t believe a word you say.”

“Suit yourself. But the man downstairs has other plans, and I think it would do you some good to follow my suggestions.”

Laila gulped, then slowly opened the door. “So, I was right, after all. That creepy fellow downstairs is some sort of thief, a beggar, or worse, a kidnapper?” Laila’s eyes were wide.

Lyall shook her head. “He is not any of those, to my knowledge, anyway. Laird Fairfax is the cousin of your father and he is here to take away the Lairdship from me. When he heard that you have run away, he found the chance to come here and discuss this possibility. You should come downstairs and give your greeting to him, after all, he’s your uncle.”

“I wish to do nothing of the sort, and like I already told you, Lyall, I’m tired.”

“Suit yourself, then.” Lyall walked briskly away from the door. “Stubborn girl,” she muttered, looking down. “Ah!” she was surprised to find Laird Fairfax waiting at the end of the hall. He placed his hands in front of his robe tie and sighed.

“My patience runs out Lyall. It is time we have this talk.” He gave her his toothy grin and turned away.

Lyall was confused. “You are right my Laird. I’m coming downstairs.”

He gave a look at Laila who was looking at him from inside her chamber and he left. Lyall said nothing. He then floated, just as he’d come, silently down the hall. Lyall drew in a deep breath, then pressed her face firmly against Laila’s door.

“I must tell you one last time, Laila. Laird Fairfax has left some cautionary news on your behalf, and I warn you that if you don’t marry Alastair, then he is to become your guardian. You are to live with him, here in the castle. ”

Laila, still not wanting to absorb the information, plopped on her bed and folded her hands across her chest. She closed her eyes and imagined a field of wild poppies, blowing casually in the wind. Maybe, if she went along with the suggestion, she could somehow free herself later. Who knew what Laird Fairfax, the smarmy man with the wild white hair, thought of her or dreamt up on her behalf? She didn’t care to know. Instead, she stood up, walked to the door, and placed her hand on the knob. She turned it abruptly to the right and eyed Lyall, who almost fell backward when the door was opened.

“Tell Alastair I accept.” She turned right back around to her room, closed the door, and flung her weary body on the bed.