Page 28 of A Laird and a Fugitive

Chapter 11

The deed was done. Caroline was a married woman. She may have remained a Gilmour by blood, but in every other respect she was a Knox. It left a bad taste in her mouth.

Ryan took her hand, and together they turned to face the crowd. He lifted her hand in the air and wore a triumphant smile, as though he was a warrior who had just won a great battle. In a way, he had.

“Dinnae look sae somber. This is nae a funeral,” Ryan mocked.

How cruel he was. Even so, her sisters’ wellbeing was dependent on his whims, and she did not wish to disappoint him. A smile flickered across her face, although if anyone looked closely, it would have been impossible to miss the despair glistening in her eyes. She couldn’t even look at her sisters, too afraid to see their reaction. She did not want to witness the pity and hopelessness that would surely have been directed towards her.

Ryan’s hand was huge, and it engulfed her palm entirely, as though she was destined to disappear in his grip. There was a smattering of applause and cheering as they walked out of the Great Hall. Ryan never let go of her hand. He pulled her close, and while he continued to smile outwardly, there was a biting growl to his words as he spoke to her.

“Dinnae think of escaping or running. If ye humiliate me, then it will nae end well for yer kin.”

As they left the Keep, Caroline turned her attention to the outside world. The expansive sky haunted her. She caught sight of a raven perched on a nearby wagon. It tilted its head, cawed, and then flew away, becoming nothing more than a speck in the distance. How she wished she could sprout wings and spirit herself elsewhere. But nothing was ever that simple.

Ryan led her to a wagon, where they would take the customary tour of the village. It was supposed to show the new bride her dominion, as well as introducing her to the inhabitants of the clan. It only seemed to be a taunt for Caroline, however, as she would never have any power here.

Ryan sat beside her and draped his arm around her. It irritated her how naturally he seemed to fall into the role of husband; how easy it was for him to treat her as though there were any affections between them.

The horses clopped away, dragging the wagon slowly around the territory. Caroline remained rigid, sitting forward a little to ensure that her back did not touch Ryan’s arm. He leaned out of the wagon and waved to his clansmen and the commoners alike.

What struck Caroline was how these people reacted. She expected them to live in fear, to have hard-worn, beleaguered lives as they were pressed hard by their demanding Laird. She assumed she would have seen the flicker of terror in their eyes, afraid to incur the wrath of their Laird.

But that wasn’t the case at all.

They all reacted warmly towards Ryan. They applauded him, smiled, and threw flowers at him. Some had even made wedding baskets at short notice and handed them to him. Caroline’s legs were soon submerged in an array of breads, cheeses, and wine.

Ryan thanked them all graciously, calling them by name. He knew each and every person, and this was a side to him, she had not expected to see. This was him as a Laird, not just as a captor, and it made her wish that he could show this kind of graciousness towards her.

Caroline was forced to smile again as people wished her well, and told her how lucky she was to have Ryan as a husband. Ryan turned towards her and smirked.

“Aye, ye are a fortunate one,” he said, the words slipping between his lips. They made her skin crawl.

The Knox lands were vast and beautiful. The forests were lush, the fields were dotted with cattle, sheep, and horses. They passed farms where turkeys waddled about and chickens flapped their wings. Pigs snorted and dogs barked, chasing after the wagon to amuse themselves. The sun rays fell across the land, bathing it in gentle light, which made the verdant shade of the grass and forest deeper and more vibrant. One could believe this was where life had originated; this was where the essence of the Highlands had been born. The fields rolled away to valleys in the distance, and the clouds became a mist.

Her home had never seemed farther away, and she felt a longing towards it—not to be back with her uncle, but to be back to the way life had been just mere days ago, when her father had been the Laird and everything had seemed well.

The wagon trundled around, and eventually the Keep came into view again, brooding and sobering. She felt like a woman being led to the gallows. The clansmen and servants had gathered outside the entrance, forming a guard. They clapped their hands together as Ryan jumped out of the wagon.

He held out his hand, helping Caroline climb out. He gripped her hand tightly once again as they ventured into the Keep. There were raucous cheers and grand hoorays. The only solemn faces were her own, and her sisters’. Nessa and Tara were huddled together near the door. Caroline flashed them a glance, but she could not exchange any words.

“Ye make a fine bride, Caroline. I’m sure this wedding will be celebrated far and wide. I will come for yer later,” he said, his exit abrupt.

He snapped his fingers and a guard came to heel, leading her through the winding levels of the Keep until she was taken to a room. Again, it had no window. However, the furnishings were finer, with a bigger, more comfortable bed, as well as a wolfskin rug on the ground. A fire crackled in the hearth, the warmth spreading through the room.

“What am I supposed tae dae?” Caroline asked the guard before he departed.

“Wait,” was the gruff reply.

The door slammed shut, and a key turned loudly in the lock. She heard the guard clear his throat and take position next to the door. Caroline groaned and fell back onto the bed. She had assumed that either she would be with her sisters or Ryan, not left alone. She checked the room for avenues of escape, but there were none. There was nothing she could use as a weapon, either. Ryan was too canny for that.

The only way out would have been to fling herself on the fire and allow the flames to free her soul from her body. However, no matter how despairing her situation seemed, she was not going to allow it to come to this. She couldn’t protect her sisters from beyond the grave, after all.

Some time passed and the doors opened. Caroline pushed herself into a sitting position, expecting to find Ryan there. Instead, it was a maid who carried a tray of food.

“Yer wedding feast, my lady,” she said, bowing her head and placing the tray on the bed.

The plate was filled with roasted vegetables, meat dripping with a honey glaze, and thick bread. There were also slices of fragrant cheese, and biscuits dusted with sugar. A wooden mug came filled with wine.