Page 22 of Claimed Highland Brides

“Oh, now ye want tae ken? How was yer meal? Did ye enjoy it?”

“Aye, I was enjoying it until ye came storming in here like a grampus. What has happened?”

Fiona’s eyes narrowed as she remembered that those were the exact words that Daividh used when he saw her...only to betray her with his indifference.

“Nothing has happened. I have met my groom.”

Julieta came to sit on the bed and took Fiona’s hand in hers. “And was it that awfu’? Would ye like me to pack our bags? We could escape into the night like a pair of fugitives and gang tae hame.”

Fiona laughed although her heart warmed at Julieta’s solicitude. “If only. But ’tis the first place they would look frae me, no? And I cannae leave the lassies tae their own devices.”

Julieta just looked at her with soft concerned eyes. “What next then?”

“Och, I shall girn mysel’ tae sleep, and then it’ll be tomorrow. Perhaps something will come tae me then.”

“Or ye could write to the lassies and tell them of yer journey. That might be better than greeting and it willnae give ye a headache in the morning.”

Despite herself, Fiona laughed. “Ye’re right. Hand me some paper and let me regale them wi’ my adventures. Ùna will be sae jealous.”

“Aye, and Jamesina will frown wi’ disapproval and the twins will jump aboot and say they want tae gang next.”

Fiona sat back on the bed, feeling grateful for Julieta. She bent down and began to write as colorfully as she could manage.

* * *

Daividh tried to resist his own urges for as long as he could but eventually, he had to concede defeat. If there was something he could do to help Fiona, he was ready to do it. Even if it meant risking his employment once more, by going to plead with her uncle on her behalf. He shot to his feet, once he realized what he was going to do, and strode out of the chapel with purpose. Before he went to see the laird, he left the castle for his own quarters in the barracks. These were simply a cluster of crofters’ cottages designated for the men who followed the laird in battle. He entered his cottage and poured himself some water to bathe.

Taking off his dusty travel clothes, he wiped himself down painstakingly, thankful for his clean-shaven chin. He did not think his hands were steady enough to wield a razor. Once clean, he combed his long brown hair back and tied it in a queue before donning a clean tunic and stockings.

He stared at his claymore, wondering if he should wear it, but then decided against it. He had his sgian-dubh in its sheath beneath his stockings; it would have to do.

He emerged from his cottage, attracting a few raised eyebrows as he walked to the castle.

“Beinn Cruachau Campbell, where are ye off tae?” a man coming from the direction of the field asked, his clothes filthy from planting.

Daividh smiled at the use of his clan’s warcry. There were a number of Campbells in the barracks although not from Daividh’s direct family. “I’m off tae visit the king.”

The other man grinned. “Och, ye look like ye’re ready fer yer own execution. D’ye need a witness?”

Daividh snorted. “’Tis kind of ye tae offer but I dinnae think I’ll need one this time.”

“Ach, perhaps next time then aye?” The man clapped him on the shoulder as he guffawed, and he was still laughing as he went off to his own cottage. Daividh watched him with a small smile for a minute before it dropped off his face and he again resumed his journey.

I may well need that witness soon.

He reached the laird’s study and knocked confidently on the door.

“Enter!” a voice said from the other side of the door. He turned the knob and stuck his head in the gap.

“Sir, may I speak t’ye?”

The laird leaned back in his seat, his eyes cold and speculative. “If’n ye’ve come tae apologize there’s nae need. Next time, just heed me.”

Daividh nodded his agreement even as he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. “Och, that is indeed guid tae ken, sir, but it isnae what I wanted tae speak tae ye aboot.”

The closed look on the laird’s face intensified further. “Is that sae?”

“Aye.” Daividh looked him in the eye and took a deep breath. “I wanted tae speak on something I observed as I journeyed with yer niece, sir.”

The laird’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward on his elbows. “And what was that, Campbell?”

“She complained...generally...tae me and her maid, aboot how much she dinnae wish tae marry an auld man. A girl like her, barely oot o’ th’ schoolroom...och. I think they wanted tae stop sae many times tae drag their feet a bit. Is there nae a way frae ye tae chuse a man more hale frae her?”

The other man stared at Daividh as if he sought to see into his soul. “And what other man would ye like me tae chuse? Yersel’ perhaps?”

Daividh cut his eyes away and then looked back at the laird. “Nae my liege. I cannae keep her in the style tae which she is accustomed tae even if she did want me. But she is heartbroken ower this match and I thought that ye cared frae her as yer niece and ye might like tae ken what she’s thinking.”

“She has expressed nae such sentiments tae me. Why would I believe ye?”

Daividh shrugged. “Believe me, or dinnae believe me. I have nae reason to tell a lie.”

The laird sighed, leaning back in his chair, looking defeated. His mouth turned down and he shook his head. “In any case, it doesnae matter now. The deed is done. She will marry Laird Hunter afore the week is oot.”

Daividh tensed, resisting the urge to fly across the table and grab the laird by his collar and shake him until he surrendered. Instead, he took a deep breath. “Can ye not...turn doon his offer?”

The laird sighed again, looking away. “The deed is already done,” he repeated, his shoulders slumping in what looked very much like defeat.