Page 24 of Claimed Highland Brides

“Gang ahead my dear.”

“Can ye chuse me another bridegroom? I dinnae want tae marry that laird. He gi’es me the cold grue,” she said miserably.

His eyes softened as he put his hands on her arms, squeezing gently. “Fiona...” His voice was soft and gentle, but regretful nonetheless. “’Tis already done. Mr. Hunter has already put up a substantial amount o’ money into this marriage. We cannae just back oot wi’out valid reason.”

“I dinnae want tae marry him!” Tears fell down her face as she looked up at him pleadingly. “Isnae that a valid reason?”

The laird laughed. “Nae. Ye ken verra weel that it isnae, Fiona. This isnae just a marriage, lassie. ’Tis a political alliance, a bond that goes beyond just the twa o’ ye. D’ye understand?”

Fiona looked down at her hands. “Aye. But…”

“There arenae any more buts, Fiona.” He surveyed her sadly.

“I cannae leave my sisters alone, Uncle Donnchadh. They need me. I’m all they have. Gi’ me a few more years, frae them tae be older, frae me tae be older. I’m barely oot o’ th’ schoolroom!”

Donnchadh smiled ruefully. “Ye ken yer nae too young Fiona. Why, my niece was marrit at four and ten and she’s a proud mother o’ three the noo. Ye just wait. He’ll have ye pregnant in nae time and ye’ll forget aboot all these objections.”

Fiona felt the bile rise up in her throat.

“I willnae be marrit if’n my sisters arenae here. Send frae them and when they arrive, we can set a wedding date.”

The laird nodded. “Verra weel. I shall send a carriage and a few escorts frae them richt awa’.”

Fiona nodded once. “Thank ‘e Uncle.”

“Ye’re welcome Niece.”

She turned around and walked off, shoulders slumped in defeat.

* * *

“There is something strange aboot this engagement. Wha’ is th’ rush?” Daividh downed his ale as he complained to his friend Simon, a Campbell from up north.

“Why d’ye even care? ’Tis none o’ yer business.”

Daividh snorted. “Perhaps it isnae but…” He shook his head, contemplating his tankard. “I cannae help but feel consairned.”

Simon leaned forward, his elbows on the table, grinning at Daividh. “Consairn eh? I havenae seen ye sae...consairned frae anyone since I’ve kenned ye.”

Daividh glared at him and took another swig of his drink. “Alrigh’ then, I may have a wee bit o’ a...uh, tendresse frae the lassie.”

Simon threw back his head and laughed. “Ye’re nae this much o’ a fool, Campbell. Ye ken better than this.”

Daividh nodded sadly. “Aye, I do. Yet, here I am.” He spread his hands out helplessly.

Simon sobered at once, his brow furrowing. “What will ye do then? Will ye elope? Ye could run off wi’ her.”

Daividh laughed scornfully. “What d’ye think this is? A fable frae the bairns?”

Simon sighed. “Dinnae take yer ire oot on me, Campbell. I was just tryin’ tae help.”

Daividh closed his eyes and deflated. “Forgive me. I am nae in the best temper.”

“Aye. Falling in love and finding oot yer lassie is slated tae marry someone else cannae be easy.”

“Nae, it isnae. Can we cease talking aboot this now? It isnae helping.”

“Aye, alright.”