Page 58 of Claimed Highland Brides

* * *

Fiona walked into her uncle’s study, having left Daividh sleeping peacefully. “Alrigh’ then, tell me,” she said.

Her uncle looked up from his papers and paled, mouth pursing with fears. He nodded, however, and gestured toward the straight-backed wooden chair across from him. Fiona took a seat, folded her arms, and watched him expectantly.

“Yer faither was no just kin tae me. He was my bosom friend…” He lowered his eyes, his cheeks pinkening. “And he had everythin’ I could ne’er have.”

Fiona’s brow furrowed. “What d’ye mean?”

“He had a family that loved him.” Donnchadh looked up finally. “He had children. I cannae have any. I dinnae ken if ye ken tha’.”

Fiona shook her head, swallowing her sympathy.

“Weel, when Padraig Hunter got in my ear aboot it, I dinnae ken why but I listened. He fueled my barely acknowledged resentment toward Murdo. He played on my fears and my pride. He convinced me that Murdo had it coming. That he took advantage of my friendship and disregarded my pain. That he flaunted his family in front of me. I think, deep doon, I kenned it was all hooey but still, I listened. I let my resentments fester. And when Padraig told me to withdraw my men, I did it. I dinnae question it. I kenned he meant ill towards Murdo but…” Donnchadh shook his head, a lone tear falling down his cheek.

“So ye jus’ continued tae do as he told ye,” Fiona said coldly.

“Aye.”

“Why?”

Donnchadh shrugged. “He said we would share the gold. I could go to the New World and begin agin’. Find me a woman awready wi’ child and raise it as my own. A new start, he said. That there wasnae anything for me here except misery and disappointment.”

“The gold from the mine?”

“Aye.”

Fiona leaned forward, glaring at him. “If ye had asked him, my faither would ha’ gi’en ye the gold ye needed.”

Donnchadh shook his head. “No. He always said it was frae his lassies and he would allow no one tae touch it but them. He made sure of it. The documents were ironclad.”

Fiona turned away. “And so ye conspired to have me married to Hunter so ye could tak’ it all frae me?” She stared at her uncle’s lowered head. She could see the tears falling on the desk.

“I was a fool.”

She sighed, turning towards the door. “I shall gi’ ye the gold ye wanted sae badly, Uncle.”

The man looked up in shock.

“Aye, I will. And ye will tak’ it and gang tae the New World as ye wanted. I cannae trust ye at my back so I want ye gone.”

Donnchadh deflated completely but did not say a word. Fiona turned back, staring intently at him. “If’n ye come back here, there shallnae be any mercy. Do ye ken me?”

The laird did not lift his head. “Aye, Lady Fiona. I ken.”

“Guid. The lassies, Daividh, and I will be leaving in the morning for Braenaird Keep. Ye’re nae invited tae the wedding.”

With that, she walked out and slammed the door behind her.

* * *

The wedding was a small affair; just Fiona and her sisters as well as their staff and tenants. Daividh had Simon at his side as well as a small delegation of Campbells that had managed to make the journey to Braenaird in time. They held the ceremony in the gardens with the local abbot officiating. Once the Christian ceremony was done, he took Daividh’s sgian dubh and slashed open Daividh and Fiona’s palms. They clasped hands and he tied their hands together with a kerchief.

“Repeat after me,” the abbot said. “Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone. I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One. I give ye my Spirit, 'til our Life shall be Done.”

First Daividh and then Fiona repeated the words to him. He smiled in approval. “Ye will say the rest to each other the noo.”

He stepped back and they turned to face each other, eyes shining with conviction, saying the words together. “Ye cannae possess me for I belong to mysel’. But while we both wish it, I give ye that which is mine to give. Ye cannae command me, for I am a free person. But I shall serve ye in those ways ye require, and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand.”