Page 46 of Twelfth Knight’s Bride

Aileana let Brighde guide her away, back through the hall. Embarrassment pulsed through her, and she straightened her back to grasp at confidence she didn’t feel. Everyone was staring at the display she’d made, flitting about the castle in such a state.

But the need to see James overpowered her, and she had to wait two, mayhap three, days for him to come home?

Home…

The declaration caught her off guard. Home. And yet she’d thought about what it would be like to call this beautiful wild place her home many a time, thought about how hard it would be to win the trust of his people only to vanish back to Urquhart at the end of Christmas. Her heart clenched at the thought of trading Urquhart for Tioram. But her heart also clenched at the thought of leaving Tioram for Urquhart. And if James was doing as Brighde said he was, then she wouldn’t need to worry about her people overly much if she stayed.

Yet after James’s silent treatment, the question now seemed, did he still want her to stay, as he’d professed more than once? Or had he given up on pursuing a marriage? Or worse yet, had he changed his mind?

…

31st of December

James blew into his hands as wind whipped through the glen. He watched the Grant guards scrambling across the outer walls, listened to the calls ringing down the line of men, and the portcullis chain lifting the massive gate. Smoke curled from the kitchen chimney, but no festive sounds or merrymaking met his ears. The cattle, huddled together as flurries swirled around them, were herded into the outer pastureland, and the carts—and horses—were parked upon what was normally a high road when the world wasn’t covered in white.

“Retreat, men!” James called, and his drovers and guardsmen, farther up the glen, turned their horses.

He certainly had no wish to speak to a Grant and have it revealed in front of his men that his marriage would leave nothing but egg on his face come his birthday.

“We’ll make camp for the night just south of Carn Eige and Loch Affric,” he said, indicating the mountain and lake west of Urquhart.

As his party trotted off, James remained, waiting to see who would emerge from the gate. It was dusk, and already he had to squint to determine the details of the men he watched. Wind ruffled the fur across his shoulders and caused his braids to tap against his neck. A horseman finally trotted across the drawbridge. The Laird Grant, Aileana’s older brother.

Good. There’d be no question that the laird saw him and knew who’d brought these things. Grant would know he’d returned what had been stolen. James pulled the reins around to join his men, urging his beast into a trot. The nerves that always pulsed through his blood when he readied for a skirmish skittered through him now. He hadn’t come to make war or retaliate, and yet talks with the Grants always felt confrontational.

“Ho there, MacDonald!” called Seamus.

He ignored him and kept climbing through the glen.

“James! I ken ye can hear me!”

Be damned. James pulled back the reins, frowning, and dragged his horse back around.

“What are ye doing?” Grant demanded, a hand cupped around his mouth as he cantered through the snow to catch up.

“What does it look like?” snapped James.

“I’ve yet to receive word from the Crown about my recompense,” Seamus replied as he rode closer, surveying the robust herd of shaggy cows, their brown-and-tan fur a splash of color on the landscape. “Unless the royal messenger came to ye instead and demanded ye return all that ye stole!”

“I’ve no’ received a messenger,” James replied, his jaw pumping, as he sensed he’d soon be admitting he was smitten with Seamus’s sister and wished only to please her enough that she might give their handfast a chance.

“Then why?” Seamus gestured to the bounty around him. “Why give back when ye’ve never cared a whit about fairness before.”

James clenched his teeth, and he quelled the ingrained reaction to lash out at Grant’s challenging jibe. As if Seamus cared about fairness himself. Instead, he readjusted his reins.

“I’ll see ye on Twelfth Night when I return yer sister.”

Seamus held his peace a moment, sizing him up with a calculated squint. “How fares my sister? Unmolested by yer greedy hands, I pray?”

Again, James swallowed a biting reply, grinding his teeth and clutching the reins so hard, surely his knuckles beneath his gauntlets were white. Aileana had been kept in the finest care, and he was certain she and Brighde were becoming close, too.

“She’s well. She keeps reminding me that this union will end soon, which should make ye proud.”

He’d keep their kisses to himself. Seamus would surely draw his sword if he found out James’s tongue had danced with Aileana’s and that he hadn’t wanted to stop.

Seamus scratched his head. “Then I admit, I’m baffled. Where has yer sudden burst of generosity come from? Unless…”

“Unless what?” James growled in Seamus’s silence.