Page 2 of Bewitching her Highland Savior

Muriel drew in a sharp breath. What would she do? There was nothing for her to do but what her father ordered.

“I dinnae have any choice,” she pointed out. “So, I suppose I must go to Lewis and marry this Owen Macleod.”

“Can ye nae speak to yer faither?” Caitriona asked. “Ye said that ye and yer faither are on good terms. Maybe he’ll listen to ye if ye tell him that ye dinnae wish to marry.”

“We are, but ye dinnae ken him,” Muriel said; her tone tinged with venom. Her father had done many bad things in his life. He had hurt her mother; taking her from her home by force to be his mistress and then casting her aside the moment he had no use for her anymore. Perhaps she should have expected it, but he had never directly hurt her before. “There is nae way to change his mind once it is made up.”

“Sounds like someone else that I ken,” Caitriona said with a teasing smile. Muriel knew that she was right. She had grown up to be just like her father – which infuriated her mother more often than she cared to admit.

Not that Muriel could blame her. She had been his captive, hence had no reason to love him.

“Unfortunately, there’s one thing that I didn’t get from him.”

“And what’s that?” Caitriona asked.

“I’m nae a man.”

With a sigh, Caitriona nodded in agreement. Muriel lay back on the bed; staring at the ceiling – unshed tears stinging her eyes. Frustration bubbled up inside her, turning her stomach into a knot. She could have avoided this fate if she had been a man. Perhaps her father would listen to her more instead of always doing what he thought was best for her without consulting her.

Nae, he’s nae doin’ this because he thinks it’s best for me. He’s doin’ it because it’s best for him.

That was the sad truth, the one Muriel couldn't bear to admit or accept. If her father was acting out of the goodness of his heart or concern for her, she would understand. But she was nothing more than payment to some man who would help her father expand his influence and increase his power. She was as good as cattle.

“Perhaps it willnae be so bad,” Caitriona said; unable to not sound apprehensive. Muriel wasn't the only young woman who had heard of tales of loveless marriages. They were all aware of how those husbands treated their wives, as if they were worthless to them.

“And perhaps it will be,” Muriel said as she pulled herself back up, slouching next to Caitriona. “But what is the point in thinkin’ about it? Nothin’ will change no matter how miserable I become, so I may as well nae think about it until I must.”

Caitriona nodded once again and, for a few moments, remained silent. Then she said, “How will you get to Lewis? He cannae expect ye to go all alone.”

“He has sent a man to fetch me,” Muriel said; her mind returned to the name she had read in her father’s letter. Liam Russell McAlpine. Muriel had never heard of him, despite her father's mention of his reputation. She could picture him as an older man with salt and pepper hair, scars on his face, and possibly missing a finger or two. Those were the types of men who had a reputation.

“And ye must go soon?”

“As soon as he arrives, I suppose.”

Muriel had no notion of when that would be. She didn't know whether she had weeks or hours ahead of her, and that scared her more than anything else. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Caitriona and her other friends yet, though she doubted she would ever be. She didn't want to leave now that she wouldn't be returning to Barra. Before she had received the letter, she had a visit with her mother to look forward to. Now, she doubted her father would even bring her to Lewis for her wedding.

“How about this,” Caitriona said. “I’ll gather the lasses tonight, and I’ll see if I can get a bottle or two of wine from Mrs. MacGillivray’s room.”

Muriel’s eyes widened in disbelief. It was shocking to hear Caitriona even mention stealing anything from the head of their school, let alone being the perpetrator. Muriel was usually the one who started trouble and Caitriona was usually the one who tried to stop her.

“Caitriona! I cannae believe ye would even suggest that!” she said. “I thought ye were more proper than this.”

“It may verra weel be the last night we spend together, lass,” Caitriona said. “And if I am to do somethin’ rebellious before I leave this place, then this is the time to do it. I can still blame ye for it, and everyone would believe me.”

Muriel knew Caitriona was joking, but she didn’t tell her that she would take the blame if they were caught. After all, she was used to being punished.

“Fine,” she said. “But dinnae get caught. Mrs. MacGillivray isna verra forgivin’.”

The room was completely plunged in darkness by the time Caitriona left. Muriel lit a few candles, just enough to illuminate the room lightly, before sitting back down on the bed and taking in her surroundings.

She would never see any of it again. She tried to capture the dark blue, damask print wallpaper deep into her memory, the old, creaky hardwood floor, and the small bed with the lumpy mattress that she had somehow come to find comfortable. She wondered what her new home would be like, if it would be as warm and inviting as her little room; she doubted it.

Muriel had no idea how much time she had spent deep in thought until she heard a knock on her door. Before she could respond, a crowd of girls blasted into her room, half of them giggling and the other half sternly shushing the rest. Caitriona was there, too, with the bottles of wine she had promised.

“Has Mrs. MacGillivray gone to sleep?” Muriel asked in a hushed tone as she urged everyone inside the room; closing the door firmly behind them.

“Och, aye,” Caitriona said; getting comfortable on Muriel’s bed. “They all have. But we must still be quiet. Ye ken how weel she can hear.”

It was true. Mrs. MacGillivray didn't miss a sound, and even when she was sleeping, the girls had to tiptoe around the building to avoid being caught. For a long time, everyone seemed to remember that, at least until the first bottle was gone and then the second one was opened. Caitriona was the only one who reminded the other girls to be quiet, sneaking out of the room every now and then to make sure that all the teachers were still sleeping before slipping back inside.

“I dinnae want ye to leave,” Caitriona told Muriel once the other girls had retired to their rooms. Muriel could see the frosty blue of the morning through the window as they lay side by side on the floor..

“I dinnae want to leave either,” she admitted. “Maybe I willnae have to. Maybe Owen Macleod will fall in love with another lass and tell me faither he doesna want me anymore. Or maybe Liam McAlpine will perish on his way to fetch me.”

Of course, even then, Muriel would have to go back to Barra. She knew that well. But it was nice to dream that she could stay in Edinburgh a little longer.

“Maybe we should hide ye!” Caitriona suggested. “So then, when this Liam McAlpine comes, he willnae be able to find ye!”

In her drunken state, Muriel considered that a brilliant idea. She hadn't entertained the possibility of him showing up weeks later, or her father dispatching a search party to look for her.

“Let’s do it,” Muriel said.

In a flurry of excitement, the two girls emptied as much as they could from the chest that stood by Muriel's bed — but there wasn't nearly enough space for her to fit. Even so, she jumped inside, contorting her body enough to fit in the tiny available space, grunting and cursing under her breath the entire time. She was so focused on her task, so determined to fit in, that she didn't notice the door open.