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Ruairi Calbraith was a most complicated man. Kenna had only known him for moments, and she wasn’t sure what to make of him. In many ways, he was like the men she had known on the ship: rough and swarthy, blunt, with little time for manners. But at the same time, she knew he was the son of a laird. He would have been brought up the same way she had, with all the rigors of manners and etiquette, and yet he had turned his back on all of that. She was struck by how handsome he was as well. His body was like rope, tight and taut, bristling with strength. There was fire behind his eyes, and his beard was a mix of red and gold. It was impossible to deny that there was a flicker of attraction in her heart. He was the very embodiment of everything she thought a man should be, and yet he didn’t react at all in the way she had expected him to upon learning that his father was ill.

She thought he would storm away and set sail immediately. She would have, even though her relationship with Laird Baird was strained. He was a mystery, and Kenna had always been intrigued by mysteries. Ruairi strode away, leading them up a sloping hill to the home of Manuel del Rio. Cal pulled Kenna back slightly and lowered his voice.

“I dinnae trust him,” Cal said. “No son of a noble should act like that. It’s impossible for me tae believe that he was once meant tae be a laird.”

“I agree. He is most uncommon,” Kenna said, arching an eyebrow. They increased their pace to catch up with him. While Kenna found it difficult to tear her gaze away from Ruairi, she was also troubled by what he had told her about Senor del Rio. She hoped that it was a misunderstanding and that the Senor had a son that was her actual husband, because she couldn’t believe that her father would condemn her to be married to a sickly old man. She thought that perhaps Ruairi was playing a trick on her, but he didn’t seem the type to be of good humor.

Her heart fluttered with nerves as they came to a large estate. Burly guards stood at the gates, and Ruairi spoke to them in fluent Spanish. The guards looked at her, grunted, and then let them pass. The estate was beautiful. It was spread wide, with rising mountains behind it. The brickwork was orange, unlike the bland stone that made up Highland castles. Lush trees were dotted around the area, and colorful flowers danced. Some of them she recognized, but others were strange to her, and it was a reminder that she was a stranger here.

The air was far warmer than it was in Scotland as well. Kenna didn’t understand how Ruairi could walk around with that thick beard. Sweat was already beginning to prickle on her skin, and she dabbed her forehead. Cal didn’t show any sign of discomfort, as to him that was a sign of weakness. Much like her father, Manuel del Rio was a man of fine tastes and collected beautiful and exotic art. His home was filled with examples of these, but her heart sank, because she had a feeling that she was going to be one more thing to add to his collection.

The shade inside was welcome, and she breathed a little easier without the warmth tingling on her skin. They were taken to a large chamber, where a man was laid in bed. Light sheets were draped over him, and sunlight poured into the room, although it did not reach the bed. Servants stood and wafted Senor del Rio with fans, keeping him cool. Kenna tentatively walked up to him and was horrified by what she saw. The man was far older than her father. His skin was wrinkled like a prune, and it was dusted with sweat. His lips were fat and pink, and his hands trembled. In many ways, he looked like a ghost already. He murmured something unintelligible, and then his head lolled to the side. His chest barely rose, and it seemed as though each breath could be his last.

Kenna swallowed a lump in her throat as she turned and strode out of the room, finding a quiet place where she could talk with Cal and Ruairi privately.

“This is nae acceptable,” she said, directed at Cal. “Did ye know this? Did ye know he’s ancient?!” she cried, pointing in the direction of the old man. From the look on Cal’s face, he did know, and she felt betrayed. Even when Ruairi had told her the man was old, she didn’t think he was that old. “I cannae believe Da would agree tae this. How could he expect me tae be happy with a man that old?” She shook her head vehemently. “Nay… I’m nae marrying him, Cal.” Cal opened his mouth to protest, but Kenna glared at him and raised a finger to silence him. Like a well-trained animal, he obeyed. “I dinnae care what ye say, but I am nae marrying that man. He’s far tae old, and far tae sick.”

Cal licked his lips and spoke with a deferential tone. “And if ye marry him, ye would inherit all of this,” Cal said, gesturing to the estate, “as well as Senor del Rio’s businesses. I’m certain yer da would have thought that would sway yer mind.”

Kenna narrowed her eyes at him. “I am nae like my da. I dinnae care about business. Did he know? Was this his plan all along? Tae sweeten the end of del Rio’s life with me sae that Da could then take control of his business through me?” Kenna shook her head. Were there no depths that her father would not sink to when it came to wealth? “When I get married, I want tae hae a family. That man cannae give me children, and it’s grounds tae back out of the arrangement. I’m sure Da haes a trick up his sleeve, but without a child, how am I supposed tae cement his legacy? We’re gaeing home, Cal. I’m postponing this wedding, and I hae no intention of marrying him even if he does recover,” she said, although, by the look of Senor del Rio, that was a very slim chance indeed.

“I would remind ye that the ship needs repairs. It might be wise tae stay here until the ship is ready. Perhaps then ye can hae a chance tae think through all the possibilities,” Cal said. Kenna huffed, and then her gaze turned to Ruairi. “We shall return home on Ruairi’s ship,” she declared.

“What?” Ruairi and Cal said in unison.

“Ye hae just received word that yer da is dying. I am assuming that ye will want tae return tae say goodbye. We shall be guests on yer ship. I can assure ye that we will help where required. Is this nae agreeable?” she asked.

“I… I hae nae decided if I am returning yet,” Ruairi admitted.

Kenna frowned. “Are ye heartless, Ruairi? I saw yer kin when she asked Da tae deliver a message tae ye. I didnae get the impression she expected ye tae stay away. I hae tae hae words with my da, and it would seem ye hae tae hae words with yers as well. Let us return taegether. Home is calling. There’s nothing for us here.” She took one spiteful look back towards the man that her father had deemed suitable for her to marry, and then walked out of the beautiful estate, expecting Ruairi and Cal to follow, which they did.