Chapter Two
Gregory had an uncomfortable feeling about Clan Sinclair even before he and his men were told to wait in the great hall for Lady Sinclair. No offer was made for drink or food always given to a traveler.
He’d expected a different sort of Clan Sinclair. True, he hadn’t spent much time with Robert over the years, but the Robert he’d known would never allow the sloppiness of the warriors training on the lists that they’d seen on their way in.
It was the middle of the day and men were slouching around the great hall drinking ale. Maids who appeared to be cleaning up the area from the noon meal seemed more interested in the men who kept waving ale glasses in the air for a refill.
Even as he watched, a lass sat grinning on a warrior’s lap, his hand busy down her bodice. Gregory shook his head. What the hell had happened to his friend’s clan?
At the sound of someone approaching him, he turned to spot a woman.
Her body was the kind that gave a man visions of nights spent in bed with low candlelight and a bottle of wine.
Her delicious curves filled out her bodice well, and her small waist brought attention to hips that a man could hold onto.
Those curves, along with her full lips, made her very appealing.
She had a sprinkling of freckles over her creamy cheeks, green eyes, with long lashes, and golden-red hair held back from her face with two braids fastened at the back of her head.
He hoped with all his heart that this was Robert’s widow.
For as much as he didn’t want to marry, he would have no problem bedding this beauty.
She stopped in front of him, tilting her head in question. “Ye wish to see me?”
“Aye.” All of a sudden, he found it hard to even speak with her deep green eyes boring a hole into him. His mouth had dried up and he knew he had a silly grin on his face.
“What is it ye want from me, sir?”
Ach lass, if I told ye what I wanted from ye, I would get a slap in the face, or a dirk in my neck.
Gregory cleared his throat. “Are ye Robert Sinclair’s widow?”
She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. “Aye, I am Lady Megan Sinclair.”
Still unable to form words, he fumbled in the pocket of his trews and withdrew the note that had been penned by Robert and sent to Gregory from someone in the clan. Finding his voice, he said, “Yer husband and I drew this up when we were young warriors training together at Clan Sutherland.”
Before she even looked at the words her husband had written, her eyes lit up. “Ye are Gregory Sinclair?”
He nodded.
Her face became very animated. “He spoke of ye often. He always wanted us to take a trip to Castle Leod for a visit.”
Noticing the interest from others in the great hall, he took Lady Sinclair by her elbow and walked her away from questioning eyes. “Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”
If she was surprised by his words, she didn’t show it. She nodded and said, “Upstairs is my sitting room. We can go there.”
He nodded and motioned to his men to wait for him.
She chatted all the way up the stairs and down the corridor to her sitting room. She kept glancing over her shoulder at him, the words spilling from her mouth until he was concerned she would lose her balance and tumble down the stairs.
Once they were settled in the small room with two chairs, neither of which look as though they would hold him, he took a deep breath. “Please read the note I gave you.”
She startled, almost as if she had forgotten the parchment in her hand. She opened it and her eyes moved back and forth over the words. Megan sucked in a deep breath. She placed her hand on her chest and looked at him with tears in her eyes. “What does this mean?”
He nodded at the paper. “Just what it says. As young warriors Robert and I saw a mon cut down in battle who left a young wife and two bairns. We decided then and there that we would ne’er allow that to happen to either one of us.”
She licked her lips and whispered, “Meaning…what?”
He stood and ran his fingers through his hair. “Meaning, Lady Sinclair, I intend to fulfill our pledge.”
When she continued to stare at him, he huffed, “I am here at Sinclair Castle Girnigoe to marry ye.”
*
Megan could only stare at the man. He was here at Sinclair Castle Girnigoe to marry her?
To marry her?
She was in the middle of an argument with Anthony about not wanting to marry the old Gunn laird and this one showed up with a note that, he told her, said that as Robert’s widow, she had to marry him.
At least he was young, handsome, and had all his teeth. But she didn’t want another husband. At least not now. She would like some freedom. And she was tired of being told what she had to do and who she had to marry. Robert was a husband who she hadn’t chosen either.
Now this man cleared his throat and stood before her, his giant hands on his hips. “Is there a problem, lass? Is there another mon ye are hoping to marry?”
She slowly shook her head. “Nay. I doona wish to marry anyone. My husband is in his grave less than one moon. I am trying to explain that to the laird, who wants to ship me off to another husband of his choosing right away.”
Gregory nodded. “Aye, I agree with ye there lass. ’Tis too soon for another husband. But my pledge is to keep ye safe, so ye will return with me to Castle Leod and we can marry when yer feelings have settled.”
She sucked in such a huge breath at his arrogance that she began to cough. He looked at her with alarm. She pointed to the table near her small desk where a cup of ale sat.
He brought it to her and she drank it down, her throat easing.
The man walked in circles. “I doona think I did this the right way.”
“I hate to discourage ye further, but there is no right way.” Her voice still sounded scratchy.
He nodded at the message in her hand. “Do ye recognize yer husband’s handwriting?”
She shrugged. “I guess. I doona think I saw his handwriting more than a couple of times.”
“Can I ask ye this, lass. Do ye want to marry this mon yer uncle has chosen for ye?”
She shook her head vigorously. “Nay! I doona want to marry any mon that someone picked for me.” Her voice became a whisper, “Especially that one.”
Gregory tried to hide his grin but was not successful, which appeared to anger her further. “Ye are like all men. Ye think women have no brains and can’t make decisions for themselves. I ken who I want to marry and who I doona want to marry. I doona need another mon to tell me.”
“Then who is it ye want to marry, lass? As long as I see ye settled with a good mon, I will feel as though I have fulfilled my obligation to Robert.”
She stamped her foot. “That is what I mean. Ye will decide who will suit for my husband.” She poked herself in the chest. “That decision will be mine.”
The door to the sitting room opened and a man entered. “Who is this mon who sent for ye? And why are ye meeting him in yer sitting room with no chaperone?”
Megan closed her eyes and sighed. “This is Gregory Mackenize. He has come to marry me.” She stated it that way only to get a reaction from Anthony.
Which she did.
“Nay!” He waved his hand around. He turned toward Gregory, his hands fisted at his side. “What right do ye have to claim my niece?”
He nodded to the note in Megan’s hand. “An agreement between myself and Robert Sinclair.”
“Laird Robert Sinclair is dead. I am the new laird and all agreements must be approved by me.” Anthony pointed his finger at the parchment Megan clutched.
“How do I ken this is real? It could be something ye made up when ye heard about my nephew’s death.
What is in it for ye? Have ye always been sniffing around Megan’s skirts? ”
When Gregory made a move to go after Anthony, two of the laird’s men pulled their swords and stepped forward, placing their swords on his chest.
Anthony waved them back. “Even if it is real, ’tis no’ a formal betrothal. She is going to marry Laird Gunn.”
Gregory looked between her and Anthony. “I doona think the lass agrees with that.”
Anthony pounded his fist on a nearby table. “She has no choice. I made the agreement with The Gunn. We leave tomorrow first light to bring her to Clyth Castle where she will honor the betrothal I made.” He pointed his finger at Gregory. “Ye will leave now.”
Megan felt her first flash of panic. As much as she had no interest in marrying again, if she didn’t go with Gregory, she would be swept away by her uncle and married to The Gunn before the sun set the next day.
She looked frantically at Gregory Mackenzie with hope. The lesser of two evils.