Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Is that the castle?”
Marissa couldn’t hide the awe that had seeped into her voice, and when Arthur just gave her a quick nod, her mouth fell open in surprise.
“Ye said it was nothin’ but a house made of stone—that it was nothin’ special!” she exclaimed, giving him a smack on the arm. “Ye lied.”
“I didnae lie,” Arthur murmured with a shrug. “People live in a house. And it is where me kin and I live. It’s a house.”
It was so much more than just a house. The castle was massive. By far the largest she’d ever seen. And she had seen plenty of castles in her time living with Michael, as they’d attended various events hosted by other lairds.
But Castle Reid found a way to include both. As it grew nearer, Marissa couldn’t help but be impressed.
It’s more lovely than even Castle McEwan.
They passed under the gate, and she immediately spotted lush flower gardens filling a wide, expansive courtyard. Trees, lush and blooming, filled the space. And beyond the castle walls, the rolling hills of the Highlands could be seen in the distance.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
She had meant the words for herself only, but when the corner of Arthur’s mouth ticked up in satisfaction, she did not doubt that he had heard her.
“There’s a loch here as well,” he said, nodding toward a beautiful forest just beyond the western wall. “I’ll take ye there.”
She grinned.
Marissa loved to swim. Some of her favorite memories were from when she and her sisters would picnic on the banks of a loch, sharing stories and gossiping, reading and writing, painting and napping.
“When?” she asked.
Arthur had been correct when he’d said that their journey would take most of the day. The sun was already making its descent in the sky, and it would not be long before evening was upon them.
Marissa was also rather exhausted. Travel often found a way of leeching all of her energy. But for a little swim, she would find a way to muster it.
“Tomorrow,” Arthur answered.
She felt a flicker of disappointment, but she quickly stifled it.
Ye only need to wait for a day. Ye can wait that long.
Arthur spoke again, pulling her out of her thoughts. “It can be our first outing.”
Marissa turned her eyes to him, excitement bubbling in her chest. But before she could say anything, the doors to the castle were thrown open with a bang.
A dark-haired young woman, hair unbound and tumbling wildly around her shoulders, rushed forward. She spotted Arthur immediately, clapping and waving as she rushed toward the carriage.
Arthur shook his head, tugging on the reins so that the horses stopped.
“Prepare yerself,” he murmured to Marissa, before he turned and climbed down from the driver’s seat.
“Braither!” the young woman yelled, immediately throwing her arms around his shoulders and wrapping him in a tight hug. “Are ye all right? Did the ride go well? Also, I’m sorry to tell ye that the council was here early this mornin’.”
“I am well, everythin’ is fine,” Arthur said, his deep voice sending shivers through Marissa.
She watched the entire exchange from her seat, not wanting to climb down and disturb the reunion.
A dark-haired man who seemed a bit younger than Arthur but no less battle-hardened walked out of the castle. The moment his eyes landed on Arthur and the young woman, his face broke out into a grin.
“There ye are, Braither,” he said, his deep voice sounding almost exactly like Arthur’s.
“What’s this I hear about the council?” Arthur asked, stepping out of his sister’s embrace and stepping back to look at his siblings.
Are these his only siblings? What are their names? He only mentioned a braither and a sister. But mayhap there are more who dinnae live here. I should have asked him more about himself earlier.
“We tried to hold them off as long as we could,” the young woman said, just before his brother interjected.
“Ye ken how they are. They’re demandin’ to meet her tomorrow. They wouldnae hear otherwise.”
His voice was grim, but Arthur did not seem phased.
“I’ll handle the old men,” he responded gruffly.
“Speakin’ of yer bride,” his brother said, a note of intrigue in his voice. “Is that her? She doesnae look deranged enough to have concocted a love story with ye.”
Marissa snorted a laugh. “I can hear ye,” she called out, finally encouraging herself to climb down from the driver’s seat.
Her boots crunched on the ground as she hopped down, and she took a moment to smooth down her skirts before standing to her full height and meeting the gazes of Arthur’s siblings.
“And I am nae deranged.”
“Marissa.” Arthur smirked as he waved her forward. “Please come meet me siblings. This is Ayla, and the ugly one is Joseph.”
Ayla rushed forward, immediately pulling her into a friendly hug. “It’s so nice to meet ye,” she breathed. “Ye’ve gotten our braither out of quite the predicament.”
“He isnae the only one gettin’ somethin’ out of it.” Marissa chuckled, returning the woman’s hug a bit awkwardly. “I assure ye of that.”
Ayla gave her a final squeeze and then stepped back.
Joseph didn’t hug her, but he did give her a broad, cocky smile.
“He only calls me the ugly one to make himself feel better,” he said with a wink. “He kens he’s got a face like a horse’s arse.”
Despite herself, Marissa choked on a laugh. Especially when she glanced at Arthur and found him scowling.
All around her, servants were bustling about, unloading her trunks and chests from the wagon and carrying them into the castle. She looked around, still unable to comprehend that this was where she would be living now.
The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the courtyard in soft golden light.
It’s breathtaking.
“It’s gettin’ late.” Arthur’s voice broke through her reverie, drawing her attention back to the people standing near her. “We’re goin’ to head up to our rooms. Will ye have one of the servants send up supper?”
Ayla nodded, immediately bustling away to do as her brother had asked.
Arthur turned to Marissa. “I’ll give ye a brief tour on our way,” he said, motioning for her to follow him.
He immediately began walking, not looking back to check if she was behind him.
Waving goodbye to Joseph, Marissa trotted after him. His legs were so long that even his leisurely pace was hard for her to keep up with.
“Why are ye walkin’ so fast?” she protested, prompting him to slow down.
“I’m eager to wash up and lie down,” he admitted gruffly.
Marissa nodded.
They’d traveled a long way; it made sense that he was exhausted. Especially considering the skirmish with the bandits.
“A wash does sound heavenly right about now. Ye are right about that,” Marissa said.
Arthur nodded. “Stay here.”
She did as she was told as he walked down a corridor. Using the time she had, Marissa admired some of the paintings and decorations on the walls.
The finery inside the castle matched the grandeur she had seen on the outside. Gilded paintings, rich tapestries, gleaming suits of armor—they decorated every space they had passed.
At the end of the corridor was a portrait of a man. There was something about his face that looked familiar. Strong cheekbones, chiseled jaw, plump lips. But it was his eyes that gave him away. As grey as a stormcloud.
There was no doubt in her mind that he was Arthur’s father.
He looks cruel.
Marissa couldn’t tell if it had been a deliberate choice by the artist, or if it had truly been so obvious in his features that it couldn’t be helped. But, either way, the image made her recall how Arthur had claimed that his problems with the council were due to his father.
Based on this portrait alone, she had no problem believing he was a man who caused problems for others.
“The maids will draw ye a bath.” Arthur’s voice sounded from behind her, and she whirled around. “And while we’re bathin’, they’ll set up supper in our chambers.”
Marissa nodded, her heart racing as if she got caught doing something she shouldn’t have.
Dinnae be barmy. Ye were lookin’ at a painting, nothin’ more.
Arthur’s eyes flicked over her shoulder, flashing with recognition as he realized what she’d been studying. But he didn’t comment on it. Not as he nodded his head in the direction they’d been heading. She was grateful for his silence, as it gave her more time to take in her new home.
Finally, he stopped before a set of double doors.
“This leads to our rooms,” he said.
He’d said that a few times, ‘our chambers’ or ‘our rooms.’ But this entire time, Marissa had thought he was referring to them as separate rooms. Lumped together only by the fact that he was speaking about both her room and his room at the same time.
But as he pushed open the door and she stepped inside, she realized that she had made a mistake.
What he’d referred to as their chambers was a series of rooms sectioned off by two large oak doors.
The first room was a circular sitting room. Just like the rest of the castle, it was extravagantly furnished. A large fireplace occupied the wall to the right, and the far side was occupied by two large, curtained windows.
Between the windows sat a beautifully carved, round wooden table, two chairs on either side of it.
In the center of the room was a group of four overstuffed, high-back chairs around a low table. A chessboard sat on top of the table, the pieces arranged as if two people had been in the middle of a game mere moments ago.
“What do these doors lead to?” Marissa asked, pointing to them. “Me room and yers?”
“One is a separate bathing chamber,” he explained. “It’s where I’ll be washin’ up. The servants are preparing another one for ye to use, since we both need to wash at the same time. The other door leads to our bedchamber and dressing room.”
Marissa sputtered. “Our bedchamber? What do ye mean, our bedchamber?”
Arthur arched an eyebrow at her. “It’s the place where we’ll both be sleepin’.”
He said the words as if they should be obvious. And sure, in some sense they were. But that didn’t mean her brain didn’t feel as if it had to work overtime to understand them.
“Together?” she asked, her voice becoming shrill.
When Arthur nodded, she immediately began to protest.
“Nay,” she insisted. “We cannae share a bed. We arenae married yet—it would be improper. The things people would say! I willnae have people startin’ rumors that I behaved wantonly before we wed.”
Arthur shook his head. “Nay one will say a thing,” he assured her. “And I understand why ye’re worried. But that’s how things are done in me clan.”
“But that’s nae how things are done in mine!”
“Doesnae matter.”
Marissa opened her mouth to protest further, but he cut her off with a raised hand.
“I understand yer concerns,” he said gruffly. “But as I said, things are done differently in me clan. Men and women share rooms from the moment they get engaged. And if we dinnae, then the council willnae believe we are truly betrothed. Which would mean ye came all this way for naught.”
She took a step back, considering this.
Marissa had heard that some clans behaved this way, but it was rare. And, so far, Arthur had given her no reason not to believe or trust him fully.
Besides, what choice do I have? Even if I demand to have me own rooms, it’s nae like he has to actually give them to me.
With a sigh, Marissa nodded.
“Let me make meself clear, though,” she said, her voice coming out harsher than she had intended. “There will be nothin’ goin’ in that bed besides sleepin’. Do ye hear me?”
Arthur smirked. “Dinnae worry, lass. I have nay interest in women who dinnae want me to touch them. I will do nothin’ to ye until ye are beggin’ me for it. And trust me, soon enough, ye will be.”
Marissa’s mouth dropped open in surprise, causing his smirk to widen. He didn’t wait for her reply before nodding over his shoulder, back toward the doors they’d just walked through.
“Now, come this way, and I’ll show ye to the bathin’ chamber they’re preparin’ for ye.”