Chapter Five
Lillith stormed into her bedchamber and slammed the door.
Then she stalked across the room and dropped onto her bed.
Rory Matheson was insufferable, arrogant, and maddening!
She lay back and stared up at the canopy, her chest heaving with indignation.
The bed dipped suddenly as Masie leapt up beside her and put her enormous, fluffy, white paws on either side of Lillith’s shoulders.
The beast thrust her snout into Lillith’s face and began lapping enthusiastically at her cheeks.
“Masie, cease!” Lillith sputtered, pushing the hound’s muzzle away even as a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. “Ye’re making me wet, ye great daft beast.” Despite her protest, she buried her fingers in Masie’s thick fur, finding comfort in the familiar warmth and weight of her companion.
Masie settled beside her and cocked her head to one side as if listening intently while Lillith stroked her ears.
“Did ye see him, Masie?” Lillith muttered, unwillingly recalling Rory’s handsome yet infuriating face.
“Standing there all high and mighty after I crashed into him, looking at me as if I were mud on his boots.” She dropped her voice to a mockingly deep tone and pulled her face into what she imagined was a fair approximation of his scowl.
“Ye pulled me down! Ye’re a reckless woman! ”
Masie whuffed softly, her dark eyes fixed on Lillith’s face.
“Aye, exactly!” Lillith agreed, as if the dog had offered a particularly astute observation.
“The nerve of him! He’s the one who was in my way, and yet somehow ’tis all my fault.
” She sat up, crossing her legs beneath her and taking Masie’s face between her palms. “Ye’ll stay loyal to yer mistress, will ye nae, Masie?
Even if everyone else thinks I’m naught but a wild hellion? ”
The dog’s tail thumped against the bedcovers in what Lillith chose to interpret as fervent agreement.
“Good girl.” Lillith sighed, flopping back among the pillows.
“Do ye ken,” she said, turning to look at her hound who stared at her as if she understood every word Lillith said, “he met me for three breaths before deciding he would wed Lenora and nae me?” Lillith sniffed, and Masie licked her palm.
“Ye do nae need to comfort me. I do nae wish to wed any man—especially an arrogant one like him. But…it does chafe me a wee bit to think someone views my personality as unpleasant or bothersome even.” She looked once more to the ceiling, feeling a tightness in her chest that was most certainly indignation and not injured feelings.
She refused that notion completely. She was slightly irritated, that’s all.
She clenched the bedcovers, bunching the fine fabric into her fists. Masie nudged her cold nose under Lillith’s hand, letting out a slight whine.
Lillith glanced down at her white-knuckled grip on the furs and slowly released them, smoothing the wrinkles with a shaking hand.
“Mayhap my feelings might be hurt just a wee bit,” she admitted in a whisper, as if afraid the stone walls might overhear this confession of weakness.
“Och! I’m being ridiculous. Imagine having to look at Rory Matheson’s scowling face as I break my fast every morning for the rest of my life!
Even if it is attached to shoulders broad enough to—” She cut herself off, horrified at the direction her thoughts had taken.
Before she could chastise herself further, the door to her chamber burst open without so much as a knock. Lillith sat up so quickly that Masie nearly tumbled off the bed, recovering with an indignant woof.
Eve swept into the room, followed closely by Aunt Elena, Aunt Sebille, Grandmama Marion, and finally, Lenora, whose face was pale and drawn. Each woman wore an expression of fierce determination that made Lillith immediately wary.
“What is it?” she asked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “Has something else happened?”
Eve shook her head. “No, we’ve come to discuss strategy to save Lenora from this forced marriage,” she announced, her green eyes glinting with purpose. “This arrangement with the Matheson heir will not proceed as the men have planned.”
Before Lillith could speak and share her idea, Lenora stepped forward, tears welling in her eyes. “I—I kinnae wed Rory Matheson,” she whispered, then louder wailed, “I will nae wed him!”
“We do not want ye to have to do so,” their grandmama assured Lenora.
“Ye do nae understand!” Lenora cried out. “I love Caleb!”
“The stablemaster’s son?” Lillith blurted, shocked.
Lenora nodded. “I’ve loved him since we were but fourteen summers.”
Lillith felt her jaw slacken in surprise. Lenora had been harboring a secret love for four years? How had she not known? A pang of hurt lanced through her chest, but a fierce protectiveness quickly replaced it as she saw the naked vulnerability in Lenora’s eyes.
Aunt Elena moved to stand beside Lenora and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Is Caleb the lad with the limp?”
“Aye,” Lenora replied, swiping at her tears. “His right leg is shorter than his left, but he’s kind and gentle and clever.”
“Does he return yer affection?” Aunt Sebille interrupted.
“He does,” Lenora confirmed, a small smile playing at her lips despite her tears. “He wishes to wed me. He has for over a year now. But he—” Her voice faltered.
“He what, child?” Grandmama Marion asked, stepping closer to the circle that was forming around Lenora.
“He insists he will nae ask Da for my hand until he can prove himself worthy by passing the warrior test,” Lenora explained, her shoulders slumping. “He says a laird’s daughter deserves a husband who can protect her, nae one who would be a burden.”
“And the test?” Lillith found herself asking, though she already suspected the answer.
“He’s failed it three times already,” Lenora whispered, fresh tears welling.
“Each time he trains harder, pushes himself further, but his leg… it will nae allow him to complete the sword work as quickly as the other men. I’ve assured him I do nae care and that I would wed him tomorrow, but he’s a stubborn Highlander. ”
The women all nodded in understanding as Lillith moved to her sister’s side, taking her place in the circle of women that had formed naturally around Lenora. “Ye should have told me,” she murmured, unable to keep the hurt from her voice.
“I feared ye would think me silly,” Lenora admitted, reaching for Lillith’s hand. “Ye’re always so strong, so certain that ye do nae ever want to wed.”
“That does nae mean I would mock yer heart,” Lillith replied, squeezing her sister’s fingers. They felt cold with fear in her grasp.
The women gathered closer still, and Lillith was struck by the force they made, standing united against the plans of men.
“This makes matters even more desperate,” Grandmama Marion said. “We cannot allow Lenora to be forced into a marriage when her heart belongs to another.”
“Especially when the other twin is available and unwed,” Aunt Sebille added, her calculating gaze now fixed on Lillith.
Lillith’s stomach dropped to the ground. “I do nae wish to wed!” she protested. “I want to be a warrior like Aunt Bridgette!”
Grandmama Marion waved a dismissive hand. “Wanting to be a warrior is not a reason not to wed. You know very well your aunt is wed! Women warriors can wed and have bairns,” her grandmama said.
“And ye do nae have another suitor waiting in the wings,” Aunt Elena pointed out, though her tone was gentle.
“So because I do nae have another suitor waiting in the wings I should be made to wed a man I do nae love!” She knew her point had struck the women in her family, as their faces fell and silence followed.
Lenora clutched at Lillith’s hand more desperately now, her fingers digging into Lillith’s palm as she pleaded with her eyes. The silent message was clear: Help me, sister. Save me from this fate.
Lillith felt torn between her own desire to remain unwed and her love for her twin.
The thought of Lenora being forced to marry Rory Matheson while pining for Caleb made Lillith’s chest ache.
Yet the alternative—that she herself might be pushed toward marriage with the arrogant Rory—made that familiar knot of dread, that had always surfaced when she tried to imagine marriage, tighten in her gut.
“Lillith is right, of course,” her grandmama finally said. “Let us not lose sight in our desperation and fear of the fact that neither of the lasses should be forced to wed a man they do not wish to.”
“I agree,” said Aunt Elena, “but Da is right. We will pay a heavy price if one of the lasses does nae wed the Matheson heir. We are putting many at risk to protect two. Nae to mention the risk to da. He gave his word to the king, and ye ken well that the king will be furious if da breaks his word.”
When Lillith’s grandmama nodded, Lillith burst out, “I think there is another way!”
“Such as?” her grandmama asked.
“We can devise a plan that does nae involve either of us wedding Rory Matheson.”
“Do ye have an idea?” Lenora asked.
“Aye! We must ensure he does nae pick either of us,” Lillith declared. The plan had initially been for just Lenora, but it was now clear that it needed to be for both of them.
Lenora’s grip on her hand loosened slightly, hope dawning in her eyes. “Do ye think such a thing is possible?”
“With the five of us working together?” Aunt Elena said with a fierce grin. “Anything is possible.”
Grandmama Marion nodded her agreement. “I’m certain we can come up with a way to ensure Rory Matheson wants neither of you.”
Lillith watched as her family gathered around the small table beneath the window. They looked like warriors planning a siege, which, she supposed, they were—a siege against the plans of men who thought they could dictate their futures without consequence.
“Lillith, come sit,” her grandmama said.
Lillith shook her head as she paced back and forth. “I think better standing.”