Chapter 5
The castle was just as confusing today as it was when Margaret arrived the day prior. It was so much bigger than the manor in which she grew up, and she believed that she wouldn’t map out the place, no matter how much exploring she did.
Currently, she was attempting to find her way to the gardens she’d spotted the day before. While she could see them from nearly every corridor she traversed, she’d yet to find a door that led to them.
I suppose if I used the front door, I could walk around the castle. There must be a faster way, though.
“Still walkin’ around, I see,” Cali said, stepping out from a passageway that Margaret hadn’t seen. “Enjoyin’ Castle McGhee?”
“I am,” Margaret replied, trying to temper the rapid beating of her heart at being caught by surprise. “Though I can’t seem to find my bearings in the place.”
“Aye, that’s by design,” Cali said, her eyes sweeping around the corridor. “Though ye likely came to that conclusion on yer own. Ye seem like a smart lass.”
Something about the statement sent a shiver down Margaret’s spine.
Logically, she knew that the layout was a safety feature, to keep intruders busy while those who couldn’t fight escaped.
In fact, she’d even thought that the castle had been designed this way purposely.
But could not the winding halls be used to keep someone captive?
“Ye should see the gardens,” Cali continued, nonplussed by Margaret’s lack of response. “They’re nearly as bonnie as ye, Me Lady.”
“Perhaps you could take me there,” Margaret said, still unsure of how to react to being referred to as the lady of the castle. “That’s where I’m trying to go, but I can’t seem to find them.”
That’ll take some getting used to, I suppose.
“Aye, I’d love to,” she said, the expression on her face precluding what Margaret was sure would be disappointing news. “But the Laird is lookin’ for ye. I’ve been sent to find ye.”
“He’s looking for me?” Margaret muttered, blinking a few times in rapid succession. “Did he say why?”
“Nay,” Cali replied, giving her a sly smile. “If ye asked me to guess, I’d assume our Laird wants to spend time with his bride-to-be. Have ye set a weddin’ date?”
“Oh. Not quite yet, but I’m sure we will soon,” Margaret said, doing her best to return Cali’s grin. “Right. Of course. And do you happen to know where he may be?”
“Aye, last I saw him, he was headin’ to his study.” She stood there, apparently waiting for Margaret to head that way herself. “I’d say that’s where he is now.”
“Um,” Margaret said, fidgeting with her skirts. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. “Would you mind pointing me in that direction? I’m a bit turned around.”
“Right, of course, ye are,” Cali said warmly before taking off in the direction she came from, casting her gaze over her shoulder to ensure Margaret was following along. “Took me longer than I care to admit figuring the place out meself. I still get lost from time to time if the moon is out.”
“Then I’ll do my best to keep from getting discouraged while I learn,” Margaret joked.
Unlike the other playful statements she’d made since crossing the border, this one earned a laugh from Cali. It was a soft sound, reminding her a bit of the way Eva giggled behind her hand. For the first time since arriving at the castle, Margaret felt like there was someone truly on her side.
Funny how getting a laugh will do that.
The temporary warmth the interaction provided her faded in the same way a candle’s flame did when it ran out of wax at the sight of a figure looming down the hallway. Her smile wilted, and the hair on her arms stood up. She didn’t need to be able to see his features to know that it was Ryan.
His frame was unmistakable. Broad and muscular, he was imposing.
And as Margaret continued to approach, she could see the severe expression on his face.
It looked as though the amusement and playfulness from yesterday had waned.
Looking over her shoulder for help, Margaret was disappointed to find that Cali had already retreated.
Ah, she must think she’s intruding on a private moment between two people who are set to be married truly. She doesn’t know that all of this is fake and that I will leave if I can.
“There ye are,” Ryan grunted as he took hold of Margaret’s wrist and pulled her to the end of the corridor. “Been lookin’ for ye for half the day. I was beginnin’ to think ye ran off.”
“Well, it’s easy to get lost in this castle of yours,” she said, slightly curtly as she didn’t appreciate the way he was yanking her arm. “You wouldn’t happen to have a map that I could study, would you?”
Ryan didn’t laugh. Instead, his grip on her wrist became firmer. He tugged harder, hurrying her into a private area. Margaret didn’t like the idea of that—the idea of being alone with this beast.
Just as the fear her aunt had ingrained in her began to flare, the Laird stepped through the threshold of his study and let her go. As he closed the door behind them, she realized that she had seen this room before. This was where they’d spoken for the first time.
“I have some rules for this weddin’,” Ryan said, squaring his shoulders as he faced her directly. The fire roared in the hearth behind him, making him look even more imposing.
Margaret stiffened, and her breath stuttered. He was looking at her with the kind of intensity that made her want to cower and hide though she knew better than to show any fear.
A barrage of possible scenarios ran through her head. She imagined different scenes, ones where he proved that all the stories her aunt told were true. Not a single one of them ended well for her. Outcomes ranged from her freedom being taken to her life being violently torn from her.
What if he gives me a rule that I cannot agree to? I’m trapped in his castle. There’s no way I could get out on my own if he wanted to keep me here. I won’t be able to refuse whatever it is he’s about to say. Perhaps he is as bad as the Duke.
“First,” he said, taking a step toward her, forcing her to lift her head slightly to keep her eyes on him, “ye must obey me orders. This is me castle, and I am the Laird. I expect obedience and loyalty.”
Margaret blanched, taking a step back from Ryan.
Her thigh hit the back of an armchair, and she nearly lost her balance.
Still, she maintained his gaze, unable to tear her eyes away from the fiery brown of his irises.
This wasn’t the time to show fear or weakness, no matter how strongly she felt those emotions.
He’s showing me his true colors. Now, I shall find out that he’s exactly like the Highlanders in my aunt’s stories. I should have expected this when I first came to him.
“You… what… I…” she began, tripping over her words. It was only through the grace of God that she didn’t start blushing at her blunder. She took a moment to steady herself. “What about my freedom? Did you not promise it?”
“I didnae promise ye anythin’,” he said, his frown becoming more severe. He glared down at her, and she shrunk away from him a little. The only thing keeping her upright was the chair against her backside. “But ye’ll have yer freedom.”
Margaret felt herself trembling and was unable to do anything about it. She reached back, squeezing the seat, feeling the velvet beneath her fingertips. When she let go, she felt a little more grounded.
Though he was saying one thing, she was afraid that he was lying. They hardly knew one another. Ryan could be the kind of man who got what he wanted through lies and manipulation. Coming to him may very well have been a mistake, yet what other choice did she have?
“I’m nae lyin’ to ye,” Ryan said as though reading her thoughts. He moved back incrementally, giving her just enough space to breathe again. “But this is me castle, lass, and I willnae have people questionin’ me orders.”
Margaret felt as if she were backed into a corner despite the fact that she could easily sidestep him and run for the door. It would never work, though. She didn’t know the layout of the castle. If she tried to escape now, she’d surely be captured.
I doubt the dungeons here are as nice as my quarters. It’s best if I play along for now.
Unable to find the words to respond, Margaret nodded.
This scenario was so similar to she was trying to avoid.
There would be no room to live the kind of life that she wanted.
She’d damned herself to following orders and doing whatever a man told her to do, lest there would be consequences.
She wondered if perhaps she would have been better off dealing with Duke Cunningham.
He’s the devil, but he’s the devil I know. At the very least, Duke Cunningham would take me to balls. I’d see my family. Laird McGhee could confine me to Scotland.
“Ye’re free to move around as ye wish,” Ryan told her, his stare still intense. He gave her a second to refocus on him. “But ye’re to be the Lady of Clan McGhee. There are some duties that ye must attend to.”
Margaret’s terror waned a bit. Her hands still worked the fabric of her skirt, but she felt like she could breathe again.
If she could move about as she desired, she could give a few hours of her time when necessary.
That was only fair. She couldn’t expect her new title to come without some sort of work though she hoped she wouldn’t have to follow through with the wedding.
She didn’t know what kind of duties she’d be entrusted with, but she supposed they couldn’t be all that bad.
Perhaps she’d be interacting with the people of Clan McGhee.
They seemed like a fun lot when they weren’t staring at her as though she were some curiosity on display.
She might even get the chance to speak to the little girl who had waved at her.
“Well, then I have a rule, too,” she said, bolstered by the knowledge that she wasn’t being held here as a prisoner.