Chapter Ten
After another day of traipsing through the beauty of the Highlands, they made camp near a quiet lake. Tension still hung heavy in the air betwixt them. A remnant from whatever had passed betwixt them earlier.
For a moment, after she’d crossed the bridge and landed straight into Rory’s strong arms, she had dared to dream that Rory was her betrothed. But, he had quickly squashed that when he had realized what he was doing.
But she had noticed the way he held her with all the care of a fragile being. The way he nuzzled her hair. Those weren’t actions of someone who cared naught for her. Nay, those were actions of someone who cared greatly for the person they were embracing.
She’d reveled in those brief seconds. Burning the feeling into her memory so she would have it to latch on to when she was given over to her true betrothed. Wrong as that may be.
Alana may not ken much, but she didn’t have to think very hard to ken that her husband-to-be would never hold her so gingerly.
And that made her angry. Why could she not be given the chance to love and be loved?
She walked to the shore of the lake and sat down on the pebbly sand, looking out over the dark blue water, so different from the water at the Falls of Fae they had climbed to.
A gentle wind blew, causing slight ripples to run across the surface afore gently lapping the shore.
On the surface, the clouds reflected on the lake, slowly moving away from her to the other side.
She wished she could escape her predicament like the clouds could escape their reflection.
If she could, she would run far, far away.
Where she couldn’t be found, and no one would ken her name.
Lost in thought, she didn’t hear Rory approach and pick up a pebble. She watched as he skipped it across the surface. It made four hops afore it sank into the dark blue depths.
He looked at her but remained silent. Waiting.
She sighed. She didn’t like the blanket of tension that had been hovering over them all afternoon. Looking up at him, she squinted. “Will ye sit with me?” She asked quietly.
He pondered her question for a long moment, his lips pressed into a thin line afore finally nodding. Dropping down beside her he bent his right leg at the knee and rested his arm on it as he looked out at the water, avoiding her gaze, and waited.
Taking a deep breath, she decided to let him in. To see the person that she was inside. Not the one he thought he kenned when he’d been sent to escort her to her new home.
“Less than two months ago, I found out aboot my betrothal,” she began.
“The news took me completely unawares as I hadnae seen it coming. Nor did I expect it. I was told ’twas time I performed my duty for my family.
For our clan. My father had sought an alliance to secure the safety of the Duran clan.
We are one of the smaller clans and with the English to the South and larger clans surrounding us, we needed protection.
An alliance to a strong clan that once ’twas announced we had joined forces, the constant attacks of our land would stop.
The price for that alliance was my hand. ”
Rory scoffed and shook his head. “Ye’ve lived in a gilded cage all this time. I am sure yer new husband will provide ye the same type of life ye are accustomed to.”
Alana bristled, not liking his accusatory tone. “Ye are naive if that is what ye believe.”
“I would ne’er marry for obligation. I dinnae care who ordered me to do so.”
“Ye say that, but ye cannae really ken until ye are put into the position. Look at how yer father ordered ye to escort me. Ye listened to him then. Ye obeyed his order.”
He tossed another rock into the water. It entered with a plop and a small splash. “’Tis different. He wasnae ordering me to marry ye.” He started to say something else, but snapped his mouth shut.
“No’ e’eryone has the luxury of choice in such matters.
Some of us must do what is demanded of us—no matter how unpleasant it may appear to be.
I had no such choice of refusal. Growing up as a young lass, I had been told ad nauseam aboot what my duty to my family was.
I kenned that I would eventually be used as a bargaining tool. ”
Rory scoffed. “So ye are the one responsible for the chains ye now find yerself in. Yer own complicity is to blame for yer betrothal.”
Alana frowned. Had the man not listened to a word she had said? That was not what she had explained at all. “I didnae say that.”
“It sounds to me like ye did. Ye kenned yer whole life that this would be yer fate. If it was something ye were so against, ye would have found a way to extricate yerself from yer predicament.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Ye are daft if that is what ye truly believe. I had no choice. My father made it quite clear of that. As did my mother.”
Rory shook his head. “Nay, ye always have a choice.”
“Mayhap ye do!” She couldn’t keep the shrill from her voice, but the man was so frustrating.
She threw her hands up in the air. “’Tis different for men, ye weel ken that.
Women rarely have a say in such matters.
I,” she jabbed her thumb at her chest. “Did no’ have any say.
I was given no other option. I was ordered that this would be my future.
I couldnae say nay.” She swiped at a tear that threatened to spill over onto her cheek.
She wasn’t crying because she was sad. She was crying because she was mad.
It was a trait that had always been seen as a weakness.
But her angry tears made her stronger. Made her sit up straighter.
Push back her shoulders and jut her chin out stubbornly.
She felt that Rory was attacking her personally and she took affront to that.
“How are ye any better than me, pray tell?” she asked.
His head snapped to hers and their eyes clashed in fury.
“Pardon?”
“Aye. Ye may not e’er be forced to marry like I have, but ye dinnae handle yer home life any better.”
“Ye dinnae ken what ye are talking aboot,” he snapped.
She stood and crossed her arms as she looked down at him. “Och, aye, I do. Whereas I accept my fate, kenning I can do naught aboot it, ye run away from yers. Ye spend days upon days frolicking through the Highlands. Running. Hiding away.”
“I have ne’er run away from a challenge in my life,” he growled.
“Nay?” She countered. “I beg to differ. Ye run all the time. And mayhap ye are not running from a challenge. Or an order. Mayhap ye run because ye are afraid to be needed.”
Rory stood up so quickly that Alana stumbled back a few steps. The fury on his face had turned his usually bright green eyes to the color of the darkest moss on the moors. His fists clenched at his sides, he stood there for a few minutes, his eyes boring into hers.
She wanted to shrink under his gaze, but she refused to show him weakness and matched his intense gaze.
Without a word, he stormed off to gather firewood, leaving her alone.
Fighting tears, Alana ran back to where they’d set up camp and rummaged through her pack for the amber fossil her mother had given her. Clasping it to her chest, she sank onto her blanket and cried silently as she stroked the cool stone.
Rory didn’t understand her predicament. He thought that she could just say no to her father’s orders and that would be the end of it.
How little he kenned about a woman’s place in the world they lived in.
He saw everything through a man’s eyes. Life would be so much easier for her if she was afforded that luxury. But she was not.
She couldn’t refuse the betrothal. She could only hope that it would be somewhat pleasant.
Why couldn’t Rory see that she didn’t have a choice?