Chapter Twenty-Three
Seona stood outside her sister’s door, waiting to hear the name of the man her father planned to marry her off to. Although a title meant naught to her, at the moment she wished Keegan had the grandest title in the land, simply so she’d be allowed to marry him.
“Talia?” Seona asked, moisture burning her eyes. “Tell me who.”
“Laird Wentworth from farther south. He is a baron.”
She didn’t know whether to be relieved that he was none of the horrid chiefs she knew, or more terrified of the unknown. “I have never heard of him. Have you seen him?”
“Aye, he visited. He is not terribly old. I would say thirty summers. But you would not like him. He is pompous and arrogant.”
“Perfect,” Seona muttered, hating her father more with each second that passed.
Footsteps clomped up the stairwell behind her.’Twas Fleming, one of the guards who had worked here forever. Although his hair was mostly gray, he was still a brawny man. “What are you about? Oh. Lady Seona, welcome home.” He bowed.
“I thank you, Fleming. I wish to go in and speak to my sister. Have you the key?”
“Aye, but I must ask Chief Murray.”
“Please do.”
Fleming disappeared down the stairwell.
Seona turned back to the door. “How long have you been locked in there?”
“Five days,” Talia said.
“Good Lord. Have the maids brought you food?”
“Aye.”
“And are you eating?”
“Aye.”
Seona was glad for that at least, but she needed to see if her sister had lost weight. When Talia was upset, she would sometimes avoid meals. “Why did you not remain with Cousin Genevieve?” She would’ve been safe and cared for there, at least.
“I did for several months, but when spring arrived, Father came to retrieve me.”
“I see.”
“So he could find me a husband.” Talia started crying again. “I won’t marry the beast!”
Footsteps echoed on the stone steps.
“Shh… the guard is returning. Move away from the door.”
Fleming came into view. “Your father said you could visit with your sister.” He unlocked the door.
“I thank you,” Seona said, then entered the room.
The lock clicked behind her, giving her a cold chill.
Talia lit a candle from the hearth fire and placed it on a nearby table. Seona hurried to her and, when Talia faced her, Seona couldn’t believe the bruise covering the left side of her face. Her cheek was purple with tinges of green and yellow. At least it appeared to be healing.
“Oh, heavens, Talia.” Tears filling her eyes, Seona stroked the uninjured side of her sister’s sweet face. ’Twas almost as if they were wee girls again, huddling in a chamber, hoping their father stayed far away.
Talia grabbed her in a hug and sobbed against her shoulder. Seona embraced her tightly and stroked her back. “Shh, 'tis all right.”
Never had their father given Seona such a huge bruise, though he had slapped her hard four different times. Seona had always tried to protect her younger sister. She regretted that she hadn’t been here this time, but she’d had no choice in the matter.
Talia pulled back and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. “I’ve decided, if I can get out of this room, I’m going to run away.”
“What? Where would you go?”
“I know not. Anywhere.”
“Talia—”
“Nay. Do not try to talk me out of it.”
Certainly Seona had dreamed of running away, too, but she had never seriously considered it because she had to stay and protect her sister.
Plus, as women, they had no means. No money, aside from what their father gave them.
They had no relatives in distant villages who might hide them.
All their relatives were close-by, and worst of all, they were loyal to her father… or they feared him.
If only Seona could have married one of the MacKays.
Keegan, of course, was the man she wanted so desperately to marry, but she feared her father would not even consider it.
If she could’ve married a decent man, she’d hoped to bring her sister to live with her.
But now she knew that might not be possible, if her father was bent on arranging a marriage between Talia and the Comyn chief.
Seona’s stomach pained her for she was trapped just as she’d always been.
“We must think of a solution,” she told Talia.
“I have. I’m running away.”
“Do you have a plan? How will you support yourself? Where will you stay? How will you buy food?”
Talia crumpled onto the bench near the hearth. “I know not,” she sobbed.
Seona sat beside her and rubbed her back. “Shh. We must think.”
Heavens! If only Seona could marry Keegan, she could take Talia with her to Durness and keep her safe.
Away from old, beastly chiefs who wanted to marry young girls.
Talia would love staying with the MacKays.
They were a lively and considerate group.
The man Seona loved and her best friend were among them.
To think of never seeing them again broke her heart. They were her true family.
Keegan had said he was going to ask her father for her hand. Would he still do this after having met her father? Keegan was a strong, brave man and Seona couldn’t see him being intimidated by her father. Although perhaps he should be, given her father’s ruthlessness.
If only Laird Rebbinglen could convince her father to see Keegan’s merits. Tanist was no small position within a clan. But more importantly, Keegan was an honorable, protective, and responsible man. Unfortunately, these admirable qualities were not of utmost importance to her father.
Her stomach knotted when she imagined Keegan standing before her father, asking for her hand. She feared her father would fly into an instant rage and try to hurt Keegan.
“I’m tired of thinking about all this,” Talia said. “Tell me of your adventures in the north and why you didn’t marry the MacKay chief.”
There was so much. How could Seona possibly tell her sister of everything she’d seen and experienced since last autumn? “You must promise not to tell anyone.”
“Of course I won’t tell. I promise.”
Seona told her of how beautiful Durness was in the spring, but how harsh and cold in the winter, and how she and their aunt had traveled from Tongue to Durness in the bitter cold.
She told her of the friendly, fun-loving MacKay clan and how she envied Dirk and Isobel’s love match.
She told her of the battles they’d endured on their journey south again and how Haldane MacKay wanted to kidnap her.
Seona knew not how long she talked. She could go on for hours about the MacKays and Isobel and how she enjoyed spending time with them.
“What are you not telling me?” Talia asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I can tell you’re keeping a secret.”
Keegan was her secret. A few of the men knew, of course.
But dare she tell her sister? She had always kept her secrets.
Talia disliked Aunt Patience’s spying as much as Seona did.
And how could Seona not tell her sister the most amazing thing that had happened to her—she’d fallen in love with a most remarkable man.
“What is that grin?” Talia asked.
Seona hadn’t realized she was grinning. She immediately tried to control her expression.
“Is it a man? You met someone in Durness and fell in love,” Talia said in an excited tone, her eyes wide.
“Aye,” Seona admitted in a low voice, her face burning.
Talia grabbed Seona’s hands. “Tell me about him! What is his name?”
“You must promise to tell no one. Lives could be in danger.”
“I promise not to tell anyone.” Talia almost bounced upon the bench.
“Very well. His name is Keegan MacKay,” Seona whispered. “He is the cousin of Chief MacKay and the clan’s tanist.”
Talia grinned, her dark eyes alight with excitement. “What is he like? Is he handsome and kind?”
“Aye, indeed. The kindest and most handsome man I have ever laid eyes upon. He protected me during the journey here.”
“What does he look like?”
“He has a beautiful, charming smile, pale blue eyes, and tawny-brown hair. He is tall and strong. A warrior.”
“He sounds a dream! How old is he?”
“Six-and-twenty. He has told me he loves me.”
“Oh, Seona. I’m so happy you found someone.” Talia hugged her.
“He asked me to marry him, but I fear Father will not allow it.”
Talia pulled back, her expression somber. “’Tis unfair. You must find a way to be with him.”
“More than anything, I wish there was a way. Keegan is tanist and next in line to be chief, but you know as well as I that is not enough for Father.”
“He is obsessed with wealthy lairds and chiefs.”
“Aye, and I fear when Keegan asks him for my hand, he will insult Keegan horribly, or try to hurt him.”
∞∞∞
Unable to believe his good fortune, Chief Ambrose Murray showed Laird Rebbinglen into his private meeting room and they took seats near the warm hearth.
During supper, he’d learned that Rebbinglen was unmarried.
To have one of his daughters marry an earl would be more than he could’ve imagined.
He poured two small crystal glasses of whisky and gave one to the dark-haired young man.
He remembered seeing the lad when he was around five summers.
’Twas hard to believe he was such a big strong man now and obviously well-liked and respected.
“Slàinte.” Murray swallowed a generous gulp of the fiery liquid, enjoying the burn and trying to think of the most diplomatic way to bring up this most important subject. “Laird Rebbinglen—”
The earl held up his hand. “I’d be pleased if you would call me Rebbie as my friends do.”
Murray smiled. ’Twas almost as if they were family already. “I would be honored. Everyone calls me Murray, friends and enemies alike.”
“Murray.” Rebbie lifted his glass again.
“Rebbie,” he began again, though he felt awkward not calling the esteemed man a more formal name. “I thank you for bringing my daughter home and keeping her safe.”
“Well, I—”
“Nay. I ken you will deny it, being the good man that you are. But I’m certain my daughter felt much safer with you than the rest of those men.”