Chapter Fifteen #2
will—can do what they want, but those who live within Castle
Cumhacht’s walls are subject to the laird’s wishes in matters of
marriage.” He sighed. “He’ll probably marry Catriona off to one of
his trusted soldiers, like Finn or Ramsay. I despise the idea, but
they’re fighting men, unlike me.”
“What you lack in fighting skills you more
than make up for with your intelligence. You’re useful in other
ways. Not everyone is born to fight.”
“It’s unlikely Lachlan would see it that
way.”
“Then I’ll talk to him.”
Victor pepped up at that. “You would?”
“Of course.” Veronica tilted her head. Her
smile was sad. “After everything we’ve been through do you still
not understand how much your life and happiness means to me?”
Her brother didn’t look as though he knew
what to say to that. “Thank you, Nica,” he softly praised. “Truly.”
He cleared his throat and regained his composure. “I hope you know
how much I love you. I did all of this for you.”
Veronica felt tears gathering in her eyes.
“I know,” she whispered. “Mom and dad would be so proud of us. We
both fought our asses off to save each other.”
“I didn’t exactly fight—”
“Yes. Yes you did, Victor. It’s a different
kind of fighting, but it’s not ‘less than’ in any way. Look at what
you accomplished. You created the unthinkable. Time travel exists
because of you. Now we are living in an era where the situation is
far from ideal, but at least we can be certain the dead stay in
their graves.” She stood up and walked to where he sat at his desk.
She placed a loving hand on his shoulder. “You did good, baby bro.
Really, really good. I couldn’t be prouder.”
His face flushed, but he found a small
smile. “I’m happy you approve. Like I said, I did my research
before choosing which clan we’d come to. I know this will work out
for you. I can feel it in my bones.”
“I hope you’re right about that.” Veronica
turned the subject back to the original issue at hand. It was
easier to deal with than her own situation. “Anyway, I’ll talk to
Lachlan about Catriona. I, for one, think the two of you make an
adorable couple.”
*****
After eavesdropping on Veronica and Victor
for a spell, Lachlan took to his bedchamber and sat in one of two
chairs near to the hearth. Hero stood up, wanting a petting.
Lachlan was grateful for the distraction. He pet the dog, yet his
thoughts strayed back unbidden to the conversation he’d o’erheard.
His future English was not so good that he had been able to ken the
whole of their talk, but he’d understood enough to get the overall
picture.
At twenty and two, Catriona should have been
wed long ago. Had he done his sister a disservice in finding no mon
worthy of her? He sighed. ‘Twas clear his sister’s heart now lay
with Victor. Choosing any mon save him would like as naught reduce
Catriona to tears. Mayhap even Victor.
He frowned. Whilst Victor would not have
been his first choice in a husband for his sister, Veronica was
correct that Victor had strength in his own way. He could
accomplish feats none from this time could hope to do. But could
Victor keep his time traveling past to himself for a lifetime?
Lachlan dinna ken the answer.
Still, he wished for his sister’s happiness.
In truth, he wished for Victor’s as well. The mon had grown on him
to be sure, minus his mind-numbing speeches.
“I did my research before choosing which
clan we’d come to.”
The words Victor had uttered to Veronica
reverberated in Lachlan’s mind. In other words, Victor could just
as easily have chosen the Campbells or another clan entirely. Had
that happened, Veronica mayhap wouldna be his.
He sighed as he stood up, preparing to
return to his warriors for more training. ‘Twas possible he owed
his brother-within-the-law more than he’d once thought.
*****
After supper, the castle’s main occupants
sat in chairs near the great hall’s mountainous fireplace. Veronica
was the only one standing as the cobbler took measurements of her
feet. She held up her gown just above her ankles, careful to be
modest. She assumed that was the ladylike thing to do.
All she really had to base her knowledge of
ladies from antiquity on, though, was virtual downloads of
documentaries she’d half-assed paid attention to when she still
lived at home. Victor had been a history buff from a young
age—another facet of mom’s personality that had become a part of
his—so documentaries had forever been playing in the Banks’ home
during their youth. Victor and mom had watched them with eager
attentiveness; Veronica and daddy had acknowledged them as little
more than background noise while the duo played games together or
practiced martial arts.
Veronica wished she’d paid closer attention
to those documentaries back then because doing so would have
benefitted her overall situation in the here and now. Instead, she
was riddled with doubt and harbored what would have otherwise been
unnecessary anxiety from the fear of making unladylike
missteps.
Not that anyone seemed to notice if she did
make missteps. Or at least they pretended nothing was erroneous if
she had.
“I’m finished,” the cobbler, Hamish,
announced. “Please be seated, milady.” He turned to face Lachlan.
“Laird Gunn, how many pairs should I make?”
Lachlan shrugged. “Mayhap five. My wife can
decide upon their colors.”
Her face flushed. What the hell did she know
about choosing shoe colors? Luckily, Moira chimed in. “I’ll send a
messenger into the village after my daughter-within-the-law chooses
her bliaut colors on the morrow.”
Hamish nodded quickly. “Aye, milady.”
“Make six pairs,” Lachlan amended. His
expression was an odd mix of surliness and resignation. “My sister
is to be wed the soonest,” he said, causing gasps all around. “So
she will like as naught desire a new pair.”
Veronica’s eyes widened in alarm. She hadn’t
had a chance to speak with Lachlan privately yet. He’d been busy
after lunch training his men. “Umm…husband,” she ground out.
“I really think that—”
He held up a palm, silencing her. “After
giving my sister’s marriage much thought, I have chosen a husband
for her.”
Veronica gaped at him, not knowing what was
okay to say in such a public setting. She had promised to be the
dutiful wife while around others, but the crestfallen expression on
Victor’s face broke her heart. “Lachlan…”
Poor Catriona looked ready to faint.
Clearly, she was faring no better than Victor. “Brother,” she
begged, “I—”
“You will wed with Victor, Catriona.”
Lachlan inclined his head. “The soonest.”
Catriona and Victor’s faces went from dismal
to beaming with delight. Victor quickly stood up. “I-I would be
honored to marry Catriona. If you’ll have me?” he asked the genial
bride-to-be.
“Aye, Victor, I will have you,” she breathed
out, standing up too. She straightened her skirts and cleared her
throat before turning to Lachlan. “’Tis an excellent match, this.
Your sister and your finest—and only!—sorcerer. Thank you for your
wisdom, brother.”
Sorcerer indeed. Veronica would have grinned
were she not in total shock from Lachlan’s proclamation. She
supposed being a wizard was as close to being a scientist as
medieval times allowed for. Whatever the case, her brother was
getting his happiness in the form of Catriona’s hand in marriage.
She couldn’t have been more ecstatic for the both of them.
“This is wondrous news!” Moira sang out, her
hands clapping together. “My beloved daughter won’t be dragged from
this keep to wed with one of the bedamned Campbells.” Lachlan’s
eyebrows rose when his mother used a curse word. “She shall remain
here where she belongs.”
Lachlan grunted. He jabbed a finger at
Victor. “My sister will become the Lady Banks, yet will your
children be surnamed Gunn.”
“Sure,” Victor replied without hesitation.
“That’s fine by me.”
Veronica, now bemused by the situation,
could only stare dumbly at Lachlan. She had no words. Had he too
picked up on the growing attraction between Victor and Catriona?
She assumed he hadn’t paid it any attention. So much for
assumptions.
“Hopefully Catriona will be awake for her
ceremony,” Veronica teased, earning sniggers from the gathered
group of Gunns. Lachlan had the good grace to flush. “A bride only
has one wedding after all.”
Still giggling, Catriona chimed in. “’Tis
true, that. And I wish to give Father Archer mine own ‘aye’ whilst
standing upright and awake.”
Veronica grinned. She looked at the laird
and her eyebrows rose in challenge.
“I take your point!” Lachlan snapped.
Everyone at the head table save Laird Gunn
shared a laugh. “Speaking of your rather clandestine marriage,”
Moira chimed in, “I think we should use Catriona and Victor’s
reception as a way to formally introduce your lovely wife to all of
Clan Gunn. The villagers needs must ken who their new lady is.”
Veronica blushed. The thought of all that
attention was a bit much. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to take away from
Catriona’s big day by bringing the focus on me.”
“’Tis but a formal introduction, my dear,”
Moira assured her.
“I dinna mind sharing my day with you,
sister.” This from Catriona. “In fact, I would be honored.”
Moira clapped her hands together. “Then it’s
settled!”
Now it was Lachlan looking smug while
Veronica came to terms with being thrust into the medieval
spotlight. She shot him a look, wondering if he could see the
proverbial daggers in her eyes. She hated being the center of
attention—always had. Still, she would just have to deal with it.
But not before she wiped the smugness off the giant’s face.
“Will I be awake for the formal
introduction, husband?” she pointedly asked. Her tone was
syrupy sweet. “Or will the villagers be traipsing through our
bedroom to have a look at my sleeping form?”
He frowned at the ensuing laughter. “I said
I take your point!”