Chapter 5
Kayden woke up early after a restless night. He could not help but think about the woman on the other side of the door.
What am I going to do with her?
Although he had an agreement with her father, he would not force her to lie with him. It was his wedding night, yet he spent it alone. He had been alone for so long that he felt he should be used to it.
His mind went to his late sister and what she might have thought of this situation. Even before she was taken by the redcoats and killed, she had hated the English.
He wondered if Sorcha would try to get along with his new wife or make her situation even more difficult. He had a feeling it would be the latter.
When the sun began to lighten the sky, he got up and went out to check on the new heifer.
Outside, the morning air was sharp with damp grass and peat smoke.
Kayden crossed the lower paddock, where the new heifer stood tethered, her breath steaming as she shifted her weight.
He checked her flank and feed, murmuring his approval before moving on, boots cutting a familiar path through the dirt.
Near the stone byre, a crofter straightened from his work and dipped his head. “Morning, Me Laird. She is settled well enough,” he said, gesturing to the cow. Then, after a pause, “Folks are talking.”
Kayden arched an eyebrow. “They always are.”
“Aye,” the man agreed, glancing to the side. “They daenae ken what to make of her yet, but they are excited.”
Kayden gave a noncommittal grunt and continued on.
Closer to the kitchens, an older woman hefting a basket of turnips gave him a curt nod. “Me Laird,” she began. “Are we to expect… changes in the near future, what with the new Lady McGill’s presence?”
“Am I nae a laird who is consistent and fair?” Kayden asked.
The woman met his gaze squarely. “Aye.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth. “Then ye may trust I have chosen a wife with the same qualities.”
“Aye, Me Laird. I trust in ye. Ye have our support.”
Kayden nodded at the woman, holding out a hand to take the basket from her, but she waved him away with a smile. He turned and walked thoughtfully towards the fields.
A younger lad tending to the sheep cleared his throat nervously. “Is it true that Lady McGill is a healer, Me Laird?”
“Aye, laddie.”
The boy nodded earnestly. “Me wee sister is still coughing. If the lady kens something about that, folks might warm up to her quicker.”
Kayden felt the weight of those words settle heavier than the mist. “We will see,” he said.
By the time the sun had fully cleared the hills, his jaw was tight with thought rather than fatigue. Lilliana had barely arrived, and she was already stirring unease among his people.
He turned, looking at the golden light washing over Malgrave Castle.
It looks quite beautiful just now.
He was then assaulted by images of Lilliana’s eyes, her warm body in his hands, and her wild anger.
An irritated growl tore from his chest as he shook his head and even went so far as to slap himself on both cheeks to snap out of it. “Come on, man. Ye have work to do!”
He shook his head again and trudged his way back to the castle, to the council chamber, where he found the day’s mail waiting. He was not surprised to find that Major Ashcombe had written to him.
He opened the letter, his eyes darting over the elaborate script.
Laird McGill,
I am writing to confirm the arrival of my daughter in Scotland and that the wedding has taken place successfully. As we have both gone to considerable lengths to bring it about, I trust that you ensured protocol has been observed. I do not need to remind you what is at stake.
Please apprise me of developments as soon as possible.
Regards,
Major Ashcombe
Kayden folded the letter once. Then again. He did not tear it, though the thought crossed his mind. He did not linger in the council chamber.
He did not speak of the letter to the men in the hall, nor to Moira when she passed him on the stairs. Instead, he tucked it inside his coat and went in search of Jacob.
He found his cousin near the outer yard, overseeing the unloading of grain. Jacob caught sight of him at once and dismissed the men with a flick of his wrist.
They walked side by side along the stone wall that overlooked the lower fields that Kayden had walked earlier that morning. They walked far enough away from the castle so that no one could overhear them.
Kayden stopped first. He did not look at Jacob when he spoke.
“He has written.”
Jacob exhaled through his nose. “I thought as much.”
Kayden handed him the letter without comment. Jacob read it quickly, his face tightening with each line. When he finished, he did not immediately give it back.
“So,” he said carefully, “he wants confirmation. In ink. And witnesses.”
“He wants assurance,” Kayden huffed, “that the bargain stands.”
Jacob glanced up. “And does it nae?”
Kayden took the letter back and folded it with deliberate care. “It does. It is done.”
Jacob studied him. “Ye daenae sound pleased.”
“I am nae displeased,” Kayden said. “There is a difference.”
They resumed walking. For a time, only the sound of their boots on gravel filled the space between them.
“He gains much,” Jacob said eventually. “A daughter settled. A Highland alliance. Fewer questions asked by his superiors.”
“And I gain time,” Kayden rumbled. “And fewer redcoats on me borders.”
Jacob nodded. “At the cost of—”
Kayden’s lips thinned. “Appearances.”
Jacob slowed down, then stopped altogether. “That is nae the same thing, Cousin.”
Kayden turned to him, his gaze sharp. “It is the only thing that matters to men like him.”
“And to ye?”
Kayden did not answer at once. His eyes swept over the land below them. The fields that his father had walked, walls behind them that his brother had helped repair.
“I intend to keep me word,” he said finally. “I intend to keep me clan safe. Beyond that, I intend to do nothing that hasnae already been agreed upon.”
Jacob folded his arms. “So ye will treat her as what, exactly? A wife in name only? A warning sign to the English?”
Kayden’s jaw set. “I willnae mistreat her.”
“That wasnae the question.”
Kayden’s gaze flicked back to him. “Nor is it one that requires an answer just yet.”
Jacob sighed softly. “She didnae come here kennin’ the full truth.”
“Nay,” Kayden agreed. “And that is his doing, nae mine.”
Jacob tilted his head. “And what will ye do, now that she is yer wife?”
Kayden’s face shuttered. “I will see that she is protected. That she wants for nothing. That she doesnae become a weakness that me enemies can use.”
“Aye,” Jacob said quietly. “And what if she refuses to be managed?”
Something brushed Kayden’s leg. Rua had appeared at his side, silent as ever. Kayden reached down and ran a hand through the hound’s fur.
“Then,” he said evenly, “she will learn what it means to live under me name.”
Jacob watched him for a long moment, saying nothing. Then he gave a short nod. “Well,” he said dryly, “that sounds like a marriage already!”
Kayden snorted. “God help us both.”
Rua pressed closer, tail thumping once against Kayden’s boot.
“And ye,” Kayden muttered, glancing down at the dog, “had better remember where yer loyalties lie.”
Jacob smiled faintly, but said nothing.
Breakfast was brought to her chambers, and Lilliana was relieved not to have to go out and face the masses. Betsy was already casting sidelong glances at her. It was clear that she was bursting to ask what had happened during the night.
Lilliana was embarrassed that there was nothing to tell.
Even the Scotsman did not want me.
After she finished her food and Betsy was busy procuring additional garments from the castle’s seamstress, she shot to her feet, ready to go and confront Kayden about it. She needed to know what her duties were now that they were married.
She might have fought to get away from Kayden before the wedding, but now that they were married, she expected to be treated like a wife and not thrown to the side as if she did not matter.
Lilliana straightened her spine as Bramble rubbed against her skirts, meowing for attention.
Running a hand down the cat’s fur, she smiled. “I will come back soon, Bram. Just give me a moment.”
With one more rub, she headed for the door, hurrying to close it behind her so that Bramble did not escape.
She turned back and almost knocked into the wall that had suddenly appeared in front of her.
She flailed to stop her fall, when she was pulled upright, a familiar pair of hands around her waist.
She froze as Kayden steadied her, while Rua barked an apology for tripping her. Even though she had set out to look for Kayden, she found that her throat had gone dry now that she was in front of him.
“Are ye well, lass?” he asked, leaning in to look into her eyes.
Her gaze flitted to his, and she stopped breathing, feeling as if she were falling into unfamiliar icy depths.
“I-I am fine,” she whispered, letting out a whoosh of breath.
“Are ye certain?” he asked.
All she could do was nod shakily.
Slowly, reluctantly, he let her go.
She could sympathize with him, for she did not want his big hands to leave her waist either.
Not when they held her so firmly, not when they felt so warm and comforting.
She was enveloped by him for a moment, his scent overwhelming, his breath intoxicatingly warm against her cheek, and then he was gone, stepping away from her, his eyes shuttered.
He gave a stiff bow. “Lilliana,” he murmured before walking away, Rua padding after him.
She watched him go, rooted to the spot. She wanted to call out to him, tell him they needed to talk, but she was struck by a strange shyness and found that she could not.
She watched his broad shoulders until he disappeared into his room and then released a breath she had not been aware she had been holding.
She shook her head, quite disappointed in herself. “This was your chance, Lilly. Why did you freeze like that?”
Since there was no one to answer her, she turned around and opened the door to her chambers, not wanting Betsy to find her lingering in the hall like a ghost.
Bramble sat on the bed, her claws out, scratching at the covers. Lilliana took a seat beside him and pulled him into her lap.
“Oh, Bramble.” She shook her head at the mess he made of the duvet. “What am I going to do?”
Kayden stood at his window, staring out as Rua settled by the fireplace.
It was a cold morning. The mist had yet to lift. The sounds of workers drifted up to him, though he could not see anyone. His hands twitched as a different voice drifted to him. One that was much closer.
He could still feel her soft curves beneath his hands as he steadied her earlier.
“Oh, Bramble, what am I going to do?”
He heard the words loud and clear through the door connecting their chambers and turned his head, taking a step towards it. He knew she had watched him walk into his chambers, so she must know he was here.
He took another step towards the door, unable to help himself.
“Did you see him?” she said. “No, of course you did not. If you had seen how he looked at me just now…”
He moved closer, wanting to hear the rest. He heard a loud sigh and a meow.
“He looks at me as though I am a problem to be managed rather than a woman to be spoken to,” she said softly. “Cold, commanding, and entirely convinced that his will is law. If that is the measure of a Highland husband, then I fear I married a stone.”
He took another step closer, shaking his head unconsciously.
Of course, she isnae that bad. Wherever did she get that idea?
“What kind of marriage will this be, Bram?” She sounded quite desolate.
He leaned his head against the door. The same question had been ringing in his head all night.