Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
O ch, I’ve gone and put me boot in the midden, right and proper. Fair Folk Light and Dark damn me and me temper.
Alistair stared at Niamh, unable to find any words to say. She, in turn, looked back at him, her eyes wide as she stepped closer. “What dae ye mean, ye’re me betrothed? ‘Tis nae possible.”
There was no help for it. He’d made the mistake, and it was too late to try and pretend otherwise. She might be angry now, even feel betrayed, but that would be nothing compared to what she felt if he tried to lie to her any further.
He sighed. “Yer faither and I met tae discuss it last night. I planned tae introduce meself taeday during the festival and begin courtin’ ye.”
He watched as Niamh’s expression changed, tracking her emotions as they passed through disbelief, outrage, doubt, hurt, uncertainty, and back to outrage, with a glimmer of betrayal. “Ye’re lying.”
“On me honor as a MacDuff, I am nae.”
Tears of mingled fury and hurt sparkled in her emerald eyes. “Then... all o’ this... bumping intae me... ye planned it all?”
“Nae all o’ it. I intended tae find ye at a tavern or food-seller’s stall and introduce meself there, but I’ll own I thought tae make the best o’ the opportunity when ye crashed intae me.”
“Did ye ken who I was when I ran intae ye?”
“I had a good idea who ye are. Yer faither gave me a description o’ ye.”
“I dinnae believe ye. Me faither wouldnae dae any such thing. He kens I dinnae want tae get married.” Her eyes were wide, disbelieving.
This wasn’t a conversation he was willing to have here, and not in front of the English wench Niamh insisted on calling a friend.
With a grunt, he put an arm around Niamh’s waist and hefted her over his shoulder. “I dinnae care whether ye believe me words, Niamh Cameron, but we’re leaving now, unless ye want something worse than harsh words tae befall yer English ‘friend’.” He spat the last word with as much contempt as he could muster.
“Here now, you cannae just…” Alistair leveled a harsh look at the girl, and the English woman jerked back as if he’d struck her.
“Dinnae get in me way, if ye value yer life and freedom.”
He bent close. “I’ll nae call the guards on ye, fer her sake, but best ye get gone, afore someone else daes.” With that, he turned and strode from the clearing, with Niamh still slung across his shoulders.
He ignored the hissed insults and the blows against his shoulder. He wasn’t sure what he would do now that the ruse had been abandoned, but he knew he couldn’t just step away. He was still debating on the proper course of action when Niamh made the choice for him. “I dinnae care any more. Tak’ me tae me faither, right now, so I can prove ye fer the liar ye are.”
He wasn’t looking forward to the discussion. Even so, they might as well get all the unpleasant truths out in the open. “As ye command.”
Niamh felt numb, her stomach churning and tears in her eyes. The day that had started with such promise had turned into a nightmare. She’d been forcibly dragged away from her best friend. And now, it appeared that the stranger she’d ‘met’ had ulterior motives.
She didn’t really believe that her father had agreed to betroth her to anyone, let alone anyone as rude and coarse as Alistair MacDuff. Even so, he seemed far too confident as he carried her through the crowd toward her father’s castle.
As they neared the gates, Alistair set her on her feet. Niamh glared at him, then strode up to the portal. “Send word tae me faither that I wish tae speak tae him in the receiving room, at once. ‘Tis urgent.”
“Aye me lady. And yer companion?”
“He’s nae me companion, but he will join me faither and I.”
“Aye.” The guard bowed and hurried away. Niamh gave Alistair an icy glare, then turned and stalked across the courtyard to the main part of the castle. Alistair followed a step or two behind her, seemingly unconcerned.
There was no telling where her father might be, with the festival in full swing. As the laird, he attended many events and had several tasks to manage throughout the day. Unable to wait, she turned to Alistair. “Tell me what ye were talking about, earlier. What did ye mean by saying that ye were me betrothed?”
Alistair sighed, his face set in an expression of resignation. His voice was soft with something she thought might be regret when he answered. “I meant what I said. I met with yer faither tae discuss an agreement between our clans. He needs ye wed, fer reasons o’ his own, and I’m in need o’ a wife tae appease me clan. He didnae want tae make ye feel forced, so the contract was that I wouldnae introduce meself as yer suitor, but rather attempt tae court ye without revealing the contract.”
“Then why…?” She could feel tears stinging in her eyes, and refused to let them fall. She’d not give him the satisfaction.
Alistair shook his head, and she saw a flare of self-recrimination in his eyes. “I lost me temper and spoke in haste. I didnae intend tae break the terms o’ the bargain so soon.”
He stepped closer to her. “I dinnae ken if it matters tae ye, but the courtship was meant tae be honest. I’ll give ye me word on that.”
“I dinnae trust yer word.” She swallowed hard against the aching hurt in her chest. “Ye ken I didnae want tae be wed, clearly, so how could ye plan anything other than tae bring me tae the altar against me will, sooner or later?”
Alistair grimaced. “The plan was tae win ye and convince ye tae agree tae wed me o’ yer own will. Tae that end, the contract was meant tae be a promise that nay one would interfere in me courtin’ o’ ye.”
“But why?” She heard her voice quavering, and her hands ached with how tight she’d clenched them into fists. “Why would me faither agree tae such a thing?”
“That’s somethin’ ye should be asking him.”
She had every intention of asking her father, but now she had a bigger question in mind. “And ye... everything ye said and did... it was just a ploy tae win me over? Ye didnae mean any o’ it?”
Was the kiss just a deliberate ploy as well, rather than the accident he claimed it was?
For the first time since he’d dragged her away from Grace, Alistair looked uncomfortable. “That’s nae true…”
“But ye just said ye planned tae meet me. How could ye mean aught if ye planned everything? How can I believe any part o’ our encounter was truth, rather than planned?”
Alistair’s eyes sparked with something that might have been irritation or apology. “The meeting was planned, but that doesnae mean that everything was.”
Niamh bit her lip, torn between wanting to believe him and her own inability to trust a word from his mouth. “I cannae trust aught ye say.”
Alistair stepped forward. “Niamh, I promise ye, I didnae lie…”
“Ye’ve nae spoken one word o’ truth since I crashed intae ye! It was all a lie, planned by ye and me faither!” Her voice cracked and rose to a shout, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“Niamh? What are ye shouting for? What is it that’s upset ye so?” Her father Bruce came in at that moment, concern on his face. For one moment, Niamh’s heart leaped with hope.
Then his eyes landed on Alistair, and a frown creased his brow. “Laird MacDuff? What are ye doing here, with me daughter?”
He knew Alistair. Niamh felt her heart shatter, even as Alistair bowed and spoke in an apologetic tone. “She kens about the agreement between us.”
She wanted to see disbelief or outrage on her father’s face. She wanted him to demand that Alistair explain his disrespectful words. Instead, she witnessed the worst thing she’d ever imagined seeing on his face. Resignation, and apology.
Her knees felt weak as she faced him. “Faither... what... ye couldnae have... ye didnae... did ye?”
Her father grimaced. “Ye werenae supposed tae find out about the arrangement like this. I’m sorry Niamh.”
“How could ye? Ye kent I didnae want tae get married! How could ye arrange a betrothal behind me back?”
Her world was shattering around her, betrayal filling her blood with ice. She’d never imagined that her father might actually stoop so low. “Tell me why?”
“We need the support o’ yer maither’s clan tae help shore up the clan’s defenses. But they would only agree tae give us that support if ye were wed tae a Highland laird.” Bruce stepped forward, his expression contrite. “I ken ye dinnae desire tae be wed, daughter, but if ye’d just tak’ the time tae get tae ken Laird MacDuff…”
“I already ken he’s a liar.” Niamh spat the words. “Just like ye.”
Alistair scowled. “I didnae tell ye the whole truth, lass, but that doesnae give ye room tae call me honor intae question, and less so yer faither’s. He’s a laird with a whole clan tae consider.”
Niamh ignored him. She was focused on her father. “Would ye ever have told me the truth?”
“I hoped I wouldnae have tae.” Bruce shook his head, weariness and sorrow in his gaze. “Niamh... please. Ye ken I wouldnae wish tae dae this, but ye’ve driven away every other suitor I’ve tried tae present ye. What else was I tae dae?”
“Ye could have respected me wishes.” Anger and hurt clawed at her, and she grasped for the anger to keep the pain at bay. “In any case, ye act as if it was me fault that none o’ those men ye tried tae coax me intae accepting refused tae stay. They’re nae much, if a little bit o’ clumsiness and drinkin’ were enough tae make them withdraw.”
“I ken ye did it deliberately. That was part o’ why I asked Laird MacDuff tae woo ye without revealin’ his purpose.”
Niamh took a step back, her anger faltering momentarily at his words. “Ye kent…?”
“O’ course.”
The anger and hurt returned, like a storm crest lashing against castle walls. “Ye kent I was that determined tae remain unshackled tae any man, and yet, ye did this.”
“Aye.”
“And ye just expected me tae go along with yer plans?”
Laird Bruce Cameron flinched at the iciness of her tone. “I was hopin’ ye’d want the marriage, but I wasnae thinking tae force ye. And I’ll still nae, if ye absolutely refuse.”
Niamh turned to face Alistair, who stood watching their confrontation with an impassive expression. “And ye? Did ye intend tae force me tae wed ye, if I didnae fall fer ye as ye wished?”
“I hadnae thought on the matter one way or another. However, I’ll nae tak’ ye without yer word that ye’ll come willing tae the altar.” Alistair shifted. “An angered wife I can live with, but I’d nae have forced ye intae me bed, if that’s what ye’re askin’.”
An angered wife is acceptable... daes he mean tae say me happiness isnae important tae him, so long as I dinnae refuse outright?
The thought stung.
She was tempted to refuse. She wanted, with every fiber of her being to tell both her treacherous father and Laird Alistair MacDuff to go hang themselves off the battlements or jump in the nearest loch. And yet, the words wouldn’t come.
She knew the state of her father’s castle and knew as well that he’d been worried for the better part of a season over the condition of the storm-damaged walls. He’d tried to keep her from worrying, but she had eyes. She’d seen the damaged window shutters, the cracked stones and places where the mortar needed to be replaced. And a blind man could tell where the stones of the outer wall had been knocked down.
If the wall was not rebuilt before winter’s end, she knew that the vulnerability would invite attacks by rival clans and bandits. Worse, the hole in their defenses would make it more difficult to repel such attacks.
She also had imagined, as a result, that there was very little gold and silver available to pay for the necessary craftsman to see the repairs done properly.
Her mother’s clan, on the other hand, was one of the wealthier clans in the Highlands. With their help, her father could ensure the clan was safe, and that the castle was sealed against winter winds and drafts.
If the price of that help was her marriage to Alistair MacDuff, how could she in good conscience refuse?
“Niamh?” Her father stepped forward; arms raised as if to embrace her.
Niamh stepped backward. “Dinnae touch me, Faither. I’ll marry, since it seems tae matter so much tae ye, but I dinnae want ye tae touch me, nor speak tae me.” Her voice wavered for a moment, and she fought to steady it. “Ye kent I didnae wish tae wed, and rather than speak frankly tae me about it, ye chose tae try and trick me, and arranged a marriage behind me back. Me faither ye may be, but right this moment, I dinnae want anything tae dae with ye.”
She started to turn away, but Alistair stepped forward. “If this discussion is over, and ye arenae refusing the betrothal, then best we start the journey back tae me lands. ‘Tis a long ride, and ‘twill be longer still with yer luggage.”
She wanted to spit in his face, but that desire was nowhere near as strong as her desire to be away from her father, and the place where she had been so grievously betrayed by her only remaining kinfolk. So instead, she lifted her chin and gave him her iciest glare. “If that is how ye feel, me laird , then best ye step aside and let me retire tae pack me things.”
She wasn’t sure whether it was her expression or the venom with which she spoke his title, but Alistair stepped aside. Niamh swept past him, back straight and eyes forward, refusing to look at either her father or her prospective groom.
She was halfway to her rooms when a thought came to her, one that gave her a sense of grim glee, despite her current situation and the hurt that filled her when she thought of the events of the past candle-mark.
He thought me list o’ sins was humorous, and said he didnae care if he had an angry bride so long as I was a willing one.
I wonder, Laird Alistair MacDuff, if ye truly mean those words, and how ye’ll react when I give ye exactly that.