Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Do ye ken what is happenin’ here, Eloise?” Beatrice asked as they sat close to each other in the courtyard, watching a handful of children run in wild circles. “Did ye ken that I have been decreed to marry and came to Laird MacSween to ask his hand in marriage and his protection?”
“Nay, I didnae, but I was suspicious when I heard the news.” Eloise cocked her head and gave her the same look she used to give her when they were young girls. If Beatrice ever tried to hide anything from her, Eloise could find it out.
“I didnae ken what else to do,” Beatrice sighed.
“Ye did what ye could.” Eloise laced her fingers through Beatrice's and lifted their joined hands to the side of her face. “Love didnae come safely for me either. I found me way to it. I chose it against all odds.”
“Aye, and to many, it didnae make a good reason.”
Eloise raised an eyebrow, dropping their hands back between them. “It isnae for others to decide, but let me warn ye of this: nae makin’ a choice is a form of surrender, Bea. Daenae fall into that trap willingly.”
“Do I look like I already surrendered?” Beatrice tapped a shaking hand to her chest. “Ye can tell me the truth.”
The tender smile that followed was all the answer she needed.
“Nay,” Eloise said, touching her shoulder. “Ye look like ye’re standin' on the edge of becomin'.”
A well-dressed woman swanned into the courtyard, then stopped for a beat when she spotted Bea.
Oh, it’s Violet. I hardly recognized her, all fancy like that.
Violet crossed to them and stood with her hands on her hips and a practiced grin on her face. She inclined her head to Eloise and said, “I’m Violet,” in a manner that suggested they might have met already.
“This is Leo’s sister,” Beatrice elaborated. “Violet, this is Eloise, me cousin.”
“Oh, will wonders never cease.” Violet spun around as another woman entered the courtyard. “This is Claire, me cousin from London. She just arrived today for the ceilidh.”
Claire approached much more slowly and shyly than Violet had.
Everyone is probably shyer than Violet.
Beatrice wondered how the two women could be so different.
They remained silent for a long moment, as if no one was quite sure what to say. The shouts of the children filled the quiet until Violet laughed and threw her hands up in the air.
“Well, Beatrice, we have a lot to get ready for now, aye? Nay time to be sittin’ around when there’s a cèilidh to plan.”
“I havenae the foggiest idea what to do,” Beatrice admitted.
Violet wiggled her fingers in her face and shook her head. “Ye daenae have to do anything. It’s a MacSween affair. Let me handle it.”
“Ye can join us for the amusement tonight though, before all the plannin',” Eloise piped up.
Beatrice pressed her lips together. “Amusement? Tonight?”
“Aye, amusement.” Eloise reached down and pulled her to her feet while nodding at her ring. “Do ye nae remember, Bea?”
Violet was a force to behold as she whipped the entire clan into a frenzy in preparation for the celebration.
Beatrice could only watch, awed and slightly envious of how masterfully the woman could plan, command, and lead even the stubborn men who had leered at her.
“Me father isnae happy,” she muttered to Eloise when the whole clan and the families were seated in the Great Hall for dinner.
“Aye, but when is he ever?”
Toasts were made, cheers rose, and Beatrice felt a flutter in her stomach unlike anything she’d felt in her life.
It’s just me nerves. Nothing serious.
She caught Leo staring at her from across the table. He shifted in his seat when she stared back intently.
Her father remained tight-lipped and sullen for most of the night, though her mother tried to enjoy herself and speak to her about the dress she was going to be fitted for the next day. Beatrice pretended to be more excited than nervous.
As the drunken clansfolk stumbled off to their homes, Violet pulled Beatrice and Eloise away, a wicked glint in her eyes. Claire, Shona, and a few other maids followed behind them, and they slipped out of the castle into the lashing night.
“Where are we goin'?” Beatrice asked.
Suddenly, she was sprinting alongside the other women, no one concerned enough to give her an answer.
They came to a stop at the bank of a slow-rushing river, the water so dark it was almost black. Only the diminutive crests of white from the speed of the rapids reflected what little moonlight penetrated the low-hanging clouds.
“It’s a tradition, lass. Ye ken that!” Eloise exclaimed, her eyes glimmering even in the hermetic night. “Into the river we go!”
Raucous cheers rose, before everyone ran headlong into the water, splashing and slipping and falling into the chill without any concern. Beatrice felt the wet fabric cling to her skin. Her hair tumbled out of its careful braids, and her feet danced across the smooth, mossy rocks.
Laughing as the river churned around her, she reached into her pocket and curled her fingers around the ring there.
I make me own fate. I am me own master.
She fished the ring out of her pocket and tossed it absently into the fray. Where it went, she didn’t see, and what would happen to it, she didn’t care.
All of this is for show. I am promised to nay man.
And yet, seconds after she threw it, a sliver of regret stabbed into her. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, what it meant for her. Knee-deep in the river, with a gaggle of laughing women around her, she didn’t have a clue as to what she should be feeling.
A faint strip of moonlight briefly illuminated Claire’s face. Beatrice watched as she paused for a moment, her delicate brow furrowing as if something had caught her attention and wouldn’t let go. She crouched down, digging her hand around in the water.
There was so much motion from the other women and the eternal rapids that Beatrice thought it impossible that Claire had snagged anything of value.
It’s probably just a branch hittin' her foot. Me ring couldnae have been dragged away so far from here.
But when Claire straightened up, the ring was clasped between her two fingers. She held it in front of her face, studying it curiously. No one else had noticed.
Beatrice turned her face away as Claire slipped the ring onto her finger, smiling secretly to herself.
It’s her turn now.