Chapter 3
Oscar turned away from Ceana and raised one hand toward the MacKane men waiting near the tent wall.
The movement dismissed her argument as thoroughly as his body still blocked the entrance.
He believed she was Daphne Tulloch, the woman Angus MacWatt expected to claim before the festival ended, and his next order made clear that he intended to act upon that belief.
“Prepare the carriage,” he ordered. “We leave as soon as the horses are ready.”
Ceana stared at his back. She had expected another threat or more questions about Angus.
A carriage meant Oscar intended to remove her from the festival before her parents discovered she was gone.
Once he carried her beyond the grounds, the safe-conduct agreement between the gathered clans would offer her little protection.
She watched as he looked toward the man called Lennan. “Send word to Angus. Tell him that his intended is under me protection. I will claim the match before the festival closes.”
Lennan’s expression remained controlled, though his attention shifted briefly toward Ceana. “Do ye mean to call her yer match, me Laird, or yer hostage?”
“Me match.”
The answer tightened Ceana’s chest. A public claim made during the Leanan Festival does not constitute marriage, but it would place both clans under the eyes of every witness present.
Angus would hear that his intended had accepted protection from another laird.
Her father would be forced to prepare for a battle she had never meant to cause.
Oscar continued watching her as he gave the order. “Make certain Angus understands that any attempt to take her will be treated as an aggression against Clan MacKane.”
Lennan lowered his head.
Ceana crossed the short space before she could consider the wisdom of touching a man who had kidnapped her. She caught Oscar’s hand just as he began to dismiss Lennan.
His fingers were warm beneath hers and rough from years of sword work, while her hand looked small around the base of his thumb. He went completely still, and every man in the tent followed his gaze to where she held him.
Ceana noticed the contact only after the entire tent had fallen quiet.
She stood close enough to see the dark stubble along his jaw and the faint scar disappearing beneath his collar.
Her body registered his size and the steady strength of the hand she had seized.
She knew very well that escape would be tricky, if not impossible.
So she released him. The absence of contact came too quickly, and she curled her fingers against her palm as if the movement could erase the sensation.
“Stop these preparations,” she demanded. “Ye have misunderstood everythin’.”
Oscar’s attention sharpened on her face. He offered no jest about her touching him. “I understand that Angus intended to marry ye and that ye are safer away from him.”
“Ye put a sack over me head, declared me yers, and ordered men to remove me from me family. Is that what ye call protection?”
He nodded. “Yer faither will receive a formal contract.”
The sack had frightened her because it had taken her sight, leaving her helpless in the hands of strangers. The contract, on the other hand, frightened her in a different way.
Her father would have to choose between refusing a powerful laird and accepting the damage already done to her reputation. Who knew what would even happen when they found out that Daphne was missing and that she had taken her place.
“And do I have any say in this contract?” she asked.
“Ye may begin by tellin’ me what ye have concealed since ye were brought into this tent.”
Outside, a man called for the horses to be brought around. Another voice repeated the name Lady Daphne as orders passed between the guards. Every moment Ceana delayed allowed the lie to spread further.
She glanced at Lennan. “Before I tell ye, promise that what I say will remain inside this tent.”
Oscar folded his arms. “I willnae promise secrecy before I ken whether yer secret threatens me clan or me family.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Really?”
“Aye.”
“That’s where ye draw the line? Promises are impossible for ye, yet orders seem remarkably easy?”
“Speak, lass.” His voice remained low.
Ceana would almost have preferred a shout. Anger could be answered with anger, while his control left her with nothing to push against.
She looked toward the tent flap and thought of Daphne somewhere beyond the festival, perhaps riding south or hiding in a village where no one knew her name.
Confessing might send men after her. Silence would allow Oscar to announce a false match and turn her disappearance into a public war against Angus. Ceana had to pick the lesser evil.
“I am nae the woman ye think I am,” she eventually admitted.
Oscar’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
She forced the truth past the tightness in her throat. “I am nae Daphne.”
His faint amusement disappeared. He studied her face as if the mask might still conceal something, though it lay on the table behind her.
“Who are ye, then?”
“Ceana. Ceana Tulloch. Daphne is me sister.”
He turned fully toward her, his gaze moving over the dark green gown and the silver ribbons before settling on her face.
“We are twins,” Ceana continued. “Daphne has freckles across her cheeks and nose. The mask covered them, and everyone saw her clothes before they looked closely at the woman wearin’ them.”
Oscar’s expression revealed little. “Where is she?”
“I daenae ken.”
His jaw tightened. “Why do I nae believe that?”
“She fled last night,” Ceana said quickly. “I found her tent empty before dawn. She left no destination and no word of who had gone with her. The betrothal was meant to happen today, and I thought I could delay it long enough to buy her time.”
“By takin’ her place?”
“I wore her gown and mask. I allowed people to call me by her name. Nobody questioned it because they expected to see Daphne.”
The admission carried an old humiliation she had never spoken aloud. The guests had recognized Daphne’s colors, and the woman promised to Angus. No one had examined her closely enough to discover her beneath the mask.
Oscar moved nearer. “Why would yer sister flee a marriage yer faither arranged?”
“That is her truth to tell. All ye need to understand is that ye have taken the wrong woman.”
His gaze traveled over her face again, slower this time. Ceana resisted the urge to lower her eyes.
“Angus wanted Daphne,” she said. “The agreement concerns Daphne. Takin’ me gives ye nay leverage over him.”
The argument should have relieved her. Proving herself useless to Oscar was the surest path to freedom. Still, the word pressed upon every offer that had gone to her sister and every discussion of heirs that had ended when Ceana entered a room.
“Nay one intends to marry me,” she continued. “Nobody will care that ye stole me.”
Oscar looked at her as if the claim made less sense than the deception.
“What happens when Angus learns Daphne has fled?” she asked. “Yer message will make him believe she accepted another man before disappearin’. He may send people after her.”
“I will handle Angus.”
The certainty of his answer tempted her to believe him. Oscar possessed the power to make such a promise more than empty comfort, though he had also created the immediate danger.
Beyond the tent, harness buckles clinked, and wheels shifted across the uneven ground. The carriage preparations continued. He had heard the truth and had yet to cancel the order.
Ceana had destroyed his reason for taking her. All that remained was for him to acknowledge his mistake and let her go.
Because he had no use for her. Not even one bit.
Right?
Instead, he held her gaze while the carriage wheels rolled across the ground outside.
He had heard her confession, yet the men continued preparing to leave as though nothing had changed.
Lennan remained standing beside the tent entrance with the message for Angus still in his hand, waiting for an order.
“When did Daphne flee?” Oscar asked.
“Like I said earlier, me Laird, last night. I found her tent empty before dawn.”
“Did she take a horse?”
“I daenae ken. I told ye she left nay explanation.”
Oscar’s eyes narrowed. “Think carefully.”
“I have done little else since she disappeared.” Ceana kept her voice level, though frustration tightened her throat. “If I kent where she had gone, I would be searchin’ for her instead of standin’ inside yer tent.”
His attention shifted toward Lennan. Ceana expected him to cancel the carriage and destroy the message intended for Angus. Lennan seemed to expect the same.
Before either man moved, a rope creaked near the side of the tent. Tommy had wandered away from the adults. He had wrapped both hands around one of the taut support ropes and placed his boot against a fastening knot. With a determined pull, he lifted himself off the ground.
Ceana turned fully toward him. “Tommy.”
The boy glanced over his shoulder while keeping his weight on the rope. “The MacKane warriors climb the castle walls durin’ trainin’. Faither says I can learn when I am older.”
The rope strained beneath him. He had already climbed high enough that a fall would drive him onto one of the wooden stakes securing the tent. If he loosened the knot beneath his foot, half the canvas wall could collapse.
“Sweetness, come down,” Ceana coaxed. She kept her tone calm and crossed only far enough to stand beneath him. “That rope is holdin’ the tent. Ness will need ye uninjured durin’ the journey.”
Tommy looked toward Oscar. Every man inside the tent now watched him, and pride stiffened the boy’s small shoulders. Ceana expected an argument. Instead, he lowered one foot, found the ground, and released the rope.
The guards stopped moving. Lennan stared at Tommy, then at Ceana. Even Oscar’s expression shifted as his gaze settled on his son.
One of the men near the entrance muttered, “He never listens the first time.”
As Oscar turned his head, the guard closed his mouth and lowered his gaze to the floor.
Tommy came to Ceana with his hands folded before him. His pleased expression suggested he understood that he had done something worthy of notice, though she could not understand why several armed men seemed to think some ordinary obedience was a feat.
“What a good bairn,” she cooed.
She crouched and checked his palms for rope burns. The skin remained unmarked, and his knees showed no fresh scrapes. She gently pinched one cheek before releasing him.
“Ye arenae like yer faither at all.”
Tommy laughed.
Oscar’s eyes narrowed, though the faint twitch near his mouth left Ceana uncertain whether he had taken offense or not.
“I am like Faither,” Tommy declared. “I can climb almost as high as he can.”
“Then it is fortunate I stopped ye before ye got too high, is it nae?”
Tommy accepted that with a solemn nod. His attention then moved toward the activity outside, where a groom called for another horse to be brought around.
“Are ye comin’ with us?” he asked.
Ceana rose. “I expect to return to me family.”
“Ness needs ye. Her leg may hurt again.”
“Yer guards will find someone to examine her.”
Tommy looked to Oscar for confirmation.
The question should have been simple. Ceana had admitted the truth, and Oscar had lost any reason to carry her away. Lennan opened his mouth to speak, but Oscar silenced him with a glance.
“Hurry with the carriage,” he ordered.
The guards moved at once. One lifted a travel chest from beside the tent wall while another went outside. Lennan remained where he was, the unfinished message still held between his fingers. His eyes rested on Oscar almost like he knew better than to challenge him before the others.
Ceana stepped closer to Oscar. “Did ye hear anythin’ I told ye?”
“Aye.”
“Angus is expectin’ Daphne.”
“I ken.”
“I am Ceana. Takin’ me gives ye nay leverage over him.”
Oscar’s attention remained fixed on her. His gaze moved briefly to Tommy before returning to her face. Whatever he had seen when she called the boy down had altered something, though she could not determine what.
“So cancel the carriage,” she said. “Send me back to the Morrag tents and decide how ye intend to remedy the insult ye have already caused.”
Tommy moved closer and slipped his hand into hers. The gesture stirred the old ache beneath her ribs, but she kept her attention on his father.
Oscar looked at their joined hands, his expression unfathomable.
“Keepin’ me makes nay sense,” she continued. “Ye have nay quarrel with me. I cannae tell ye where Daphne has gone, and I cannae force Angus to speak about yer sister. Whatever ye believed ye could gain from this ended when I told ye me name.”
Oscar shifted slightly. “But then ye helped me son without kennin’ who he was.”
Ceana shrugged, letting a brief moment of silence pass. “His goat was trapped. Anyone would’ve done the same.”
“He wouldnae have listened to anyone, though.”
Tommy nodded as if the matter required no further explanation. “She asked nicely.”
Ceana looked at Oscar. “There. Yer mystery has been solved. May I leave now?”
Oscar moved toward her with the same purpose he had shown when ordering the carriage.
He stopped close enough to force her to tilt her head back, yet he kept his hands at his sides.
The lack of touch made his attention harder to dismiss.
He had learned she carried no political value and had chosen to keep her anyway.
Fear gathered differently now. She had understood the purpose of being mistaken for Daphne. She could not understand what this man wanted from her now.
“I wouldnae care if ye told me ye were the Queen of England,” he said.
Ceana tightened her fingers around Tommy’s small hand. “Yer plan has failed.”
Oscar regarded her with a calm that made the decision all the more alarming. “I can always come up with a new plan.”
She swallowed, watching him take a breath before he spoke again.
“But for now, I’m keepin’ ye.”