12. A Fabulous Announcement
A Fabulous Announcement
Easy does it, Niall. Ye can do this. I know ye can.
He drew in a deep, soothing breath, squaring his shoulders.
Peter had told him that a council meeting was being held without him. Perhaps somebody had been told to inform him, but most likely not. Perhaps Laird MacLeod had requested Kenneth to try to convince Niall to come, and Kenneth would have conveniently forgotten.
It didn’t matter. He was here now. Whatever was going on in that room with the lairds and his cousin, Niall intended to find out.
There were no councilors in there, no soldiers. Just three Lairds, Eamond and Kenneth. Even Lady Fraser had been sent away, although doubtless she’d hear every word of it from her husband later.
As he squared his shoulders and prepared to shove open the door and swagger in, he heard a single word that caught his attention.
“Her name is Catriona, aye?” Laird Fraser was saying. “The fourth one.”
Kenneth made a noise. He had such a distinctive snort.
“That lass is valuable. We’ll not just hand her over.”
“It was my lad who noticed the resemblance,” growled Laird Farrish. “He put two and two together.”
Niall ground his teeth. The secret was out, then. He should have known. If he could notice the resemblance between Isobel and Catriona, then so could others.
“We already have a MacAlpin lass,” Laird Fraser said, and Kenneth laughed aloud.
“Well, then, ye don’t need another. Everybody knows that Isobel is worth less to her father.”
“Enough, Kenneth,” Laird MacLeod said sharply. The room went quiet at his steely voice. “Don’t accuse the man of having favorites.”
“I didn’t mean that, Uncle,” Kenneth said placatingly.
“I only meant that since it’s now well known that Isobel is on the Frasers’ side and ready to marry Eamond here, there’s no value in her.
She’s practically yer daughter-in-law already, Laird Fraser.
Laird MacAlpin won’t try to get her back. She’s chosen her side.”
“She’s not my daughter-in-law yet,” Laird Fraser growled, voice low and angry. “Eamond’s not attached to her. There must be something ye will take for her.”
There was a moment of silence. Niall found that he was holding his breath. Swallowing, he splayed his hands out on the door, straining to hear his father’s voice.
“Kenneth,” Laird MacLeod said at last, voice faint. “I do not like this business. Where is my son?”
“Gone out, Uncle,” Kenneth said instantly. “I was told that his horse is gone from the stables. He must have gone for a ride.”
Liar, Niall thought, with a rush of fury.
He heard his father give a long, tired sigh.
“I see. Well, I am too tired. My head aches, and I cannot… cannot think. Ye will have to do my speaking for me, lad.”
“Aye, Uncle, I shall.”
He could almost hear the eagerness in Kenneth’s voice.
“Well?” Laird Farrish asked. “It can’t matter much to ye having her. We could offer more than Laird MacAlpin. Just name it, boy.”
“Now that is an offer I can argue with,” Kenneth murmured. A rhythmic drumming sound indicated that he was thumping his fingers on the table. “What do ye think?”
“Since ye are too eager, Laird Farrish, care to bargain over Isobel, too?” Eamond asked, sounding bored. “No coin, just give away some lands.”
Silence ticked away. A quiet grinding sound echoed from somewhere, and it took Niall a moment to understand that it was his teeth he could hear grinding together.
“So” Kenneth said at last. He turned to Laird Farrish. “What do ye say? Will ye offer coin or land for them? I’ll drop my price if I must.”
Niall placed his hands on the door and shoved.
The door flew back, crashing against the wall. Cries echoed from inside. Laird Farrish and Laird Fraser were on their feet at once, hands inching towards the knives at their belts.
A shadow fell over him, a movement out of the corner of his eye.
Niall smiled grimly.
“Alasdair Farrish. I wouldn’t risk it if I were ye.”
There was a taut moment of silence, then the shadow receded. He glanced over his shoulder to see Alasdair sinking back down onto his seat, a stool crammed right into the corner of the room.
“Get out,” Kenneth hissed, bouncing to his feet. “Ye aren’t wanted here.”
“Well, I wasn’t asked,” Niall shot back. “Out riding, am I? That’s a lie, cousin.”
Kenneth reddened, opening his mouth to argue. Before he could speak, however, Laird MacLeod reached out a trembling hand, resting it on his nephew’s arm.
“Let Niall stay,” he said quietly. “I am glad he is here. Come, Niall. Ye barged in for a reason. Speak.”
Niall nodded slowly, swallowing. “Aye, Father, I will. I’ll start by saying that I’ve overheard yer plans to sell out the MacAlpin lasses. I think it’s vile to treat human beings in that way.”
Kenneth had the grace to redden, but Laird Farrish only sneered.
“If ye think like that, ye will never make a decent laird, son. Sometimes, difficult choices must be made.”
“If ye say so. But I can tell ye now that ye cannot take Catriona.”
“I bet ye didn’t even know she was a MacAlpin,” Kenneth muttered.
Niall didn’t bother answering. Instead, he glanced from face to face, letting a slow, serene smile creep over his face.
“Ye might as well pack up and go, lads. There’ll be no trading Catriona MacAlpin off, not for anything.”
“Says who?” Kenneth snapped.
“Says her betrothed,” Niall responded sweetly.
Heavy silence fell while the men slowly puzzled out his meaning. Kenneth figured it out first, eyes widening. He let out a long, ragged breath and sat down heavily on his seat.
“Ye must be bloody joking,” he gasped.
“Wait a moment,” Laird Fraser stammered. “Ye cannot possibly mean…”
“That’s right,” Niall responded crisply. “Catriona and I are betrothed. She’s already mine.”
Laird Farrish spoke first.
“I didn’t come here to be insulted by this fool of a boy. Everyone knows ye will never be laird, Niall. Ye will be sorry for this day and for that fabulous announcement.”
Without another word, he stamped out of the room, calling for his horse as he went. Alasdair followed, silent as a shadow. Laird Fraser spluttered, whispering in Eamond’s ear and making wild, angry gestures.
At last, the man fell silent, fixing Niall with a cold stare.
“The thing about us Frasers is that we play the game cleverly,” he said coolly.
“We always stand on the winning side. And Laird Farrish is the winning side. Ye might imagine that ye have been very clever, boy, but that girl was the only bargaining chip ye had. Once yer father is dead, no other laird will respect this clan. Ye and yer cousin will tear it to pieces between ye, then we’ll step in and finish the rest. Who will have yer precious MacAlpin girl then? ”
Niall did not bother to respond, and Laird Fraser did not wait for a response either. He strode out of the room, and Eamond hurried after him.
Kenneth let out a strangled cry and hurled himself at Niall. He shoved him hard, and Niall staggered back a few steps.
“What have ye done?” he hissed. “What have ye done, Niall?”
“What I should have done a long time ago,” Niall snapped back.
“Ye have destroyed us.”
“I saved us from doing a terrible thing.”
“Ye will be sorry ye got in my way,” Kenneth seethed and barged past him, hurrying out of the room.
Niall glanced down at his father. The old man placed a shaking hand over his eyes.
“Father…”
“Leave me for a moment, son,” Laird MacLeod said wearily. “I need to think.”
Catriona glanced up from chopping carrots. Sukie was staring at her, eyes narrowed.
“Am I doing it wrong?”
Sukie wordlessly shook her head, and Catriona went back to chopping carrots. But she could still feel Sukie’s gaze burning into her and slowly raised her head once more.
“What?”
“I keep thinking,” Sukie said slowly, “how much that pretty wee Fraser lass reminded me of ye. And ye went ever so pale when ye saw her.”
The blood drained from Catriona’s face. “I don’t know what ye are talking about.”
Sukie sniffed. “Hmm. Well, it doesn’t matter. She’s leaving now, anyway.”
Catriona stiffened. “What?”
“Oh, aye. There was some huge kerfuffle. The negotiations broke down, apparently, and Lady Fraser dragged the lass out by her hair, just about. They’re crossing the courtyard now.”
Catriona dropped the knife. It bounced off the counter and clattered across the floor, the point narrowly missing her foot. With a strangled cry, she turned tail and raced across the kitchen. Sukie might have shouted something after her, but she barely heard it.
She burst out into the courtyard. Drizzling rain was falling, miserable and gray.
And there, sure enough, were the Fraser soldiers, lined up and ready to go.
Lady Fraser dragged Isobel by the arm towards the litter, whispering angrily in her ear.
Isobel was pulling back, trying in vain to twist free.
Laird Fraser was already in place at the head of the convoy, back straight and fury shimmering in his eyes. Whatever had happened, it was bad.
Eamond stamped towards the horse waiting for him at his father’s side, visibly seething.
“Eamond!” Isobel cried pleadingly. “Make her let me go. Let me talk to ye, just for a moment.”
The man turned to face her, disgust and contempt bubbling in his eyes.
“Shut up and get in the litter, woman,” he spat. Turning on his heel, he clambered onto the back of his horse without so much as a backward glance.
The horror on Isobel’s face was painful to watch. Taking advantage of her shock, Lady Fraser shoved her into the litter and clambered grimly in after her. The door was slammed shut, and the entire convoy began to move.
Panic surged through her.
No, no, no! Not Isobel! I’ve only just gotten her back again!
With a strangled cry, Catriona began to run towards the litter. She had no idea what she planned to do if she reached it. Open the door? Try and drag Isobel out?
Isobel probably won’t come.
“Isobel!” she cried, voice cracking. “Izzy!”
There was a brief commotion inside the litter, and then Isobel’s head appeared through the window. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her beautiful hair tangled.
“I’m sorry, Cat!” she cried back, voice hitching in her throat. “I’m so sorry!”
She disappeared quickly, as if somebody had seized her and pulled. The window slammed shut, and the litter and convoy rumbled through the gates.
Breathless, Catriona staggered to a halt, watching them disappear.
“Shame ye didn’t go with them,” remarked somebody behind her.
Flinching, Catriona turned slowly, blinking. A pair of maids stood there, each clutching a basket of eggs. One sneered at her.
“They’re yer kind, aren’t they?” she continued, wrinkling her nose.
“What on earth are ye talking about?” Catriona managed, bewildered.
The maids exchanged long looks.
“We know all about ye,” muttered the other. “Ye are a liar and a… and a hussy.”
Catriona recoiled. “What?”
“Mind yer words, lassies,” came a familiar deep voice.
All three of them flinched, turning to see Niall striding towards them. He gave a grim, mirthless smile, and the maids blushed hotly in unison, cringing away. He reached Catriona, and to her amazement, swung an arm around her shoulders.
“This is my bride-to-be, ye see,” he announced shortly. “Best treat with a wee bit more respect.”
One of the maids began to stutter an apology, but he lifted a finger, cutting her off mid-sentence.
“Because anybody who does not treat Lady Catriona with proper respect,” he said pleasantly, “will be answering to me.”
He glanced down at Catriona, and she stared back up at him.
This is a dream. This is some wild dream. I’m going to wake up to find that everything is as it was.
Instead of the world around her dissolving into mist and waking up in her bed, the gray, rainy courtyard remained resolutely the same.
With a shaking, half-cracked sob, Catriona ducked out from under Niall’s arm and ran at full tilt through the gates.
Have to get away, she thought dizzily. I have to get out of this place.