Chapter Four #2
And neither was I.
Was Kade Mackenzie handsome? I considered this.
Striking, aye. His hair was a dark, sable-brown—as opposed to his black-haired brothers: that was the first thing I had noticed about him.
His eyes, too, with their ice-blue clarity, spearing and direct.
And the jaunt of his movement, quick and athletic; more than once he had reminded me of a predator whose unpredictability would give him every advantage.
A man who might either save you or strike you down when you least expected it.
Maybe I just wasn’t used to him. Maybe he wasn’t as intimidating as I was imagining.
Perhaps I just wasn’t used to his abruptness, his size and power.
My father had little time to spare with all the leadership of the keep resting entirely on his shoulders.
He dined with his men and rarely visited our wing.
No other men were permitted into our quarters, and those that we mingled with throughout our days were strictly supervised.
My one private moment with Caleb—resulting in a rushed, featherlight kiss—had been a result of a bold excursion with Bonnie, for which I had later been severely punished.
I could acknowledge that there was a certain magnetism to Kade Mackenzie, somewhere in the complexity of him.
Those teasing hints of his appeal might shine through over time, and overtake the shadowy depths of his personality that I could not interpret.
In an attempt to ease my billowing anxiety, I tried to assure myself that my fear was unfounded.
But my hope was quickly eroded by my sisters’ continued discussion.
“At any rate,” Maisie began, and there was sympathy and a note of jealousy in her tone, if I was reading her correctly, “with him, I have a feeling you need to be prepared for the unexpected. No doubt about it, Stella. You’re in for a time of it.”
Agnes leaned forward, whispering, even though there was no one to overhear us. “Did I tell you what happened to Claire Buchanan’s cousin?” she said.
I hesitated, sensing that I might not want to hear what Agnes was about to share. Ann answered for me. “Nay, Agnes. What happened to Claire Buchanan’s cousin?”
“Well. I’m afraid it’s somewhat distressing, Stella. But I think you should hear it.”
“You never mentioned this before, Agnes,” said Maisie, her eagerness clearly detectable. “Do tell.”
Agnes paused, as though reconsidering. But then she continued. “I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up, but I think Stella should prepare herself.”
“For what?” asked Clementine.
“Well,” continued Agnes, with the undivided attention of all, “Kade Mackenzie attended a gathering at the Buchanan manor—this was half a year or so ago. Lottie told me all about it last time she visited their keep.”
We all knew that our cousin Lottie, in fact, had been issued not only an invitation to the Buchanan manor, but also a proposal by a lower-ranking nobleman of the Buchanan clan. My father, predictably, had denied the match outright.
“Claire’s cousin invited him to her private chambers—why I’ll never know. She allowed him...well, whatever he wanted. Claire’s cousin said he did unspeakable things. It took her several days to recover.”
“What do you mean ‘unspeakable’?” asked Maisie.
Agnes continued in hushed tones. “Apparently, she was completely overcome.”
“In what way?” It was my own hesitant question that lingered in the confined space.
Agnes took a moment to answer. “She said it was the most intense experience of her life.”
I couldn’t help asking it: “Intense?”
Agnes nodded. “She spent the whole night in a state of terrified ecstasy, according to Lottie. Those are the words she used, too, I remember it clearly—‘terrified ecstasy.’ She didn’t know what he was going to do from one moment to the next, but in the end, she begged him to do it all over again the very next night. ”
This was met with momentary silence.
“She begged him to do it again?” Ann asked, as though she was unsure if she’d heard it correctly.
“Aye,” said Agnes. “But he wouldn’t. She was so eager she even asked him to propose to her. But he refused, and he made his leave the next day.”
More silence, as we absorbed this disquieting information.
“What did he do to her?” asked Maisie, wildly intrigued as we all were. Me, perhaps most of all, as the carriage continued on its way, swallowing distance and divides, taking me ever closer to my fate.
“Claire’s cousin wouldn’t tell Lottie everything,” Agnes said, “but she did say this—he bound her to the bed.”
“Bound her?” I asked, my voice doing nothing to disguise my distress. “Why?”
“To constrain her. She was entirely at his mercy.”
“Good Lord,” whispered Ann.
“So he’s as domineering in the bedchambers as he is in the sparring ring,” said Maisie. “I guessed as much.”
Ann, who was sitting to my right, gave me a sudden hug, holding my head against her shoulder.
“Stella, ’tis worse than we feared. He’s as cruel as the worst rumors indicate.
We cannot let you go through with this. Between the seven of us, we might overpower the driver and Father’s officer.
Or you could pretend to be ill. We could ask to stop at the next tavern and escape somehow.
I’ll come with you. I’ll stay with you. You can’t marry Kade Mackenzie.
He sounds utterly horrific. Marriage to such a beast is too much to ask of you, alliance or no alliance. ”
“Agnes,” said Maisie, interrupting Ann’s fevered monologue, “are you sure Lottie said she asked him to propose to her? Even after he constrained her like that?”
Ann allowed me to sit up a little, but her arms remained strung loosely around me as we both waited for Agnes’s answer.
“Aye,” Agnes said. “Even though she was terrified of him, she said his lovemaking was akin to a spiritual experience. And then he left and wouldn’t return and she ended up marrying a Buchanan soldier.
But now she’s thoroughly unhappy. Her new husband doesn’t satisfy her.
Claire’s cousin—and you must never breathe a word of this to anyone—she even sent a letter to Kade, asking him to return to their keep for a visit, husband or no husband. But he never replied.”
I wasn’t sure how to take this mixed bag of information. A spiritual experience? What did that even mean? Was it that bad? Or that good? Clearly it must have been good if she had wanted him to stay and marry her, and still she wrote to him despite being wed to another. Yet it didn’t make sense.
She was entirely at his mercy.
I felt as though I might pass out. Extricating myself gently from Ann’s grasp, I pulled the heavy cloth curtain back from the window of the carriage, letting a current of fresh air waft around me, breathing the coolness deeply into my lungs.
“Stella,” said Agnes, placing her hand over mine, patting lightly. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but I thought, if it was me, I’d want to know what to expect. So I could prepare myself as best I could.”
“’Tis fine, Agnes,” I said, not feeling at all fine. About any of it.
“Well, it’s not exactly bad news, then, is it?” said Clementine. “If she wanted him to do...whatever it was he did, and the very next night, then surely it was—”
“But what exactly did she mean by ‘spiritual experience’?” interrupted Maisie.
“I mean, when Wilkie and I...” She faltered at the memory.
We were all well aware of Maisie’s tryst with Wilkie, having heard about many of the details repeatedly and in some depth.
“Well, I would describe it in similar terms. I felt changed by it, and not just physically. Perhaps they shared something. You should be careful, Stella. And mindful. ’Tis good that you mentioned it, Agnes.
Kade might stray with Claire Buchanan’s cousin.
You might have to go with him to any gatherings at the Buchanan manor. Just in case.”
That seemed the very least of my worries. In fact, I wished Kade had taken this Buchanan lass’s offer to marry her, so I could be done with Kade Mackenzie once and for all. I wanted nothing to do with terrified ecstasy or spiritual experiences, whatever those might be.
“Try not to think about it, Stella,” Ann said softly, holding one of my hands. “It’ll only upset you.” The rest of them seemed to sense this, too, and thankfully fell quiet.
If only I could choose my own lover, and one who didn’t intimidate me so. Or bind and ravage me.
I nearly gave in to the tears that stung the backs of my eyes as I thought of Caleb’s kind voice, his peaceful presence. That was the marriage bed I’d hoped for: one that was as nonthreatening as such a thing could be.
Instead, I looked out the window to see, perched on a hill in the shrinking distance, the grand and ominous Kinloch manor.