Chapter 8
Ceana lunged across the garden path and caught Ness by the loose hide at her neck before the goat reached the lavender.
Oh, ye wee beast.
The animal planted her hooves in the earth and tugged backward, a leather strap hanging from her mouth. Tommy came charging after her with a wooden sword raised above his head. His boots struck the path hard enough to scatter gravel.
“Hold her, Ceana. She has stolen from a warrior.”
Ness jerked her head, but Ceana tightened her grip before the strap could slap her across the face. “A warrior should guard his possessions more carefully.”
“I was ambushed.”
Ceana sighed. “Ye tied it around yer waist and stood beside a hungry goat.”
“That is how she ambushed me.”
Paisley watched from a bench near the wall. Her sewing rested across her knees, forgotten for the moment. When Tommy tried to seize the strap and landed on his backside, her mouth curled into a quick smile.
Ceana freed the leather from Ness’s teeth. A small mark had been stamped near the buckle, the same mark she had seen on equipment in the training yard.
“Did yer faither give this to ye?”
Tommy pushed himself upright. “Nay.”
“Then it was the weapons master.”
His gaze moved toward the kitchen door. Ceana waited.
“I took it from beside the practice swords,” he admitted.
“Ye may return it yerself, or ye may ask a guard to go with ye.”
“I can return it.”
“Before dinner.”
Tommy accepted the strap with wounded dignity. He tucked it beneath his arm, then pursued Ness toward the lawn.
Paisley watched him go. “He used to wait until someone found what he had taken.”
“Then he is learnin’ to save everyone’s time.”
“Ye made him tell the truth.”
“He chose to tell it.” Ceana sat beside her and smoothed the skirt of her borrowed gown. “That part belongs to him now.”
A maid crossed the far path and greeted Ceana before stepping into the kitchen passage. Ceana knew now where the passage led. She also knew when the gardeners rested and which stairs Paisley used to avoid the crowded hall. The castle had begun to reveal its habits.
Within mere days, those habits might become hers.
Paisley drew her needle through the cloth. “Are ye happy to become Faither’s wife?”
Ceana looked toward the lawn. Tommy had fashioned the stolen strap into a lead for Ness and was attempting to march her in a circle. The memory of Oscar’s palm against her waist returned with enough clarity to warm her skin.
“I have scarcely had time to understand it,” she replied. “I am nae unhappy though, if that’s what ye are askin’.”
“I thought every lass wanted to be a wife.”
“Every lass is expected to become one. Wantin’ it is an entirely different thing.”
Paisley considered that while winding thread around one finger.
“I never expected anyone to choose me,” Ceana added, not really knowing why. “Nay one wanted me before.”
“That is foolish.” Paisley looked up at once. “Ye are very bonnie.”
The praise struck deeper than Ceana wished it to. Paisley had no reason to offer courtesy, and her solemn expression held no trace of flattery.
“Ye are kind.”
“I like ye.” The girl lowered her eyes again. “I like Tommy too, though I would deny it if he heard me.”
Ceana smiled. “I shall protect yer reputation.”
Paisley pushed the needle into the cloth without drawing it through. “’Tis why I daenae want another braither or sister.”
Ceana gave her time. The girl’s shoulders had drawn inward, as if she expected laughter.
“What do ye believe would happen if another child came?”
“Faither is busy already, and Tommy is the heir. If his new wife had her own bairn, she might decide there was nay place for me.”
The words her own bairn sounded borrowed. It immediately made Ceana’s smile falter.
“Did one of the other women say that?”
“One said she would give Faither more sons. Another spoke of her own son while Tommy and I were beside her.” Paisley pulled the needle through too sharply, puckering the fabric. “The last one said the council could give her son the same rights as Tommy.”
Ceana pictured a woman discussing a child who did not yet exist while Paisley sat within earshot. A new son could gather allies, and a daughter could be sent away quietly once she ceased to suit the household being built around her.
“What did Oscar do?”
“He ended the match. She left the next mornin’.” A flicker of satisfaction crossed Paisley’s face. “Faither was so angry that nay one dared ask her to stay for breakfast.”
Great. So it wasn’t only Tommy who had driven every woman away. Oscar had hidden the harder truth beneath a story that made his son sound impossible. He needed a wife who would join the family without dictating what could be taken from his children.
Ceana covered Paisley’s tense hand with her own. “While I have authority here, nay one will speak as though ye or Tommy belong to a life yer faither has left behind. This is yer home.”
“Do ye truly mean to stay?”
“I gave yer faither me word. I willnae vanish without explanation.”
Tommy ran back with grass on his sleeves while Ness bounded behind him. “Are ye speakin’ about me?”
“Only about troublesome goats,” Paisley said, reclaiming her hand before he could see.
Ceana turned to her, and they both laughed.
Oscar slowed down his walk beneath the garden arch.
Paisley sat close to Ceana, their shoulders nearly touching. Tommy stood before them, telling some elaborate tale with the strap from the training yard hanging from his fist. Ceana listened with an attention that made the boy’s nonsense appear worthy of record.
The memory of her in his arms had followed him through the morning rounds. Now his desire was growing around a whole other thought. He wanted to feel her warmth beneath his hand again. He wanted to return from every journey and find her seated with his children.
“Lady Ceana has done well with young Tommy,” the guard beside him said.
Oscar’s jaw tightened. “Watch the gate.”
The guard moved away at once.
The praise was harmless. However, for some reason, Oscar found that he disliked hearing another man admire anything about her.
Lennan approached before Oscar could cross into the garden, carrying two folded letters. Oscar recognized Muriel’s hand beneath the first letter, then glanced at the Morrag seal.
He opened David Tulloch’s letter first.
To Oscar Barr, Laird MacKane
My Laird,
Your message regarding my daughter has reached Morrag. My wife and I are relieved to learn that Ceana is unharmed and under your protection. We will leave for MacKane Castle at first light and expect to arrive as swiftly as the roads permit.
I will not pretend that the manner in which this match began sits well with me. Ceana is my daughter, and before vows are spoken, Heather and I must see her with our own eyes and hear from her own lips that she is willing. If she gives that assurance, I will not object to the marriage.
The failure of Daphne’s betrothal has left Clan Morrag in an uncertain position. Laird Gilmore is not a man whose displeasure may be dismissed, and I fear what his anger would cost my people. An alliance with Clan MacKane would provide protection that I would be a fool to undervalue.
Until we arrive, I trust Ceana will be treated with the honor due both her name and the place you intend her to hold.
David Tulloch, Laird Morrag.
Oscar turned away from Lennan before breaking the second seal.
Oscar,
Word has reached me that you have taken another betrothed. Is it true, or have you frightened some poor lass into remaining beside you until everyone decided it must be a courtship?
I hope she is stubborn. You have always needed someone willing to tell you when your grand plans are foolish.
This sounds very much like the carved horse in Father’s chamber.
You were certain you could make it leap from the mantel, broke its leg instead, then stood there glaring at it as though it had disobeyed you.
I claimed I had broken it and saved your hide from Father’s belt. Do you remember?
So, tell me the truth. Who is she, and what do Paisley and Tommy think of her? Their judgment may prove wiser than yours.
Try not to ruin matters before I receive your answer.
Muriel.
She was still alive. At least that was some news.
His grip creased the edge of the paper. She could send questions while leaving him unable to find her. Angus might still be directing what she wrote or using fear to keep her hidden.
“Is it bad news?” Lennan asked.
“Nothin’ we daenae already ken.”
Oscar refolded the letter and tucked it inside his coat, refusing to offer anything else. When he entered the garden, Tommy rushed toward him.
“Did ye bring me somethin’?”
“Aye.” Oscar drew a smooth black stone from his coat. “Ye may have it after returnin’ that strap.”
Tommy scowled.
Ceana rose from the bench, her eyes moving from her father’s letter to the place where Oscar had concealed Muriel’s letter.
“What has happened?” she asked.
“Yer parents are comin’. Once they arrive, there will be nay cause for delay.”
Her hand curled into a fist. “What does that mean?”
“When they have witnessed yer consent, and the arrangements are complete, we will marry.”
Ceana held his gaze. The near kiss remained between them, closer now than it had been beside the locked study door.
Strangely enough, she had no counter to his statement. He had prepared himself for her resistance, but her acceptance left him with no defense at all.
Worse, he hated that she hadn’t argued with him.
Later that evening, Ceana held the page flat with her thumb while Tommy fought sleep beside her.
His head had begun to sway toward her shoulder, though he lifted it whenever the warrior in the tale faced danger.
Paisley sat close enough to correct him each time he interrupted, and Oscar remained in the chair across from them, even though a sealed bundle of correspondence waited near his elbow.
“The warrior should cross the river,” Ceana read. “If he stays on the road, his enemies will see him.”
“He should fight them,” Tommy said, yawning. “Then he wouldnae need the river.”
“He is outnumbered.”