Chapter 7
The corridor outside Merith’s chambers lay quiet beneath the gray light of morning.
Rain had fallen sometime before dawn, leaving the windows clouded with mist and the stone floors carrying the faint chill of damp weather.
Somewhere farther below, Merith could hear the keep slowly waking as servants crossed the halls with baskets of bread and bundles of wood.
Shona stood near the hearth fastening the sleeves of one of Merith’s gowns while muttering beneath her breath about stubborn clasps and careless laundresses.
Merith sat before the small polished mirror brushing out her dark blonde hair, though her thoughts remained hopelessly elsewhere.
Locke’s chamber.
The memory alone sent warmth creeping uninvited into her cheeks.
She had scarcely slept after fleeing from him the previous day.
Every time she closed her eyes she saw him again, standing barefoot upon the rug-covered floor with damp curls falling across his forehead and water still glistening against scarred skin.
Worse still was remembering how near they had stood.
How easily his voice lowered whenever he teased her.
Merith pressed the brush harder through her hair.
“Ye’re smilin’ tae yerself again,” Shona observed without turning.
“I am not,” Merith replied quickly.
“Aye, ye are.” The maid grinned knowingly. “And unless ye’ve suddenly developed a fondness for cloudy weather, I suspect I ken the reason.”
Merith rose at once before further embarrassment could follow. “Please cease imagining nonsense.”
“Och, I imagine nothin’,” Shona said. “I merely notice things.”
“That is often worse.”
Shona laughed softly and finally turned toward her carrying the finished gown. “Well, whatever thoughts kept ye awake, they’ve made ye restless this mornin’.”
Merith accepted the dress with a sigh. “I only wish things would stop changing so quickly.”
“Change isnae always bad.”
True. Sometimes it was terrifying.
Before she could answer, a knock sounded at the chamber door. Shona crossed quickly to open it, revealing one of the younger castle servants standing there with lowered eyes and a folded parchment in hand.
“A message fer Lady Merith,” the girl said shyly. “Arrived this mornin’ from Donalson lands.”
At once Merith’s pulse leapt. “From my family?”
“Aye, my lady.”
Merith reached for the letter so quickly her fingers nearly trembled. The parchment bore her father’s seal pressed in dark green wax, slightly cracked from the long journey through rain and mud.
For what felt like the first time since arriving at Carnegie Keep, genuine happiness flooded through her chest.
“My thanks,” she said warmly.
The servant bobbed a quick curtsy before retreating down the corridor.
Shona smiled at once. “Well now, that explains the excitement.”
Merith barely heard her. She crossed swiftly toward the window where daylight filtered through the narrow opening and carefully broke the wax seal. The scent of smoke touched the parchment faintly beneath the dampness of travel.
Her smile faded slowly as she unfolded the letter. The handwriting belonged to her mother. It was uneven and hurried.
Merith’s eyes moved quickly across the page. Then stopped.
The warmth vanished from her body so suddenly it felt as though ice water had been poured down her spine.
“Nay,” she whispered.
Shona straightened immediately. “What is it?”
Merith read the lines again though they refused to change.
Fire. The late crops destroyed entirely.
Two storehouses burned. Sheep lost in the smoke. Debts mounting already before winter had even begun threatening the Highlands. Beneath it all, the desperate plea carefully hidden beneath her mother’s gentler words.
Murdoch Carnegie must become family soon.
Her hands began shaking.
“Merith?” Shona crossed the chamber quickly now. “What’s happened?”
Merith could scarcely force the words past the tightness in her throat. “There was a fire.”
Shona frowned. “At Donalson lands?”
She nodded weakly. “The crops are gone,” Merith whispered. “Nearly all of them.”
Shona took the letter from her hands in an effort to save her from her spiraling mind. Merith turned away before the maid could witness the tears already burning behind her eyes.
Outside the window, fog drifted slowly over the distant hills surrounding Carnegie Keep while cold wind rattled faintly against the stone.
In the courtyard men shouted over carts being unloaded near the stables.
The ordinary sounds of castle life continued untouched while her entire world tilted sideways.
“They need the marriage settled quickly,” she said hollowly. “The alliance. The dowry. Murdoch’s protection.”
Shona lowered the parchment slowly. “Och, lass…”
Merith pressed trembling fingers against her mouth.
All this time she had comforted herself with the thought that perhaps there remained time.
Time to understand Murdoch better. Time to quiet the anxiety she felt whenever he smiled too smoothly.
Time to sort through the dangerous confusion Locke stirred inside her whenever he merely looked at her.
Now suddenly there was none. Duty had arrived like a blade against her throat.
“I must marry him immediately,” she whispered. “There is no other choice now.”
Shona moved closer. “Ye dinnae ken that fer certain.”
“I dae.” Merith laughed weakly though the sound nearly broke apart. “If my family loses the land, everyone suffers. The tenants, the servants, and even my sisters.”
She thought suddenly of her youngest brother running laughing through the hills near their home while chasing sheepdogs through the heather.
Of her mother bent over embroidery beside the fire during winter evenings.
Of her father pretending not to limp after long rides though old injuries pained him terribly in cold weather.
How could she abandon them now? Tears spilled despite her efforts to stop them.
Shona touched her arm gently. “Come away from the chamber awhile.”
“I cannot let Murdoch see me like this,” she replied, gasping through her sob.
“Then we’ll walk where nobody bothers ye.”
Merith allowed herself to be guided from the room though she scarcely noticed the corridors they crossed. Her thoughts remained trapped upon the letter she had taken back from Shona and squeezed in her hand.
By the time Shona led her toward one of the smaller inner courtyards hidden between the keep walls, the rain had stopped entirely.
Damp ivy climbed the stone arches while water dripped from the rooftops overhead.
A narrow apple tree bent slightly beneath the weight of late fruit, and the scent of wet earth drifted in the cool air.
“I’ll wait near the archway, my lady,” Shona said quietly. “Take a moment tae breathe.”
Merith nodded absently.
Once alone, she sank slowly onto the low stone bench beside the courtyard wall.
The letter trembled in her lap. She read it again. Then again. Each time the words seemed crueler somehow.
We fear what winter may bring. The tenants grow anxious. Your father believes Laird Carnegie’s assistance will steady matters before worse damage is done. We pray you are settling comfortably.
Comfortably. Merith laughed bitterly through her tears.
A sound echoed suddenly from the archway.
“Well now,” came Locke’s familiar voice, “either someone’s died or Carnegie’s cook has attempted porridge again.”
Merith startled and hastily wiped at her cheeks.
Locke stepped into the courtyard carrying an apple in one hand and looking altogether too relaxed for a man who constantly unsettled her peace of mind.
Fresh bruises darkened his jaw from the fight, though somehow they only made his crooked smile more infuriating.
“Forgive me,” he said lightly, upon seeing the expression on her face. “I didnae realize the courtyard was occupied.”
“I shall leave,” she said without looking at him.
He frowned immediately at her voice. “Merith.”
She stood too quickly. “I am perfectly well.”
“Aye, and I’m the king o’ England.”
Despite everything, a weak breath of laughter escaped her.
“There she is,” he murmured softly. “I was wonderin’ where the sharp-tongued lass had gone.”
Merith turned away before he could see fresh tears gathering again. “Please leave me be.”
At once his expression changed. The humor vanished entirely. “What happened?” he asked quietly.
“Nothin’,” she said.
“Lady Merith.”
Something in his voice unraveled the last fragile thread of composure she possessed. She pressed one hand against her eyes helplessly.
Locke crossed the courtyard immediately. “Och, lass.”
She hated that he sounded genuinely concerned. Hated how much comfort rested inside that concern.
“My family sent word,” she managed. “There was a fire.”
His jaw tightened. “Are they harmed?”
“Nay. But the crops…” She swallowed painfully. “Everything is gone.”
Locke took the letter from her carefully when she offered it. Silence stretched while he read. Merith watched the shift in his expression as he reached the final lines.
When he looked back at her again, something dark flashed behind his eyes. “They want the weddin’ moved sooner.”
“Aye.”
“And what dae ye want?” he asked.
The question startled her.
“I…” Merith faltered. “It doesnae matter what I want.”
“Seems tae me it matters verra much,” Locke said, looking at her pointedly.
She shook her head. “Ye dinnae understand.”
“Then explain it tae me.”
Frustration flared suddenly through her grief. “My family needs this alliance. Murdoch has wealth, land, and protection. Without him they may lose everything.”
“And sae ye’ll chain yerself tae a man ye barely ken?” he asked.
“What choice have I?” Merith responded, shaking her head in disbelief of his easy tone.
“There’s always a choice,” he reminded her.
Merith could do nothing but stare at him. The certainty in his voice angered her almost instantly.
“Always?” she repeated sharply. “Spoken like a man who answers tae no one.”
Locke’s gaze hardened slightly. “That isnae fair.”
“Nay?” Emotion rose faster now, tangled hopelessly with fear and exhaustion. “My parents depend upon me. Tenants upon them. This marriage affects more than only myself.”
“And what happens tae you?” he demanded quietly.
The question seemed to shake her reality a little. “I shall endure,” she whispered.
Something fierce flashed briefly across his face. “That isnae livin’, Merith.”
She turned away from him again, wrapping her arms tightly around herself against the cold. “Ye speak as though duty means nothin’.”
“I speak as someone who’s seen what happens when people surrender their lives because others demand it,” he said, keeping his voice even.
She spun around to look at him. “Ye ken nothin’ about my family.”
Locke laughed once without humor. “Nay, but I ken enough about bein’ unwanted.”
The bitterness in his voice silenced her instantly. For several moments he said nothing more. Rainwater dripped somewhere beyond the courtyard wall while distant voices echoed faintly from the outer yard below.
Then Locke spoke again quietly.
“The last I saw of my mother,” he said, “was her back. She’d found a man who’d take her in. He wasnae takin’ me.”
Merith’s anger vanished at once. Locke’s eyes remained fixed somewhere beyond her shoulder rather than upon her face.
“I was seven,” he continued evenly. “Old enough tae understand why she was leavin’. Old enough tae mind that she never looked back.”
Her chest tightened painfully. “Locke…”
“So, forgive me if I find blind loyalty somewhat overrated,” he said.
There was no self-pity in those words. Somehow that made them worse.
Merith stepped closer without thinking. “I am sorry.”
He shrugged though tension still marked his shoulders. “Dinnae be. Most people survive disappointment eventually.”
The attempt at careless humor only deepened her ache. Softly, she said, “My parents arenae cruel people.”
“I didnae say they were,” Locke replied, watching her.
“They love me.”
“Aye.” He finally looked at her then. “But love shouldnae demand sacrifice until there’s nothin’ left of ye afterward.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks again. “I cannae abandon them.”
At once, Locke reached up and brushed one tear gently away with his thumb. The touch stunned her into stillness.
His hand remained against her face only briefly, roughened fingers warm against chilled skin. Then slowly he pulled her closer until her forehead rested lightly against his chest.
Merith should have stepped away immediately, but instead, she closed her eyes.
He smelled faintly of leather, cedar smoke, and the cold Highland air from outdoors. Beneath her cheek, his heartbeat remained steady and strong. One arm wrapped carefully around her shoulders while his other hand smoothed gently through her hair.
No one had held her like this in years. Not since childhood storms when her mother soothed frightened dreams beside the hearth.
“Just dinnae give up yer life for people who wouldnae dae the same,” he murmured quietly above her.
Merith lifted her face slowly. They stood impossibly close now. Locke’s blue eyes searched hers with an intensity that stole the breath from her lungs entirely. The courtyard seemed suddenly too small… and way too quiet.
Her pulse fluttered wildly when his gaze dropped toward her mouth.
Then slowly, he lowered his face toward hers. Merith could feel his breath against her skin. Another inch and his lips would touch hers. Every sensible thought scattered hopelessly.
Yet at the final moment fear rushed through her stronger than desire. Fear of what this meant. Fear of how easily she responded to him. Fear of betraying promises not yet spoken aloud but already binding her future tightly in place.
She pulled back quickly, making Locke freeze where he stood.
“You dinnae know them,” she whispered. “My family.”
Pain flickered across his face before the familiar guarded expression returned once more.
“And you dinnae know him,” he replied gently.
The reminder left her speechless. There was nothing she could say to win this debate.
Neither of them moved for a long time. Then Locke stepped backward entirely, distance falling coldly into place where warmth had been seconds earlier.
“I should go,” he said.
Merith opened her mouth though no words came. Locke offered her one final look, unreadable now beneath the crooked charm she had begun foolishly trusting too easily. Then he turned and disappeared through the courtyard archway without another word.
She remained standing alone beside the damp stone bench long after he had gone.