A Rake at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Four

by Barclay, Celeste

  “Do you really believe your father would choose a mon capable of beating his daughter? He would never allow it.”

  “Mama, you know I become that mon’s property the moment they sign the betrothal documents. Father will have no say in how any husband treats me. And I don’t have faith that my wellbeing is Father’s utmost concern.”

  “And what is?” Davina asked.

  “Whatever alliance he can create.”

  “Do you believe the alliance would last if a mon mistreated you? Don’t you trust your father a wee more than that?”

  “He may have never mistreated you, but you know that’s not the case with many men,” Cairstine offered a pointed look, but she would never say aloud the truth that Davina’s first husband often beat her to within an inch of her life.

  “O ye of little faith. And you claim to want a life of dedication to God, but you have no faith that the Holy Father or your own mortal father will see you protected.”

  “I don’t doubt that is what he would want, but it may not be in his control. He can’t control everyone, and certainly not all men. Some seek to harm women, no matter whose daughter a woman might be.” Cairstine forced away the bitterness she heard creeping into her voice. “Mama, please. I’m begging you. Please reason with Father and ask him not to make any rash decisions. I know Fenny is eager to secure her betrothal to Kennon, and I don’t want to stand in the way of that, but I won’t consent to marry anyone. At least try to sway him toward my taking the veil.”

  Davina inhaled deeply before nodding her head. The women let the topic die as they both turned to listen to a couple singing.

  Chapter Four

  Cairstine gazed at the pasture as her horse, Twinkle, galloped away from Fingal’s stallion, Fuamhaire, or Giant. Cairstine had agreed to allow Fuamhaire and Twinkle to mate. She’d felt sorry for the horse she’d had since she was a child. She’d named the horse for the mischievousness she’d been certain shone in the amber-colored steed’s eyes. She hadn’t been mistaken. She couldn’t keep from chuckling as Twinkle once more allowed Fuamhaire to nuzzle her before dashing away.

  She’s a worse flirt that I am. At least, in the end, she’ll accept that she doesn’t have a choice but to welcome the stallion’s intentions. She may be a broodmare, but I’ll never be.

  “It’s not as though she’ll suffer for it. Or at least not until she’s birthing her foal,” Fingal snickered as he came to stand beside Cairstine at the fence. Cairstine understood what Fingal referred to. She’d been at court long enough to have learned an impressive amount about what went on between men and women. She’d experienced lust on more than one occasion, but she’d always restrained herself before it went further than she could control. She understood coupling could be enjoyable for both partners, but she had no intention of gaining any firsthand knowledge. It made her stomach sour to think about it.

  “She’s a horse. She’s a mare. She’s meant to be bred, but that doesn’t mean every female is the same way.” Cairstine didn’t take her eyes off the horses as they continued their chase and retreat.

  “Cair, I don’t understand how you’re so certain any marriage you enter is certain to be a disaster.” Fingal shook his head but kept his eyes on the horses too. Cairstine knew Fingal held an interest in marrying her, but it was more to solidify his future as laird to Clan Grant. They were fond of one another, but she saw him more like a brother than a potential bedmate. She didn’t doubt he would be kind to her, but she also didn’t doubt he’d be unfaithful while insisting she remain in his bed until he sired a passel of children on her. She feared her father would betroth her to Fingal before the end of the sennight, if not before the end of the day.

  “Having bairns doesn’t interest me.” It was the boldest lie Cairstine had ever told, but she said it often. She would be thrilled if she could have children without having to marry and bed anyone. She wondered sometimes if she could suffer the indignity of intercourse if it meant she would have a family, but the visceral need to run whenever she thought of coupling told her motherhood didn’t suit her.

  “I don’t believe that. I think a patient husband could make you see otherwise,” Final persisted, but he opted to drop the topic when he caught sight of Cairstine’s withering glare.

  “If we aren’t certain before I depart that Twinkle will foal, I’ll have to return in a few months. I don’t want her traversing the mountain path once she’s too far along.”

  “You’re assuming you’ll be returning to court,” Fingal’s hushed tones made Cairstine’s stomach cramp. She feared her father had already decided, and now she waited for the axe to drop.

  “I must. I am still in the queen’s service. Until she dismisses me, I’m expected to return no matter what plans Father has. At the very least, I have my belongings to pack.” She knew she finished with a weak argument. A maid would pack her trunk, and her father would arrange for its return to Freuchie. Fingal’s frown told her she didn’t fool him.

  “Cair!” Cairstine turned toward her approaching sister as Fenella waved her over. With a last smile for Fingal, Cairstine joined her sister. “Father wants to see you in his solar.”

  “He isn’t wasting any time,” Cairstine complained. “I haven’t been home a day, and he’s ready to hand down my sentence.”

  “Cair, you make it sound like the end of the world. He’ll have chosen wisely for your sake and the clan’s.”

  The clan’s sake was what worried Cairstine. The Grants carried influence in the Highlands, and an alliance with them was highly desirable. Several clans would willingly pay a steep bride-price for the hand of the laird’s older daughter. Her father was miserly and would eagerly accept coin to fill the Grants’ coffers. Cairstine understood Edward’s judicious spending kept the people of her clan safe, warm, and well fed. She just loathed that it would be at her expense.

  “I will see soon enough,” Cairstine sighed as they reached the steps to the keep. The sisters turned as a rider passed through the gates.

  “It’s Kennon!” Fenella bubbled. “I wasn’t expecting him again so soon.”

  Cairstine watched as a reedy man with hair that stuck out in every direction approached. He was pleasant looking, but not what anyone would deem handsome. But Fenella’s excitement was genuine, and it pleased her to see Fenella had fallen for her suitor for more than just looks.

  “Lady Cairstine, Lady Fenella,” Kennon bowed over Cairstine’s hand, then Fenella’s. He held Fenella’s hand a moment longer than was appropriate. Cairstine didn’t miss how he squeezed her sister’s hand, or how their fingers trailed across each other’s palms before he released it. Their gazes heated before they both recalled they weren’t alone. It relieved Cairstine to witness their affection for one another, and she wished she could find love. But she was unwilling to accept the sacrifices that went along with that. She took a deep breath as the trio entered the keep. She commanded herself to stop dwelling on what she didn’t want and her disdain for marriage. She was boring herself with her repetitive thoughts, and they only made her wish her visit would end soon. This settled guilt in her heart as she wanted to spend time with her mother and sister just as much as they wished to spend time with her.

  “Don’t forget Father wishes to speak to you,” Fenella reminded Cairstine before the couple made their way to the dais, where a servant was bringing a platter of food and a mug of ale for Kennon.

  * * *

  “Cairstine, sit down!” Edward pounded his fist on his desk. “Not another word, lass.”

  Cairstine wisely snapped her mouth shut as her father seethed. She watched his nostrils pinch as he inhaled a calming breath. It was rare that her father lost his temper, believing God granted patience to those who reverently prayed. Cairstine would have to demonstrate some of that reverence if she was to convince her father that becoming a nun was her calling. Edward paced around the chamber, making a circuit around his desk, then the massive table that sat in the center of the chamber.

  “Y
ou will marry before the end of summer, Cairstine. That’s not negotiable. If you won’t accept any other suitor, I will marry you to Fingal. He’s hinted at his interest for years.”

  “He doesn’t care aboot me any more than he does Fenella. He just wants to ensure no one can claim the lairdship besides him.”

  “Cairstine, I warned you not to speak.” Edward’s face grew redder as he glowered at his daughter. “If you’re certain you can do better, then you have a moon to do so.”

  “A moon? It’ll take me the better part of a sennight to travel to court and then the same to return here. That gives me a fortnight to find an acceptable suitor.”

  “A fortnight is more than enough when you’ve had years at court to find someone and rejected countless men I’ve proposed.” Edward came to stand beside Cairstine, his face etched with dismay. “And you don’t seem to understand an order to remain silent. You’d do well to learn before your husband beats it into you.”

  Cairstine reared back, but there wasn’t enough space she could put between her father and her without falling off her chair. Her eyes shimmered with tears at her father’s threat. Being forced into anything by a man was what she feared most, and her father had just acknowledged her husband could do just that. While he’d subscribed to the mantra “spare the rod, spoil the child,” when she was younger, she’d never heard him advocate a beating. Her trembling must have been noticeable because Edward took a step back and shook his head.

  “You test my patience enough to not know what I’m saying. I’d never want a husband to harm you, but you will have to learn to submit.”

  Cairstine could only nod. The lump in her throat threatened to choke her. She willed herself not to cry, a skill she’d perfected during her early days at court.

  “When do I depart?” Cairstine whispered, but she already knew the answer.

  “In the morn.”

  Chapter Five

  Cairstine found herself mounting her horse in the predawn light once more. She’d been home for one full day before setting off for court. Her mother had pleaded with her father, but Davina held little sway over Edward once he made a decision. Fenella had crept into her bed last night, just as she had countless times when they were children. Fenella recounted how she and Kennon fell in love, and Cairstine admitted to herself that she was envious. A long life of loneliness stared her in the face regardless of whether she married or became a nun. Neither appealed, but it seemed the former was her fate.

  Fenella reached up to squeeze Cairstine’s hand once more as Fenella stood beside Cairstine and Twinkle. “I’m eager to meet whoever you marry.” Fenella chirped, and Cairstine smiled warmly despite not sharing Fenella’s excitement. “I can hardly wait for your return.”

  “I feel the same, Fenny. But this is the last time I’ll call Freuchie home. Just like when you marry Kennon, I’ll be moving away to a new clan and a new keep.” Cairstine gazed at the home she’d loved. The only other place she’d lived was Stirling Castle, and that had never felt like home. It had felt like somewhere she spent an extended visit. While she was more adventurous than either of her siblings, a new clan and home was an adventure she’d gladly pass up.

  “Take care, my sweet lassie,” Davina’s hand replaced Fenella’s in Cairstine’s grip. They’d said their goodbyes in the ladies’ solar before anyone else rose. Davina had done her best to reassure Cairstine that all would be well, but Cairstine knew her uncertainty had rubbed off on her mother.

  “Safe travels, Cairstine. May God be with you,” her father made the Sign of the Cross, but made no attempt to reach out to her. She expected nothing more, since she couldn’t remember her father ever showing any sign of affection to anyone. Cairstine plastered her courtly smile on her face as she spurred on her horse despite how her heart ached.

  As her horse crested the last hill before Freuchie Castle disappeared, Cairstine looked back over her shoulder, certain her family had left the bailey and begun their duties for the day as if Cairstine’s life wasn’t forever changing.

  “Ye seemed to have escaped the noose,” Bram muttered as he rode beside her.

  “But not for long. I have a moon to find a husband. I feared that meant a fortnight when I deducted travel time to and from Stirling, but Father relented and has granted me a full moon at court to find an acceptable groom.”

  “Do ye think ye can?” Bram wondered. Cairstine shot him a glance he’d seen many times. It was a warning not to ask unless he wanted her to divulge what she plotted and make him a coconspirator. “Lass, whatever ye’re thinking, wherever ye think to run away to, ye can let that fall out of yer pretty head. Yer father will drag ye out kicking and screaming, and the only one to suffer will be ye. Ye’d do better to search earnestly for a mon ye believe ye can be content with.”

  “How can you say that? You know why I can’t marry.”

  A clap of thunder cut short Bram’s chance to answer and was the only warning before a deluge began. Cairstine cursed her luck. Of course, the one day that I’m home the weather is perfect, but when I’m on the road, it’s fit for neither cats nor dogs. It figures.

  The remainder of the journey to Stirling was much like the first day. Cairstine huddled beneath two Grant plaids, but she feared she’d never be warm again. When Stirling Castle came into sight, she sighed, thinking about the blazing fire that would soon burn in her chamber. She would do her best to avoid anyone waylaying her, then spend the rest of the day hidden away, tucked into her bed with a hot brick at her feet.

  As she wound her way through the corridors of the castle, she ducked into more than one alcove to avoid conversation. She’d caught sight of the Gordon twins and Allyson, and not for the first time, she marveled at how handsome the twins were. Eoin’s gentleness had surprised her when they stepped out on the terrace the night before she left for Freuchie. A part of her had wished he’d try to kiss her; anything to distract her from her worries. But she’d appreciated that he hadn’t taken advantage of the situation and had instead listened. He’s not just a pretty face. Wonders will never cease.

  Cairstine watched as the trio disappeared into the Gordon suite before she dashed the rest of the way to the ladies’-in-waiting chambers. Her maid had already made it to the room, and a fire was glowing in the hearth. The woman assisted Cairstine with stripping off the sodden kirtle that clung to her arms, then she slipped into bed where she intended to remain until duty forced her to rise for Terce, the midmorning prayers. For the first time in weeks, Cairstine dropped into a deep sleep that wasn’t filled with nightmares of a faceless man chasing her.

  * * *

  Cairstine gripped Twinkle’s flanks as she urged her horse to run faster despite already being at a gallop. Her guards had spotted a man riding toward them, and when she glanced back, he was galloping at a breakneck pace. She and her guards had been standing at the crest of a ridge that looked out over a valley of bluebells. It was her favorite escape from court life when she couldn’t return home. She’d been musing that she no longer had a home, but a sound night’s sleep left her less discomfited by the thought. The time slipped away faster than she’d realized when Bram came to remind her that they needed to return to the keep if she was to be ready for the nooning. He’d taken her arm to assist her over the uneven path. The recent rain carved troughs that would have twisted her ankle if she stumbled in her long skirts.

  It was then that Bram noticed the man racing toward them. He’d vaulted Cairstine into the saddle and slapped Twinkle’s rump before leaping onto his own horse. Cairstine leaned over her mount’s withers as they barreled along a path that took them into the woods. Twinkle grew winded sooner than usual, and Cairstine wondered if Fuamhaire had impregnated her mare. Winding through the trees, they lost sight of their pursuer, and Cairstine prayed they could slow for her horse’s sake.

  “Halt!” A deep voice boomed, echoing off the tree trunks.

  Cairstine’s eyes snapped to the enormous man on an equally enormous steed. She squinted throu
gh the dim forest light and stared at the man, who brandished a claymore that had to be as long as she was tall. She squinted but couldn’t make out the man’s face.

  “We carry nay coin,” Bram called out.

  “But you do have a lady,” the man responded. Cairstine was certain she recognized the voice.

  “Eoin?” She attempted to get a better look by straining to peer between the guards in front of her. “Have you turned highwayman?”

  “Hardly, Lady Cairstine. That one,” Eoin pointed his sword at Bram. “Manhandled you. I could see that even from a distance. Are you hale?”

  “Manhandled me? Bram was the first person ever to help me into a saddle. He’s never manhandled me a day in my life. Why were you chasing us?”

  “It looked like they were kidnapping you.” Eoin’s expression eased into a sheepish grin. “I couldn’t see their plaids from a distance. When I spotted your party, your men were already mounted. You were standing alone, then I saw your guard take your elbow. From where I was, it looked as though he were pulling you along. Then when he tossed you onto the horse and sent it galloping, I feared they were making off with you.”

  “And you thought to stand up to four armed men?”

  “The odds were in my favor,” Eoin’s gloated.

  “Insufferable,” Cairstine muttered.

  “What’s that, my lady?” Eoin nudged his horse forward as he returned his sword to its sheath across his back.

  “I said you’re insufferable,” Cairstine called back.

  “I thought we’d agreed I’m incorrigible.”

  Cairstine’s eyes widened as her gaze swept the guardsmen who listened to the conversation. That one sentence made Eoin sound far too familiar with her. She shook her head. Despicable. I was right the first time. Cairstine recalled what she’d called Eoin the night they danced before she left for her all-too-brief stay at Freuchie.