Highland Promise: The Daughters of Clan Drummond

by Marks, Stephanie

  Liam woke with a start, torn from a deep, dreamless slumber. He lurched up in bed as the echoes of a loud slamming door rang in his ears. Reaching for the sgian dubh he had hidden beneath his pillow before he had gone to sleep, his eyes scanned the room for danger. But even as his hand wrapped around the cool slender hilt of the short knife, he found himself staring into the astounded heart-shaped face of a beautiful young woman.

  “What are ye doing in my bedchamber?”

  Perhaps his brother had found a willing serving lass to entertain him for the night. If so, he was not in the mood for such games. All he wanted was to go back to sleep so that they could get out from under Laird Drummond’s roof and back on the road as early as possible.

  “I...” she began in a whisper, but her soft voice trailed off. Her wide eyes darted around the chamber, landing everywhere but on him, and in the low light he was able to see the color rise in her cheeks.

  It took him a moment to remember that he had gone to sleep in naught but his skin. The chamber had been stifling hot even though it was only late spring and he had chosen to sleep atop the bed clothes in an attempt to keep cool.

  Liam moved quickly and released the blade he held, grabbing the pillow instead and placed it upon his bare lap. If his nakedness was the cause of her obvious discomfort, then it was unlikely she had found her way to his room with the intent to bed him, but what other reason could there be for her to come to his chamber at such a late hour?

  “Ye did not answer my question, lass. Did my brother send ye to me?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I did not know anyone would be in here. Please forgive my intrusion. I'll take my leave immediately.”

  The apology came tumbling out of the young lass in a rush of words. She spun around to face the door, and stumbled slightly, tripping over her skirts in her haste. But once her back was fully turned to him she suddenly hesitated, her hand frozen as she reached out to take hold of the bar across the door.

  She looked back at him questioningly over her shoulder and to the door again, her mouth turned down in a frown, and deep lines creased her forehead as she bit her bottom lip.

  Even from across the room, the moon illuminated her face enough for Liam to see the shimmer of unshed tears beginning to gather in the girl’s eyes. She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath as though trying to convince herself not to cry, and that's when he noticed that she kept her hands up to her breast because she was trying to hold the torn pieces of her gown together.

  “Are ye well? Has something happened to ye?” He reached slowly for his shirt, which he had placed on the chair next to his bed, while trying to keep himself covered.

  “There was a man in the hallway. He attacked me—” Her voice cracked and Liam’s heart tugged at the sound. He wanted to go to her and comfort her somehow. But he doubted the girl would find much comfort in a man wearing only his shirt after what had just happened to her.

  Would that he had his brother’s gifted tongue. Iain would have known what to say to her to calm her and ease her fear.

  “Did he hurt ye? Force himself on ye, I mean?” He coughed, and looked around the room before his eyes were drawn back to her. This was not the kind of conversation he was used to having with a young women that he did not know, or one that he did know, for that matter.

  She shook her head and squared her shoulders, looking not away from him in shame, but meeting his gaze squarely. “No, I was able to get away. He tore my gown, no more than that. Though I'm afraid he might still be out there looking for me. I'm very sorry for the intrusion.”

  The color flushed more darkly in her cheeks, and she held herself tightly.

  Liam couldn’t help but be impressed with the young woman. Though obvious in her embarrassment about their state of undress, she clearly refused to be cowed by the events of the night. Most women would have been in hysterics had a strange man tried to force himself on them, but this lass seemed determined to keep her wits about her.

  He could not remember the last time he had spoken with such a practical woman, especially one as beautiful as she was. Those he had met that were as fair of face usually had naught but sea foam between their ears.

  Liam took in the way her honey-gold hair framed her face, and the gentle curves of her body beneath her ruined gown. He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling himself growing harder. He had not been with a woman in over a month, but his reaction to this young woman made him feel guilty. What kind of a man lusted after a lass that was in such obvious distress? While he may not have his brother’s charms, Liam was not a complete brute either. Although it would be near-impossible to convince her of that fact if he continued to stand there in naught but his shirt, as it would soon betray his ever-increasing condition.

  “Would ye mind turning ‘round a moment?” he asked her. “If ye let me get dressed I can go out and see if he is still there.” And the sooner he was able to get dressed the less likely he would embarrass the both of them with the chance of her catching sight of the state of him.

  “Oh, thank—”

  “WHERE IS SHE?”

  The young woman’s expression of gratitude was cut short by Laird Drummond’s booming voice echoing down the hallway.

  As Liam reached for his plaid, a heavy pounding thudded at the door.

  “Open the door MacDonell, I know she's in there. I demand ye open the door this instant before I kick it down. If ye’ve hurt her I swear I'll send yer sorry soul straight to the devil!”

  Liam cringed, his arm outstretched towards his plaid, but as the pounding continued against the door of his bedchamber he realized that he had no time to finish getting dressed.

  He crossed the room in a few long strides and placed a hand lightly on the young woman’s shoulder, maneuvering her out of the way. As he unbarred the door he saw that what little color she had left had drained from his late-night visitor’s face, and a feeling of dread settled over him.

  He had already offended Laird Drummond once that night. What new problems had this young woman brought with her?

  Liam unbarred the door, and started to open it, but the moment Laird Drummond saw his chance he shoved through it, knocking Liam back and out of his way. Even though Liam stood a few inches taller than the man, Laird Drummond was able to force himself into the room, strengthened by the depth of his fury.

  The Laird took one look at Liam wearing nothing but his shirt, and the torn gown on the young woman in his room and whirled on Liam in a thundering rage.

  “How dare ye MacDonell! Is this how ye think to repay my hospitality?”

  “Laid Drummond, please, I can explain.”

  “Oh, aye, ye’ll explain. Explain to me how ye could reject my offer to wed one of my daughters to ye, and then go and have yer way with my youngest!”

  The blood ran cold in Liam’s veins as his mind tried frantically to make sense of the words he was hearing. His youngest daughter? It could not be. God would not be so cruel as to play a game with him such as this.

  “No, Da!” the lass protested, but Liam hardly heard her.

  “I never touched her!” Liam shouted, outraged that the man would think to suggest he would be capable of such a thing.

  “Ye’d lie right to my face and dishonor my family under my own roof?” Laid Drummond seethed. “She was seen going into yer room. I have a witness! And now here I find her, with her gown torn while ye stand there as good as naked!”

  “I did not touch her!” Liam shouted. “I demand that ye produce this witness. Then they can tell ye the truth of the matter. That the lass’s gown was already ripped long before she entered here.”

  Catriona gasped and Liam saw that the color had flowed back into her cheeks, far from pale, they were now a deep flaming red.

  He winced, sorry for the carelessness of his words. He had not meant to humiliate her any more than she already was, but he refused to be accused of her ruin.

  Their raised voices had drawn a small crowd and now the hallway outside of
his bedchamber was full of people, witnesses to Laird Drummond’s accusations. It would not be long before word spread throughout the highlands that Laird Liam MacDonell had disgraced Laird Drummond’s youngest daughter.

  “Ye’ve shamed the girl, MacDonell and I demand that ye do right by her. The two of ye will be wed on the morrow.”

  Laird Drummond grabbed his daughter by the arm and pulled her roughly from Liam’s bedchamber, slamming the door behind them.

  Liam stood alone in the darkness, and the sudden silence in the room was almost deafening. He felt as though he had just been trampled by an entire herd of horses. Laird Drummond had made his accusations before witnesses, and demanded that Liam righted his supposed wrong. There was nothing that Liam could do. Honor dictated that he must marry the girl unless he wanted to leave her shamed.

  Seconds rolled by as his mind scrambled for a solution. There had to be a way out of this. Wed? He could not be wed! The very idea was beyond unthinkable. But no answer came, and he was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. His mind continued to reel as he climbed onto the bed and lay on his back, staring up at the cracks in the stones in the ceiling. He lay there, waiting for sleep to reclaim him and followed the lines in the stone and the patterns that they formed. It was only after some time had passed that it struck him, the pattern of his own night that he had been too caught off guard to see. Laird Drummond had achieved exactly what he had wanted. Liam would be marrying one of Drummond’s daughters after all.

  Liam sat up, and grabbed the nearest thing to him, an earthen jug of water, and hurled it against the wall, where it smashed into pieces, leaving water splashed down the wall and over the floor.

  His hands curled into fists as the fury rose within him. Laird Drummond and his angelic-faced daughter had played him for a fool.

  * * *

  “Da, please! Ye must listen to me!” Catriona begged as she hurried to try to keep up with her father’s determined strides. She tripped over the sagging hem of her gown as he pulled her down the hallway toward the bedchambers where she and her sisters slept, and struggled to stay on her feet rather than flat on her face in the middle of the hallway. Her father tugged on her arm and she winced in pain at his tight grip.

  “I’ll not hear another word about it, Catriona. The man has shamed ye and our family, and now I’ll be making sure he does right by ye. Ye’ll be married to The MacDonell tomorrow afternoon, and that’s my final word on it.”

  “But he did not touch me, I swear to ye! He did not lay a hand on me. There was another,” she tried to frantically to explain. “A drunk man in the hallway. He was not known to me, I had never set eyes on him before in my life, I am sure of it. He lunged at me and tore my dress, but no more. I was able to get away before he was able to harm me further, and it was to Laird MacDonell’s chamber I fled, though I didn’t know it to be occupied at the time.” Her father said nothing as he stormed down the hall toward her bedchamber.

  “Da, do ye understand? Why will ye not listen to me? I’m telling ye that I was attacked by someone else. This has all been a terrible mistake. Da, please! Do not make me do this. Do not make me marry the man. I dinna even know him, nor him me. This is not fair, Da, ye cannot blame him for the fault of another!”

  Laird Drummond turned sharply on his daughter and Catriona let out a short shriek as she stumbled, almost colliding with her father’s chest. He grabbed her tightly by the shoulders and backed her up against the wall, then pointed a long finger towards her face. She winced at the pain of his blunt fingertips digging into her skin but she dared not speak. She had never before seen her father so angry, and while he had always shown great affection for all three of his daughters, he had always doted on her a little more than her elder sisters.

  “Listen to me, lass, because I am only going to tell ye this once, understand?” His voice was low and menacing and Catriona nodded quickly, blinking back the unshed tears which burned in her eyes. “Ye were found alone in his room with the pair of ye in a state of undress. It does not matter if he touched ye or not, the damage is done. ‘Tis my own fault I suppose. I’ve let ye and yer sisters run wild through this castle for too long. Was my own selfishness, ’tis true. I love having ye and yer sisters near to me. But it’s time ye were wed, lass, and The MacDonell is a wealthy man. Ye’ll be well taken care of. So I’ll not have ye ruining this opportunity. Is that understood?”

  Catriona could do nothing but nod as her mind raced. Did her father not care at all that a man had tried to attack her? Would he just let him go free?

  “And the other man? Are ye going to look for the other man?” she whispered. “The one that truly attacked me?”

  “Hear me well, for I’ll only be saying it once. There was no other man.”

  Tears streamed silently down Catriona’s face as she let her father rush her the rest of the way to her bedchamber.

  Chapter 4

  Catriona stood at the large window of her bedchamber and gazed out across the broad expanse of gardens below. It was a beautiful spring day, with the bright shining sun a rare and welcome sight in the pale blue sky. A chorus of birds trilled outside her window, and her heart ached at their hopeful chirps. She longed for their sense of freedom. How sweet it would be to spread her wings and take flight. In a few short wingbeats, she would be far gone from here, forever free from what awaited her. She closed her eyes tilted her face up toward the sky, letting the sunshine warm her skin. She fought back the tears that threatened to fall.

  It was the perfect day. It was the kind of day she would very much have wished to be married on. Married to a man she loved and who loved her with his whole heart. But now that would never be.

  She turned from the window and stood in front of her two elder sisters, dressed in her finest gown. Her fingers nervously pleated the soft sky-blue fabric of the full skirt while she chewed on her bottom lip and wished the birds chirping away happily outside her window to the deepest pits of Hades.

  “I cannot do this,” she gasped. Her stomach was tangled in knots, and she was suddenly finding it harder and harder to breathe.

  “Ye dinna have a choice, Cat,” said Aileen. Her eldest sister circled her slowly and adjusted one of the flowers tucked into the intricate arrangement of tiny plaits pinned up in Catriona’s hair.

  “But I do not even know him. How can da expect me to marry someone that I do not even know?” Catriona wailed.

  “Stop it, Cat,” Aileen said tersely. “Ye knew this day would eventually come. And ye brought it on yerself by running around at all hours of the night. What were ye thinking coming back so late?”

  “Oh, leave her alone, Aileen!” said Brigid. She got up from the bed and took Catriona’s hand in her own, squeezing it reassuringly. “It is not as though Cat asked Laird MacDonell to ravish her. The man is obviously a brute. Can ye not see how scared our sister is? She’s as white as milk, and her hands are ice cold. How would ye like to be forced to wed a man that had shamed ye so?”

  Aileen scowled at Brigid but did not respond, continuing to fuss over Catriona’s gown and hair instead.

  Catriona opened her mouth but wavered. Da had forbade her from mentioning the happenings of the night before to anyone. Catriona and her sisters had never had secrets among themselves. They were not only sisters but best friends, and after today when would she see them again? She hated the idea of leaving them like this, especially with them believing a lie, and the worst about her. How could she possibly go off to start a life with a man she did not know under a cloud of scandal and shame? While there may be nothing she could do to quell the gossip among the rest of the clansmen, she did not have to live with her sisters believing the story their father was forcing her to tell.

  “He dinna ravish me,” she whispered.

  Aileen’s hands froze in Catriona’s hair, and Brigid eyed her shrewdly.

  “What do ye mean, Cat?” Brigid asked.

  “Laird MacDonell never laid a finger on me.” She lowered her gaze to the floor, unable
to meet their eyes. Just saying the words out loud filled her with shame. She was not the only one who would have to live with the scandal of people believing he was less than honorable.

  “He was a complete gentleman. I was attacked by a man in the hallway and ran into the nearest bedchamber to escape. I thought it would be empty, but Laird MacDonell was inside. He was just about to go out into the hall to ensure it was safe for me to make my way back to my chamber when Da showed up and demanded we be wed.”

  “Do ye know the man who attacked ye?” Brigid asked.

  “No, he was not familiar to me.”

  “Maybe he was one of MacDonell’s men?” said Aileen.

  “I dinna know. But he reeked of spirits.” Catriona clutched at the skirt of her gown. “I told Da what happened, but…” She trailed off. What could explain Da’s strange reaction to what happened to her?

  “But what?” Aileen encouraged her.

  “He dinna care. He said that The MacDonell was a rich man, and that I was not to speak about what happened and ruin this opportunity.” She shook her head. How could her da have demanded such a thing of her? “I was such a fool! I never should have lingered so long in Laird MacDonell’s chamber. I was just so scared, and now the man is being forced to marry me. I’ve ruined both his life and mine, and all because I fell asleep painting like a wee fool! He must hate me. This is all my fault!” Catriona burst into tears.

  Her sisters hugged her tightly as she cried, whispering soothing words of encouragement. But it did no good.

  “Aileen, ye dinna think?” asked Brigid as she wiped the tears from Catriona’s face.

  “Dinna be ridiculous, Brigid,” Aileen said, hushing her.

  “What is it?” asked Catriona.

  “Nothing,” said Brigid with a weak smile. “Pay no mind.”

  A look passed between her sisters that Catriona did not understand, but she was too weary to think on it for long.

  There was a knock at the door, and a moment later their father entered in his finery. The buttons on his coat were polished to a high shine, and a triumphant smile graced his freshly shaven face.