Highlander's War 0f Clans (Scottish Medieval Historical Romance)
Page 14
He had not said whether the person he was sending was the groom. She narrowed her eyes at the tall man riding straight-backed into their compound, he had long hair falling to his shoulders and he was not shaved. A claymore strapped to his side. He resembled a soldier more than a lord. Was she to travel alone with him if he was not to be her husband?
“I’m not sure who he is,” she said softly. “I suspect we shall find out soon enough.”
“Can we go down tae meet him?” Ùna barely restrained herself from jumping up and down.
“We shall wait for him tae be announced and then we go. Have ye forgotten yer manners already?” Fiona gave her an admonishing glance even as the governess nodded approvingly.
“I’m sorry.” Ùna curled in on herself, suitably chastened. Fiona patted her on the head and then moved aside so that Aileen could pick her up and hold her in her lap, even though Ùna really was too old for that. Fiona kept watching the man as he alighted his horse with grace and strode to the door. He seemed quite sure of himself and Fiona found herself hoping that he would be her intended.
The butler came into the room to announce that they had a visitor.
“A Mr. Campbell to see ye Miss Fiona.”
“Where have ye put him?”
“In the conservatory...his boots are muddy.” He made a moue of distaste.
Fiona giggled. “Alrigh’ then. I shall go and see him.”
Jamesina immediately got to her feet. “I shall come with ye.”
Fiona was about to protest but then thought better of it. No need to be alone with the man in a way that might be misconstrued later. “Alrigh’ then, but only ye. The rest o’ ye, stay here with Miss MacKenzie.”
There was some grumbling in the room but her sisters were generally obedient and didn’t give her much trouble. She took a deep breath, leading the way to her conservatory, Jamesina at her heels. As they opened the door, the man, Mr. Campbell, swiveled around to face them, his blue eyes alert looking from one to the other.
“Which o’ ye is Miss Fiona Iseabail Douglass?” he rasped.
Fiona stiffened at his tone, which was icy and distant. Not the greeting one would hope for from a possible future husband. “I am Fiona. Pray tell, what is yer business here?”
“I am charged with collecting and delivering ye tae Laird Dunavar. He informed me that ye were expecting me.”
Fiona opened her mouth and closed it. From the way he spoke, it was as if she was merely a parcel to be shuttled from place to place. She did not like it at all.
“My uncle did write tae me. He said he would send someone tae bring me tae him. There was no talk o’ collecting or delivering.”
The man shrugged nonchalantly. “Whitevur words ye chuse tae use is fine wi’ me.”
Irritation bubbled through Fiona’s breast and her brow furrowed as she regarded him with annoyance. Such a vexing man! Looks could certainly be deceiving. He might look handsome and protective but he was just a rude oaf.
She turned sharply and sat on the bench, looking out into the garden as he slowly came towards them and sat across, blocking her view.
“So which one o’ you is the lassie to be delivered then?” he asked breezily.
Fiona narrowed her eyes at him. “I am.”
He looked at her and paused, but only for a moment. “Fine then. Get yer things together so we can get on the road.”
“What, now?” she gaped at him in stupefaction. “Ye only just got here.”
“Aye, and yer uncle is expecting ye in twa days. We have tae hurry.”
Fiona shook her head. “I dinnae understand. What’s the hurry?”
Mr. Campbell shrugged. “I dinnae ken. But I have my orders and I intend to carry them out so go and get your things together and let us go.”
Fiona blinked at him in surprise. It had been a long time since anyone had ordered her about in such a blatantly offensive manner. In fact, now that she thought about it, she could not recall anyone ever speaking to her in such a way.
“I beg yer pardon?” she squeaked.
“Ye heard me. Go now then.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Daylight’s a-wasting.”
Fiona exchanged shocked glances with Jamesina. Her sister cleared her throat. “Er excuse me sir, in this hoose we dinnae speak tae each other like tha’. I'll thank ye tae keep a civil tongue in yer head.”
Fiona stared at Jamesina, never having heard her speak to anyone in such a stern fashion. In that moment, she reminded Fiona poignantly of their mother. She nodded to show her agreement with Jamesina’s words, pursing her lips at the soldier. He seemed unimpressed.
“I wasnae aware that I was anything but polite.” He mockingly put his hand over his heart and bowed. “Forgive me if I offended. Now can we go?”
Fiona did not want to leave so fast. She wasn’t ready.
“Yer uncle said there was some urgency. I dinnae think it would be wise for ye tae delay,” Mr. Campbell added and Fiona’s brow furrowed in worry. If there was something that might affect her sisters she should probably find out what it was as soon as possible. She heaved a sigh of resignation and turned to her sister. “Come Jamesina. Help me tae pack and tell the others.” She flicked a glance at the soldier and said curtly, “Wait here.”
He nodded once and turned away towards the window. Fiona shook her head, took hold of Jamesina’s hand, and left the room. As soon as they had reached her bedchamber, Jamesina turned on her with wide eyes. “Ye’re nae leaving here wi’ that man alone. I’m coming wi’ ye.”
“Of course I’m nae leaving wi’ him alone! But ye need tae stay here wi’ the lassies. I’ll take Julieta with me.”
“Yer lady’s maid? What use will she be tae ye?”
“She’ll be a companion and a chaperone. I do not think Uncle Donnchadh would send someone who would harm me. He is here to protect me on my journey.”
Jamesina sighed. “I’ll follow yer lead but if’n I dinnae hear from ye in five days I shall come tae Dunavar tae get ye.”
Fiona grinned. “I shall expect nothing less.”
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