by Terry Spear
His father chuckled. “Woo her? There’s plenty of time for that later…after ye’re wed.”
“Lest ye forget, that choice was to be my own!”
“Luthais, I told ye that I was proud to see ye considering this matter with the importance ye should, but ye know making an alliance with the Gunns would be in the best interest of the clan, and sooner rather than later. The more I thought about your words, the clearer they became. Your marriage would bring with it powerful allies. The MacKays and Gunns would be a force to be reckoned with. I couldnae let ye foul up our…er, your future.” He sat down and rested his arm on the desk.
“And there lies the truth to it all, Father.”
“I understand ye may be cross at me for—”
“Cross doesnae even begin to describe how I feel. Ye want me to make decisions for the clan, but how can I do that when ye make them for me at every turn?”
His father stiffened in the chair. “Ye are my son. Ye will learn there are things in life that ye must do even when ye donna want to do them. I must travel to Edinburgh every year, and ye know that isnae something I favor.”
“Ye go to Edinburgh because the king orders all the Highland lairds to attend court. I take my vows seriously, Father. Once I say them, there will be nay turning back. The choice was to be mine. The last I needed was my sire forcing me to the altar and choosing my bride. I am a man. Ye need to stop interfering in my life and worry about your own.”
His father’s mouth twitched with amusement. “And the last time I didnae interfere I believe there was a sheep and rope involved.”
Luthais rose to his feet in exasperation. “Is that all ye see? I will nae apologize for thinking that other issues have greater importance than sheep stealing and tupping. I want to know what ye said in the missive.”
“I merely told Laird Gunn that if his daughter hasnae chosen a suitor, my son wishes to be among them for consideration. And of course I mentioned that if ye took her to wife, the MacKays and Gunns would become powerful allies.”
Luthais couldn’t help himself when a growl escaped him. “So ye sealed my fate by a missive. Did ye ever think this would’ve been better had I approached Laird Gunn himself when I was ready and asked for his daughter’s hand in marriage?” When his father didn’t respond, Luthais spoke for him. “Of course nae.”
“While we wait for Laird Gunn’s response, why donna ye spend your time wooing the lass? That is what ye wanted, eh?”
“Donna make light of what ye did. I disagree with everything about this.”
His father rose and walked around the desk. “Aye, but ye will do what is expected of ye. Ye are a MacKay. I’d be proud for ye to take my place one day as laird.”
“And one day I promise ye that I will. But when will ye realize that we are two different men? We will nae see things the same way, and to think that we could is foolish. Ye are my father, but if ye do anything like that again, I swear that ye may nae live to see the morrow.”
Luthais walked to the stables, placing as much distance between himself and his sire as he possibly could. He loved his father, he truly did, but sometimes he felt like throttling the man. He supposed the feeling was mutual between any father and son. He opened the wooden door to the stables, and the smell of hay engulfed his senses.
“Would ye like me to saddle your mount?” asked one of the stable hands.
“I’m only going to brush him. Thank ye.”
Luthais picked up a brush from the bucket on the ground and opened the door to his mount’s stall. He swept the brush down the horse’s flank while pondering over Mistress Gunn. The kiss with her had stirred something within him that he hadn’t felt for a very long time. He wasn’t sure what, but he liked talking with her, and he certainly enjoyed touching her. He couldn’t help but wonder what she’d say when she found out she might be his wife.
***
Laird John Gunn gazed at his two nieces sitting across from him in his study. The younger one moved restlessly in her chair with her fingers tensed on her lap, and the older one was studying him intently. The two lasses were barely women and nothing but a necessary thorn in his side. Sorcha had never cared for the girls, and Marta only tolerated them out of respect for his brother.
He realized now that he should’ve given much more thought to his nieces’ existence before he’d taken care of the other pain-in-his-arse and his busybody wife two years ago. But his brother had rarely traveled with the girls. Any scheme would’ve been difficult to execute on Gunn lands. But now he had to deal with the scraps that remained of his brother’s legacy.
“I wanted to meet with ye both to discuss your future. As ye know, Sorcha has had many suitors, and I am trying to arrange a marriage for her. After my daughter is settled with her new husband, I will be making marriages for the both of ye as well.”
Anna paled, and Ceana sat forward, placing her hand on the desk. “Uncle John, Anna is but fifteen years old. I donna think we need to rush into—”
His eyes narrowed. “Who do ye think ye are to question my decisions? I am your uncle and your laird. Ye will show me respect.” Responding to the tone of his voice, his niece wisely removed her hand from the desk and sat back in the chair. He remembered his brother’s wife acting much the same… And then he thought back on how he’d ended her life.
***
When Ceana saw Anna’s pained expression, she had to speak her mind. She knew her sister as well as she knew herself. Anna loved Samuel. The thought of being forced to wed someone else would be her sister’s undoing. Ceana needed to make her uncle understand. She had to get him to see reason.
“Uncle John, I recognize how important ʼtis for ye to find Sorcha a husband, but Anna isnae yet ready to wed.”
His eyes grew amused. “She will wed when I say she’s ready to wed.”
Her sister’s eyes welled with tears. There had to be a way to get their uncle to change his mind, but the only option she could think of was telling the truth. “But Anna loves another.”
“Ceana!” Anna’s voice was laced with panic.
“What man does she love?” asked Uncle John.
Ceana gave her sister a look of encouragement. “Samuel,” whispered Anna. A heaviness centered in Ceana’s chest when Uncle John threw back his head and let out a great peal of laughter. Her sister was sobbing beside her.
“Samuel? I just told Sorcha the lad may be fair of face, but nay niece of mine will be marrying him.”
Although Ceana was disappointed by her uncle’s answer, she felt for the first time as if he cared about his nieces as much as he did his own daughter. “But what if Anna wanted to wed—”
“Sorcha will wed the MacKay’s son, and my nieces will nae be wed to men who will remain under my roof. I will find ye husbands, and ye will both be living far away from here. Edinburgh mayhap.” He stood. “I have more pressing concerns.”
He was about to walk out the door when Ceana murmured, “My father’s.”
Uncle John stopped mid-stride and turned around. “Pardon?”
“Ye said we will nae remain under your roof. ʼTis my father’s roof.” Her uncle closed the distance that was left between them and roughly pulled Ceana to her feet. Anna gasped, and Ceana’s breath caught in her lungs as her uncle painfully squeezed her arms.
His eyes darkened dangerously. “Ye overstep.”
“Uncle, please let go of my sister. I’ll wed—”
He released his grip and shoved Ceana away from him. “I’ve become a greater man than your father was or could ever be.” And with that, Uncle John stormed out the door.
Ceana turned, embracing Anna who was weeping aloud. Anna’s heart was breaking before Ceana’s eyes. Everything suddenly became clear. Her feelings had been right all along. She and Anna meant nothing to anyone since the death of their parents. Sorcha was all that was important in the world. For a moment, Ceana felt pity for Laird MacKay’s son. She’d have to ask Luthais what he thought of the man. But since the MacKay’s son st
ood among a long line of Sorcha’s waiting suitors, Ceana wouldn’t dwell on it any longer.
The man deserved to be left to his own demise for marrying her despicable cousin.
Chapter 7
Luthais didn’t even bother to ask the stable hand to saddle his mount. He often found that doing tasks himself distracted him from his ever-mounting frustration. All he did was toss and turn throughout the night because the future looked vague and shadowy. He prayed Mistress Gunn wasn’t angry with him and hoped she might meet him at the loch this morn. He wanted to explain his father’s eagerness in sending the missive to her father.
When the sound of pounding hoofbeats came through the gates, Luthais glanced over his shoulder and hesitated. The man wore a Gunn kilt, and his face was clouded with uneasiness. Luthais supposed he’d feel just as uncomfortable riding into the Gunn bailey alone. As Luthais approached the man, he found that his own palms were starting to sweat, especially since the contents of the message were unknown. But he knew what the subject was and that unsettled him.
“I’m delivering a message to Laird MacKay from the Gunn.”
“Give it to me and I will make certain my father gets it. I am Luthais MacKay.” He held up his hand.
“There’s nay need. I’m here now. I’ll take that.” His father approached Luthais from behind and took the missive from the man’s grasp.
Luthais watched the billowing dust that followed the messenger out the gates as the man fled as quickly as he’d arrived. When Luthais faced his father, the wax seal was already broken and his father was reading the note. His sire was smiling from ear to ear as he slapped the missive into Luthais’s hand.
“The Gunn has agreed to discuss the terms of your marriage to his daughter.”
Luthais wasn’t certain whether he should be terrified or feel relief that Mistress Gunn was to be his bride. “Aye, well, ye have done enough. From now on, I will handle this matter the way I see fit. Do ye understand? Ye arenae to be involved with my decisions. I will make my own.”
“Luthais…” His father slapped him on the shoulder. “Ye have found your bride. I couldnae be more proud of ye than I am right now. Ye’ve done as I asked.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Mount up. We ride to Laird Gunn’s.”
His father looked at him in surprise. “Now?”
“Aye, now. I want to speak with Mistress Gunn. I donna think it wise to fire my future wife’s ire before we are even wed. I’m sure I’ll be doing enough of that after I am her husband.”
***
Ceana broke her fast although she wanted nothing more than to stay in bed under the blankets and shut out the world beyond her bedchamber door. She’d spent the night on the parapet with Samuel and Anna, trying to convince them not to do anything foolish. After all, Sorcha was not yet wed, and there was still time to figure out what to do. Although Ceana knew her sister was in turmoil over thoughts of not being with Samuel, Ceana couldn’t overlook her own feelings. Even from her brief encounters with Luthais, a part of her had started to favor him. The idea of losing his companionship before she even had a chance to know him was not something she was amenable to.
Uncle John was quiet and wisely didn’t gaze in Ceana or Anna’s direction at the table. Since Aunt Marta and Sorcha were in yet another conversation about the wedding, Ceana made it a point not to listen. She was aware that the celebration would be no small affair because everything with respect to her cousin was extravagant. When she glanced at her sister, she noticed that Anna’s shoulders were rounded, her face was grim, and she was playing with the food on the trencher.
Ceana patted Anna’s thigh. “ʼTis going to be all right. Ye’ll see.”
Her sister nodded with a bleak expression on her face, and Ceana suddenly longed for her mother and father. How she wished she had some type of magic in her blood and could be transported back in time to the way it was before. What was wrong with her? She was starting to sound like Aunt Marta, of all things. But the truth was that she’d like nothing more than to be able to wipe away all the heartbreak and misery of the past two years.
When the meal was over, she walked through the courtyard to the stable. After her mount was saddled, she rode across the field to the loch as she’d done so many times before. She looked up at the gray skies and didn’t see any of Luthais’s hawks flying overhead. She hoped that wasn’t a sign that he wasn’t there to see her, especially after their private moment together.
She cleared the trees and dismounted. With the threat of storm clouds looming above, she hastily walked her horse toward the water’s edge. Luthais was nowhere in sight. She sighed, realizing her life had become nothing but a bitter battle of disappointments. Perhaps she’d offended him or done something wrong. She hoped that he realized she didn’t let just any man from the neighboring clan kiss her.
There was a loud clap of thunder, and time was running out. As she gazed around the loch one more time, the wind picked up and whipped her long hair into her face. She’d have to try to see him again soon.
Rain was pelting her face when she rode through the gates to the bailey. The stable hand greeted her, grabbing the reins of her horse as she dismounted. She didn’t waste any time dashing across the courtyard and into the great hall. As she shook the rain off her cloak, she realized it was yet another lovely day in the Highlands.
Aunt Marta, Sorcha, and Anna stood huddled in a corner. When Ceana approached them, she could hear joy bubbling in Sorcha’s laugh as well as shining in her eyes. Her smile even broadened with approval when she saw Ceana.
“Oh, Cousin. I can barely stand it any longer.” Sorcha gave Ceana a quick embrace and then released her. “Father is in his study now discussing my dowry with my future husband and his father. I cannae wait to meet him. From what I saw when he arrived, he’s verra handsome. Did ye hear? I’m to wed Laird MacKay’s son. Father is so proud that my marriage will bring with it an alliance with the MacKays.”
“Aye, I’ve heard. I hope ye two will be verra happy together.”
“Thank ye, Ceana. I hope ye mean that. I know we havenae always been friends, but mayhap ye can share this moment with me.”
“Ye’ll be a lovely bride, Sorcha.” No matter how hard Ceana tried, she couldn’t forget her cousin’s abominable behavior. Anna must have read her sister’s thoughts because she rubbed her hand over Ceana’s shoulder and gave her an encouraging smile.
A very large, red-haired man entered the great hall from the direction of her uncle’s study, and everyone in the room fell silent. The man was at least six and a half feet tall, a giant who looked ready to slaughter anything in his path. He gazed around the room as if he was deciding who to choose for his next victim. Oh, the irony of it all. Perhaps Ceana’s days would now be brighter, knowing that Sorcha’s venomous behavior would never be tolerated by such a man.
But the more Ceana studied the redheaded beast, the more something unsettled her. He looked vaguely familiar. Was he the same imposing man who had been at the loch? She thought he might be. If so, he was definitely not Laird MacKay’s son. He was a guard, the same as Luthais.
Uncle John and an older man with graying hair came into the great hall and spoke for a moment with the redheaded giant. Since the older gentleman wore the same tartan as Luthais, he had to be Laird MacKay. No sooner did she recognize that fact than her heart skipped a beat. Another man walked around the circle of men.
Luthais…
***
When Luthais and his father left Laird Gunn’s study, Luthais knew he’d made his father proud. How could he not? Not only was he able to negotiate his future wife’s dowry, but he and his father had made an alliance with the Gunns—something they’d thought would never come to fruition in either of their lifetimes.
He followed the men into the great hall, and Laird Gunn slapped him on the back. “Would ye like to meet my daughter?”
Luthais glanced over his shoulder and saw that the lovely enchantress had already spotted him. Her mouth was sl
ightly parted and her skin was pale. She needn’t worry because he wasn’t foolish enough to let anyone know of the times they’d met before. He had a strong desire to show her that the two of them would be all right together. In fact, everything was now perfect.
He gave a brief nod to Laird Gunn. “She is the most beautiful lass in the room. Please allow me the honor.” Mistress Gunn wore a cloak, and her hair was wet from the rain. He didn’t realize he was smiling. Perhaps she’d gone to the loch to find him, but he was here, arranging for her to be his wife. As he closed the distance between them, her eyes widened. He reached out and clutched her hand.
“Chan eil mi a’ tuigsinn,” she whispered. I don’t understand.
He gazed into her eyes and brushed a gentle kiss on the top of her hand. Everyone in the room gasped with excitement. “What is there to understand, Mistress Gunn?” He gave her a slight bow. “I am Luthais MacKay, and I am honored to make your acquaintance…as well as have ye for my wife.” An unidentifiable expression crossed her face, and tears welled in her eyes. He was about to question her further when some chit with brown, bouncing curls around her face stepped between them.
Luthais stood to his full height, and his eyes narrowed. He was unhappy with the intrusion.
“I am Sorcha Gunn. I am the one ye will be marrying. That is my cousin, Ceana.”
He took one step to the side and gave the woman he’d met at the loch an imploring look—the same woman with whom he’d shared a stolen kiss, an embrace. An unexplainable heaviness centered in his chest, and as casually as he could manage, Luthais said, “But ye’re the laird’s daughter.”
The bubbly Sorcha stepped between them again. “Ceana isnae the laird’s daughter. I am.”
Luthais was suddenly flanked by his father and Laird Gunn. “Is there something amiss? This is my lovely daughter, Sorcha.”
When Luthais didn’t respond, his father spoke for him. “Ye cannae blame the lad. He’s only taken with your daughter’s beauty and finds himself at a loss for words.”
