The Wrong Bride

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The Wrong Bride Page 25

by Gayle Callen


  But then Owen spoke. “I have another proposal, McCallum. I will marry your sister and seal the peace between our clans once and for all.”

  Riona gasped. Maggie went still, but she made no protest.

  Hugh glanced between them frowning. “My sister? What connection is there between ye?”

  “You were in England half the year, she was in Edinburgh,” Owen said. “We have spent time together once or twice, have we not, Maggie?”

  Her chin came up even as a revealing blush washed across her cheeks. But still she did not protest the idea of marriage between them.

  Hugh gave his sister a baffled stare. “Maggie, ignore his ridiculous idea. Ye don’t need to marry him. This is my disaster, and I will fix it.”

  “A marriage between our clans is all that’s necessary to make things right,” Owen said. “I will be satisfied with Maggie as my bride.”

  Now it was Cat’s turn to give her own brother a frown. “What is going on? You two knew each other that well?”

  Maggie didn’t answer.

  A knowing smile curved Owen’s lips, even as Hugh’s eyebrows lowered in an ominous frown.

  “Maggie, say yes,” Owen said, his voice rough at the edges. “You alone know what happened between us. Together, we can make a new contract, and our people can share this land again. Your brother and my cousin can be together; my sister need never fear marrying a man she’s never met. Of course, her dowry will be held for her future husband,” he said to Hugh in warning.

  “I have my own dowry, though it isn’t as large as Cat’s,” Riona added, and risked a glance at Hugh. For the first time, she felt a touch of hope.

  She could see he was torn between protecting his sister, and the chance that their love—and the contract—might be saved. But Riona could never be happy if she felt that Maggie was reluctant.

  Maggie was studying Owen as if he were a strange plant whose use she was trying to ascertain. Owen let her look her fill, confidence in his straight shoulders and the curve of one eyebrow as he awaited her decision.

  “I will marry you, Owen,” Maggie finally said, her voice cool, almost detached.

  Owen sheathed his sword with finality and even triumph. Riona wondered if he’d come here already prepared with this plan. Her cousin was a smart man. But he was also an earl, who could have married into another titled family.

  “There will be no marriage if I forbid it,” Hugh said angrily. He strode to his sister, taking her shoulders. “Maggie—”

  Maggie put her fingers against his mouth, and Riona could have sworn they trembled.

  “Hugh, I want to do this,” she said with quiet resolve. “Owen’s right—this will solve all the problems between our clans. I may not know him well, but I do know him. And for me to be able to bring about a peace that’s been absent for generations? I will feel such pride, Hugh.” She lowered her voice and spoke with even more solemnity. “And this feels right to me.”

  She emphasized the word “feels” in a way that seemed to relax Hugh.

  He cupped her face in one hand. “Ye’re sure.”

  At last, she allowed a small smile. “I’m sure. Let me do this, Hugh. I think Owen is right—it’s meant to be.”

  Owen’s smile faded a bit as he stared at Maggie, but he said nothing.

  Riona’s hope tried to soar, but she held it furled, fearful. “Maggie, are you certain?”

  Maggie turned, and her strange eyes glittered. “I’m certain. I’ve been waiting for my destiny to reveal itself—and now it has.”

  Owen rolled his eyes. “Enough of this nonsense, Maggie. I won’t hear any more of it.”

  “Oh, we will be discussing things,” Maggie said. Then she turned to her brother. “Hugh, may I have your permission to accept Owen’s romantic proposal?”

  Cat didn’t bother to hide her laughter.

  “Was I not romantic enough for you?” Owen asked, his triumphant smile returning. He took a step toward her as if he meant to prove his intentions.

  Riona saw Hugh stiffen, knew he held himself back.

  Maggie kissed her brother’s cheek. “This is what I want, Hugh,” she said in a low voice. “Let me have it.”

  Hugh nodded, but he didn’t look happy about it. “Ye have my permission,” he said quietly, enfolding her in a quick hug. “But if these negotiations don’t work out, he and I will have another discussion.”

  Maggie gave a small smile. “They’ll work out.”

  “Come here and speak with me, Maggie,” Owen said, turning his back and striding toward the edge of the bog.

  She followed him with an elegant, confident stride that said she was prepared to have her way, now that she’d accepted.

  Hugh turned to Cat and bowed. “Lady Catriona, I apologize for the wrong I’ve done ye, the dishonor I’ve brought to ye.”

  Cat eyed him speculatively. “I can feel no offense for something I didn’t even know about—something I didn’t want. Riona and I always talked about choosing our own husbands. If Riona willingly chooses you, then I am content, for I, too, will have the man of my own choice.”

  Riona thought her heart would burst with love and gratitude. She hugged her cousin hard. “I’ve missed you so! I thought I’d ruined everything between us.”

  “Oh, Riona, in some ways I envy you.” Cat broke the hug, then quickly added, “For your relationship, of course, not the man himself. But I do believe he is waiting to claim you.”

  Suddenly, Riona didn’t seem to be able to take a deep enough breath. Was this really happening? Could she have her own happiness?

  Hugh, Riona, and Cat waited silently as Maggie and Owen spoke privately. Owen practically stood over Maggie, he was so close. They didn’t touch or betray a yearning, but there was something there between them, something that must have been simmering a long time.

  Hugh seemed distracted by worry for his sister, and Riona understood. She still felt dazed herself. He didn’t bring up their marriage or their future.

  Only when Maggie at last turned away from Owen did Hugh say stiffly, “’Tis time to return to Larig Castle. We can discuss your wedding there.”

  Not our wedding, Riona realized with a start. But she knew he loved her—she could be patient.

  “Wait,” Maggie said. “Hugh, what will ye say to the clan about how we’ve changed the contract?”

  Without hesitation, he answered, “I will explain what happened, of course.”

  “No, you will not,” Riona said sharply.

  Everyone turned to look at her.

  “You may be their chief, Hugh, but they are only just beginning to know and trust you. You made mistakes in your youth, and I alone know how much you’ve changed.” As that came out of her mouth, she thought Maggie might protest, but the woman said nothing. “Since the clan does not yet know you as I and your family do, they don’t need to know the truth of what went on between us, as long as it solves the problems between the McCallums and the Duffs.”

  “Ye’re suggesting I lie?” Hugh asked stiffly.

  “How is it a lie that we want to be married, that we want a future together?” she asked with quiet certainty. “Why do they need to know the private details of how we came together?”

  “I never want my actions to make ye publicly shamed by what happened to ye,” Hugh admitted hoarsely.

  “It’s not about me, but the ability to lead your clan!”

  “Enough with the self-sacrificing attitude on both your parts,” Owen said with disgust. “Tell us the story and we shall all swear to it. We’ve all worked hard to make right what our fathers did. It needs to be finished.”

  Owen looked pointedly at Maggie, and though she met his eyes, she said nothing.

  “We can say part of the truth,” Hugh said quietly. “That the moment I saw you by the light of day, I was struck by your beauty and your courage.”

  She knew immediately the moment of which he spoke, when she’d emerged out of the coach by daylight and seen him for the first time, too. He
had changed her entire life—for the better—but she hadn’t known the truth that day. It was strange, yet gratifying, to know that the moment had changed him as well.

  “I had to have you for my own and I wouldn’t let the contract stand in the way,” he continued with fervor.

  Maggie smiled at her brother, tears in her eyes. “And that’s the truth, isn’t it? And between all of us, the best results have happened.”

  Riona answered Maggie’s smile with one of her own. “Just say that you knew who I was from the beginning—after all, I’d told you the truth, remember?”

  Hugh grimaced, and Owen shook his head.

  “’Tis done,” Hugh said. “I don’t care about myself, but I never want to shame ye again after everything I’ve put ye through.”

  “It was worth it,” Riona said quietly. She thought for a moment that Hugh would say more, but was disappointed when he turned away to the horses.

  AS they all approached Larig in mid afternoon, Riona stared upward at the magnificent castle with a new perspective. This was her home now—would be her home forever. Her eyes stung and she blinked them, not wanting to distract Hugh, who’d seemed overly sober and silent during the journey back. This didn’t make her nervous, as it once might have done. He’d confessed his love to her, and she trusted him.

  But she’d never told him of her own love, she realized. Was he concerned about her true feelings, now that they would be married? But she needed privacy to discuss this, and didn’t know when they’d have it.

  The guards didn’t recognize the new Earl of Aberfoyle, and Hugh announced him in a ringing voice. “You shall all show your respect and care for the earl,” he continued, “and treat him as my new relation.”

  The guards sent glances toward each other, but all bowed as they passed. Word seemed to spread from behind them and outward around the upper courtyard, where ghillies and gentlemen alike emerged from the barracks to stare. Owen rode straight in the saddle, unconcerned with anyone but Maggie. Riona caught him glancing at her frequently, but except for offering her water and oatcakes on the journey, they’d spoken little.

  Maggie’s usual cheerful expression was absent, as if she was mulling what she’d agreed to. But Riona knew the McCallums and honor, and knew Maggie had meant everything she said. Riona now understood what it was like to think you had to marry a stranger, and she could only hope that Maggie and Owen shared more of a history than Riona knew of.

  After handing over their horses to grooms—including Brendan, to whom Hugh gave his first smile of the day—they all ascended the stairs to the great hall on the first floor of the main towerhouse. Word must have already spread inside, for Mrs. Wallace was waiting there, and she stared at Owen with wide eyes, as if the devil himself had come to visit.

  Riona slid her arm within Cat’s, who looked nervous, and murmured, “Don’t worry, everyone here is wonderful and will treat you with respect.”

  Cat only nodded.

  “Is it strange to know you should have been mistress here?” Riona asked knowingly.

  Cat’s eyes widened. “You always did understand me too well.”

  They both chuckled, and the tension eased.

  “Mrs. Wallace,” Riona said, “please see to accommodations for the Earl of Aberfoyle and his sister.”

  Mrs. Wallace’s usual smile blossomed. “Of course. Lady Riona, would ye wish to accompany us?”

  Cat glanced at Riona in surprise at the honorific, then bit her lip to hide a smile. Riona looked to Hugh uncertainly.

  He nodded. “Go with them, Riona. Mrs. Wallace, when the ladies are settled, please return to speak with me. I have instructions for our feast this night.” He arched a brow at Riona. “Rest, my lady. I will take care of everything.”

  She felt that knot in her throat again, the exultation of being loved, being cared for. But . . . she wanted to go to him, beg him to tell her it would be all right, that he could get past the sacrifices they’d all made to end the feud between their clans.

  That evening, she chose her favorite new gown, a deep blue that parted down the front to reveal an embroidered stomacher and the lace of her petticoat. Mary stared at her with awe, and even Cat and Maggie, who came to be with her, seemed impressed.

  “I think you must be in love because you’re even more beautiful,” Cat said.

  Her voice had a wistfulness that surprised Riona. Her cousin had always been so independent, wanting to do as she pleased before having to settle into a man’s home. Riona only hoped that she could make Cat see that marriage wasn’t such a bad thing . . . if one could overlook the kidnapping part.

  The three women descended to the great hall, and Riona inhaled with shock. She’d never seen the large room decorated for such a feast, with colorful tapestries and banners on the wall, every torch lit, and at least a hundred people gathered. How had Hugh reached so many people in so little time? They’d all come for him, their chief.

  Hugh was standing with Owen on the dais, and they looked anything but at ease with each other. But the earl seemed to relax upon seeing Maggie, as if he’d been worried she might change her mind. He guided her to a seat beside him, and she gave him a polite smile. With a sigh, Riona turned away from them, knowing that she would help her future sister-in-law all she could.

  Hugh was looking down upon her with such seriousness that she felt a pang of worry. But the frown faded from his brow, and he bent over her hand.

  “Do ye trust me?” he whispered.

  He stared up at her with those gray eyes she’d once thought of as winter cold, but she now understood the thaw as if it were springtime between them, a time of beginnings.

  “I trust you with all my heart,” she answered quietly.

  And then he straightened, and still holding her hand, called for attention in a voice that wasn’t overly loud, but rang with command. Everyone went silent, as if they’d been waiting for this moment. Riona felt as if even breathing would disturb the pregnant stillness.

  “I’d like to introduce ye to my wife, Riona Duff.”

  There was a cheer, but it died away in confusion.

  “Aye, ye knew her as my betrothed, but I’ve taken her to wife in the ways of our ancestors, but this will be no trial marriage. We’ll have it blessed before the priest.”

  At last he smiled at Riona, and she gave him a tremulous smile in return. Whatever he said next, she knew it would be for the best.

  “But I tell ye this because Riona was not the bride I’d been promised since childhood. Her cousin Lady Catriona was.”

  He gestured to Cat, who blushed to the roots of her hair, but kept her chin high. Owen’s face was a mask of impassivity, but his eyes blazed as he stared at Hugh.

  In the hall, the dead silence had returned, along with sidelong looks of uneasiness. Riona knew that they were remembering the terms of the contract, and what its sundering would mean to them.

  Hugh took both her hands, and though he spoke to the hall, he looked only at her. “From the moment I saw Riona, I knew I had to have her to wife,” he said, his voice rough. “I felt a passion and a destiny that I could not deny. I did not forget the contract between our clans, but I knew that I would find a way to come to terms with Aberfoyle. While I did this, I kept the truth a secret from everyone, and I regret that it was necessary. Fear not, for the contract remains between our families. Lady Catriona will have her pick of husbands, a decision she welcomes making on her own.”

  Cat gave a real smile to Hugh for the first time, and Riona felt the last of her tension fade away.

  Hugh continued, “My sister, Maggie, will become the earl’s bride, and both of our marriages will heal the rift begun hundreds of years ago between McCallum and Duff.”

  The cheer at those words was deafening, and even Owen looked surprised. He glanced at Maggie, who met his gaze, and it held for so long, Riona had to look away, feeling as embarrassed as if she’d seen them kissing. She knew there wasn’t love there yet, but they had . . . something.


  Hugh lifted the cuach up high. “This whisky, the water of life, has also helped heal the past.” He took a long sip, then passed it to Owen, who didn’t hesitate to drink it.

  When the cup passed her, Riona took hold of it, to Hugh’s obvious surprise.

  “Ye don’t have to drink it, lass,” he murmured. “I remember how it tasted to ye.”

  “I’m your wife, Hugh McCallum, and I’ll do as I please.”

  Laughter spread out around her, and she took a sip—a tiny one—of the whisky. She nodded, holding her breath, trying not to cough as it burned down her throat.

  “That is good,” she said hoarsely, and passed it to Maggie.

  Hugh grinned and took her hand. “Come with me, Riona.”

  The redness from the whisky turned into a hot blush. “Hugh, we can’t leave yet,” she whispered.

  He chuckled. “Then come stand outside with me.”

  He led her through the crowd, and people briefly clasped her hand or wished them well. At last they were outside on the landing, where torches lit the castle, but the stairs still seemed to go down into darkness.

  But Hugh didn’t descend, only looked at her with searching eyes as the wind ruffled his dark hair.

  And then he dropped to one knee and reached for her hand. “Riona Duff, I did not properly ask ye to marry me yet. If ye would, accept my hand in marriage, and accept a place in my castle, and in my heart.”

  She didn’t believe she had more tears, but they came.

  He pressed his lips to her hand, then met her gaze. “I love ye, Riona, yet I don’t feel worthy of ye. I doubted your word though ye only ever spoke the truth. I focused on the needs of my clan rather than what I was doing to ye. I almost lost ye.” His voice grew husky. “That would have meant unbearable sadness to me. Ye’ve become the light in my heart, Riona, a love I never thought I could have, after my father took away all my choices. Say ye’ll marry me.” He paused, and his next words were hoarse. “Say ye love me, lass.”

 

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