“Storm warned ye,” said Onyx with a chuckle, taking a drink. “It’s no’ for the faint of heart.”
“That’s right,” said Ian, slapping Onyx on the back, gripping his tankard in his other hand. “After all, Dagger should ken more than anyone how strong the brew is. It knocked him on his arse, and people thought he died on his twentieth birthday.”
“I had twenty drams of it,” Onyx reminded him.
“Ye were flat on yer arse, so dinna deny it,” Aidan said with a chuckle.
“Och, stop all yer fussin’, ye three.” Kyla walked up, pushing her small body between the three big, burly Highlanders. “Ian, give me some of yer Mountain Magic. I’m parched.” She ripped the tankard out of his hand and downed the entire contents before handing the cup back to him. “Coira, are ye no’ goin to come over and meet yer husband-to-be?”
“You – you just drank that entire cup of . . . Mountain Magic?” Lance staggered a little and shook his head in disbelief. The potent brew was already making him dizzy. This girl was a small thing but yet acted as if she drank naught but water.
“I did,” she said. “I’ve been drinkin’ it with my brathair and these two since I was a wee lass.” She thunked her palms against Onyx and Ian’s chests.
“Excuse me, Chieftain,” said the priest, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. “It is gettin’ late, and I have another weddin’ early in the mornin’. Can we proceed with the ceremony now that the groom has finally arrived?”
“Aye. Everyone gather around,” said Storm. “It’s time for a weddin’.”
“I’ve never heard of a – a wedding in a tavern,” complained Lance. He blinked quite a few times and his words sounded a little slurred. It made Coira wonder if the Mountain Magic had affected him, but he was trying to act like it didn’t.
“This is where I got betrothed to my wife, Wren.” Storm called his wife to his side, putting his arm around her. “Isna that right, Wren? This place is special to us.”
“I suppose it is, in a way,” said Wren. “Coira, please, come join Sir Lance. It is time.”
“Effie,” said Coira, turning back to her sister. “I canna do this.” Panic filled her, and she felt as if she would swoon.
“Ye’ve got to, Coira.” Effie rubbed Coira’s back. “Come, let’s join them.” Effie led her forward, stopping next to Sir Lance.
“So . . . you are my – my . . .” Lance seemed to stop and think, not able to find the word he was looking for.
“She’s yer bride,” said Effie, pushing her forward.
“I’m sorry I’m not dressed for the occasion,” said Lance, brushing some dirt from his tunic.
“Aye, why are ye all dirty?” asked Aidan.
“And what took ye so long to get here?” added Ian, looking out for Coira as if she were his sister.
Lance took a step backward, trying to focus on the MadMen. “I’d be happy to tell you where I was. I was attaining a new castle for my bride.”
“Really,” said Storm. “Did ye lay siege to the castle?”
“Nay.” Lance shook his head. “I inherited it. We were cleaning it and getting it ready for my new wife.”
“See that,” whispered Effie. “He has secured a castle for yer weddin’.”
“Which castle?” asked Onyx curiously.
“Where is it?” Aidan chimed in.
“How big?” rattled off Ian.
“My laird, can we go ahead with the ceremony and talk about this later?” the priest asked Storm.
“Of course. Go ahead.” Storm nodded.
Coira’s head spun. Being in such a frenzy that this was happening to her, she barely remembered saying her vows. But before she knew it, the priest pronounced them married and Lance pulled her into his arms and slobbered a big kiss on her, nearly missing her mouth. Then he took his hand and slapped her on the rear in a playful manner.
Coira jumped back in surprise.
“Such a pretty wife.” Lance winked at her next. He smelled and tasted like Mountain Magic and was acting like a cur. She was sure now he was well in his cups from chugging down the whisky earlier.
“He’s soused,” Coira told her sister, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Zara came to join them.
“It’ll be fine,” said Effie, trying to calm her. “It is just the whisky makin’ him seem so . . . so . . .”
“Obnoxious?” asked Zara, eying the man up and down. “I don’t like this at all. Coira needs someone to watch out for her when she leaves with him.”
“Yes, I do,” said Coira, looking at Effie.
“Sister, ye ken I canna come with ye,” protested Effie. “I have a husband and children and a bairn on the way.” She touched her stomach.
“I suppose no’.” Coira hung her head.
“She might not be able to leave, but I can come with you, Coira,” suggested Zara.
“Would ye?” Coira looked up excitedly. “Zara, if ye were there with me, I am sure I would feel better about this whole situation.”
“Let’s go, Wife,” said Lance, putting his arm around Coira. If she wasn’t mistaken, it felt like he was using her to help him stand.
“I have a room here at the Horn and Hoof for ye and Coira to stay on yer weddin’ night,” offered Storm.
“Nay, but thank you just the same, Torm – Sorm – Storm!”
“Storm, I will be leaving with them, going along to serve as Coira’s handmaid if you don’t mind,” said Zara.
“I dinna mind if Sir de Selby doesna,” Storm answered.
“Fine, come along then,” he said, his eyes closing slightly. “Squire, where the hell are you?”
“I’m here my lord.” A young man about the same age as Coira ran up and stopped at Lance’s side.
“This is my quire, Jack,” said Lance.
“Squire. He meant to say squire,” said Jack, looking at his lord from the side of his eyes.
“So, Bride. Are you ready to head out to your new castle? I think you are going to like it. And the best part is that it’s on the border and you’ll still be living in Scotland after all.”
“Oh, I’d like that,” said Coira, feeling relieved to hear this.
“Where is the castle?” asked Effie. “What is it called?”
“I get a bad feeling about this,” mumbled Zara, shoving her deck of cards into her oversized travel bag that she slung over her shoulder.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” said Lance, smiling like a fool. “It is a castle that you are never going to forget. It’s called Liddel Castle. Have you heard of it before?”
Coira’s heart about stopped and a shiver ran up her spine. “L-Liddel Castle?” she asked, hoping she had misheard her new husband. After all, it couldn’t be the same castle where she was kept prisoner and almost died hanging in a cage.
“She’s heard of it, and she’s no’ goin’,” spat Effie, coming to her rescue.
“Effie,” warned Aidan. “Ye canna say that. Coira is the man’s wife now, and she has to go.”
“That’s right,” added Storm. “We made an alliance.”
“But no one told me where I’d be livin’.” Coira wished this was all naught but a dream.
“We didna ken about this,” Storm told her.
“No one did,” Lance added. “I just found out myself how lucky I was to have inherited it from my late Uncle Ralston.”
“Lord Ralston?” Coira’s blood froze in her veins remembering the man who had been her captor.
“Aye, did you know him?” asked Lance. “Lord Ralston the Bold, he was called.”
“Aye, we kent him though I wish we could say we didna.” Effie glared at him through narrowed eyes.
“Oh, I think I am feeling a bit ill.” Lance pounded his fist against his chest. “Perhaps, it was too much whisky on an empty stomach. Squire, load my wife’s things as well as her dowry into the back of the wagon.”
“Aye, milord,” said Jack.
“I think I will ride in the wagon so that I can hold
my wife in my arms.”
“More like so ye dinna pass out,” Effie mumbled under her breath.
“Effie,” said Zara, shooting her a look of warning.
“Effie, do somethin’, please,” begged Coira. “I canna go back to Liddel Castle. If I do, I will die.”
“You haven’t got a choice,” Zara told her. “But don’t worry, Coira, I will be there with you.”
“Come, Nora,” said Lance, putting one heavy arm over Coira’s shoulder while he headed to the door.
“My name is Coira,” she told him under her breath, glancing back in desperation once more, wondering how she had gotten into such an awful mess.
Chapter 3
Lance barely made it outside without falling over. He had tried his best to look sober while saying his vows because he didn’t want the Scots to laugh at him. That Mountain Magic was the strongest whisky he’d ever tasted in his life! He now regretted chugging it down so fast. Once his new wife’s things were loaded, he decided he wasn’t going to be able to mount his horse, let alone stay in the saddle in this condition. Why the hell had he let the bloody Scots give him that drink?
“Squire, make sure my horse gets back to the castle.” Lance sat down on the back of the wagon and took Coira’s hands in his. Had he really called her Nora earlier? It kind of slipped out. He knew her name, but it just came out wrong, that’s all. “Bride, join me in the wagon.” He pulled her to him and wanted to kiss her, but she looked away. “What’s the matter? Am I too ugly for you to look me in the eye?”
“Hrmph,” sniffed the gypsy woman from behind the girl. “Too drunk is more like it.”
“Why are you even here?” he asked the old woman.
“She is my handmaid and is comin’ with me.” Coira didn’t talk much, but when she did, he found he didn’t like what she had to say.
“Fine, then you drive the cart, Gypsy.”
“Me?” The woman gave him an evil stare. “Why should I?”
“Because I don’t want you in the back with my bride and me on our wedding night.” He might be well in his cups, but he didn’t miss the exchange of worried looks between his new wife and her handmaid.
“I think Coira wants me in back with her.” When the gypsy walked, he heard tiny bells tinkling. Or was that just from the whisky that made him feel heady?
“It’s that, or you stay behind,” he growled. “Your choice.”
The old woman let out a frustrated sigh and waddled over to climb into the driver’s seat of the wagon. “My name is Zara,” she spat.
“Zara? What kind of name is that?” He chuckled. “It is the silliest name I have ever heard in my life and holds no meaning whatsoever.”
“What about the name Lance?” his new wife boldly asked, surprising him yet again. “I happen to think that name holds no meanin’ either.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her hard. Instead of the soft, supple lips he expected, they were stiff and unmoving. He lifted her up and sat her next to him in the back of the wagon. Leaning over, he whispered in her ear. “That’s because you haven’t spent time with me in bed, yet. Once we consummate the marriage, I guarantee my name will hold all the meaning in the world.” He almost burst out laughing when her eyes opened wide, and so did her mouth.
The wagon jolted as the old gypsy directed the horse forward. When it moved, he fell to his back, looking up at the stars in the night sky. Why was the sky spinning and why did his head feel so foggy? Damn, it must be from that stinking Mountain Magic. He tried his hardest to stay awake, but his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and sleep overtook him before he could do anything to stop it.
“Zara,” called Coira from next to her new husband after he’d stopped talking and had lain still for the last hour. “Zara, do ye think he’s dead?”
Zara drove the cart down the road as they followed the procession of soldiers south. The lord’s squire and a few guards on horseback brought up the rear.
“We can only hope,” grumbled Zara. “Nay, Coira, I think he is unconscious from being a fool and chugging down a tankard of Mountain Magic like it was ale.”
“Guid.” Coira got to her feet, holding on to the sides of the wagon as she made her way over to Zara. “I hope he never wakes up.” She climbed over the sidewall and sat down on the driver’s bench next to Zara.
“Coira, the truth is, he is going to wake up. And when he does you will be expected to consummate the marriage with him.”
“I’m scared, Zara. It’s my first time.”
“There is nothing to it.” Zara patted Coira’s hand as she spoke. “Perhaps he isn’t as bad of a person as he seems right now. Mayhap things will get better in time.”
“He’s the nephew of the man who almost killed me. He’s my enemy! That is somethin’ that will never change.”
“Aye, there are some things that can be changed and others that cannot,” she said with a wise nod of her head. “But I want you to remember the card you chose tonight.”
“The blue rose,” said Coira, thinking of the card.
“That’s right, Child. That should tell you right there that enemies will turn into lovers.”
“But it’s just a card. It’s no’ real. There is no such thing as a blue rose.”
Zara turned her head and looked at Coira with a serious expression. “You may have never seen one, but I assure you they are real. They are very rare, and most people will never see one in their lifetime, but they do exist.”
“What are ye sayin’, Zara? How does that pertain to Lance and me?”
“I’m not sure.” Zara faced forward as she spoke. “All I know is that I’ve never seen anyone pull that card before in all the time I’ve been reading fortunes.”
“Is that a guid thing or a bad thing?” asked Coira, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.
“I don’t know the answer to that, Coira. But I do know one thing; if a blue rose blooms, it is complicated. Enemies will turn into lovers, but I can’t say what will happen along the way or how long it will take.”
“Zara, are ye sayin’ that this marriage might no’ be enjoyable?”
“I’m not saying that. I am only saying that it will be . . . unique and unpredictable.”
Chapter 4
Lance felt the earth shaking beneath him, and heard his squire’s voice calling out his name. He slowly opened one eye and then the other, having to use his hand to shade his face because a bright light almost blinded him.
“Hold that torch somewhere else, Jack. You are blinding me.”
“My lord, I don’t have a torch. That is the sun,” his squire informed him.
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s nighttime. There is no sun.” He pushed up to a sitting position to find himself sitting in the wagon in the courtyard of Liddel Castle. And to his astonishment, it was the middle of the day. “How did we get here so fast? Wait. Why is there sun?” He rubbed his aching head, trying to think.
“You’ve been asleep for nearly a day now,” Jack told him. “We weren’t able to wake you when we stopped for the night, and I’m surprised I was able to rouse you at all.”
“Argh, it was that blasted Mountain Magic. The stinking Scots tricked me into drinking it, knowing what it would do to me.” He swung his legs over the back of the open wagon, sitting on the edge.
“The Scots warned ye about the whisky. Do no’ blame yer reckless actions on them,” said Coira.
His head snapped around to see his new wife getting down from the front of the cart and helping her handmaid do the same. God’s eyes, he almost forgot he was now a married man.
He cleared his throat and stood up, still feeling dizzy. “Coira, how do you like your new home?” He stretched out his arm, proud of his new castle, thinking it would impress her. Instead, a shadow covered her face and she clung tightly to the arm of the old gypsy.
Coira looked up to see the walls of her prison from six years ago, and she immediately found herself living in the past. This is where she’d almost died. It w
as almost as if she could still hear the laughter of Lord Ralston and his men as they tortured her and Effie. This is the last place she ever wanted to be!
“Coira, your husband is talking to you,” said Zara, nudging her in the side.
“Zara, I canna live her,” she whispered, clamping her fingers around the old woman’s arm. “It’s as if I have stepped back in time. There are too many horrible memories within these walls.”
“Get a hold of yourself, Child. Leave the past in the past. This is your home now, and you need to make the best of it.” Zara pried Coira’s fingers from her arm.
“Wife, what is the matter?” Lance looked at her as if she were daft.
She jumped when he took her by the arm. When she glanced up at his face, her eyes played a trick on her. For a moment, she thought it was Lord Ralston coming to accost her.
“Nay! Leave me alone,” she cried, pulling out of his grip and backing away. Her heart pounded in her chest and sweat beaded her brow.
“Stop it,” Lance commanded, running a weary hand through his hair. “My head hurts like the devil, and I don’t need you acting all squirrely on me.”
“Perhaps if you’d ask her why she’s afraid, you’d understand, my lord,” said Zara.
“Afraid? Coira, are you afraid of me?” He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head.
“I . . . I . . . nay, my lord.” Coira lowered her head, feeling ashamed of her reaction. Still, her body shook with fear.
“I think what we all need is a good meal and a tankard of ale,” said Lance, yawning at the end of his sentence. “Come. We’ll go to the great hall.”
Coira let him lead her away, glancing back to Zara, silently begging her to follow and not leave her alone with the man.
“Go on, Coira. I’ll make sure our things get to our bedchamber.” Zara nodded and waved her hand through the air.
“Jack, take my wife’s things to my solar,” Lance called over his shoulder. “She’ll be staying with me now that we’re married.”
“But – but my handmaid,” said Coira, terrified of thinking of spending the night alone with the man. He was a stranger to her even though they were married. Coira’s head filled with all sorts of thoughts, every one of them being that she had made a mistake by agreeing to this alliance.
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