The Bride Chooses a Highlander

by Adrienne Basso

  Aiden whirled and slammed his fist against the table. “Aye, I’m a fool,” he said bitterly. “A fool to think ye would act with courage.”

  Lachlan clamped his teeth together so hard his jaw began to ache. “Ye go too far, Aiden.”

  “Do I?” Aiden ran his gaze scornfully over his brother.

  Lachlan shifted on his feet, feeling the tension of his brother’s bitterness. He was not surprised by Aiden’s arrogance, but he was annoyed by it. Dissension in the clan was dangerous and arguing would accomplish little except further upsetting his stepmother. He summoned control, revealing no expression.

  “We are all concerned about Robbie, but I cannae afford to let my emotions rule my head,” Lachlan said. “What happens if the McKennas decide to retaliate? What of our women and bairns? Who will protect them when the full wrath of the vengeful McKennas rains down upon us?”

  “That willnae happen,” Aiden declared, though his voice had lost some of its conviction.

  “Lachlan is right.” Lady Morag’s shoulders sagged. “Ye cannae place Robbie’s life above others.”

  While Lachlan appreciated his stepmother’s support and understanding, the victory felt hollow. The sadness in her eyes haunted him and prompted him to take some action.

  “To be fair, we should discover if this information about Robbie’s whereabouts is indeed true. It will set our minds at ease,” Lachlan decided. “Aiden, I give ye leave to travel south and seek the truth. But ye must not approach the McKenna nor any of his sons. Be stealth and discreet and return quickly.”

  His brother’s nostrils flared. He hesitated, then bowed his head in what appeared to be reluctant acceptance, but his hands were clenched into tight fists. Three of Aiden’s loyal men stood in fierce resolve at his side. At Aiden’s tense nod, they too bowed their heads respectfully before storming out of the great hall.

  Lady Morag broke into noisy sobs. Lachlan folded her into his arms, feeling helpless. The solace he offered her today was fleeting. No matter what Aiden discovered, he feared his stepmother was destined to shed many more tears.

  Chapter Three

  Laughter rang out at the feast in the Drummond great hall, celebrating the upcoming nuptials of Katherine and Hamish. The newly betrothed couple sat side by side on the dais, smiling and graciously accepting the good wishes and bawdy comments of the crowd.

  Katherine was pleased that her father and Laird Drummond were also in good spirits, for they had each looked a tad sour earlier when the marriage contracts had been signed. Their attitudes had worried Katherine, but her mother assured her that a show of temperament was the result of a good negotiation. Each had gotten some of what he had wanted, while relinquishing something he would have preferred to hold.

  Katherine had made the most of her time while waiting for the settlement to be reached. There had been two private meetings with Sir Hamish—Hamish, as he insisted she address him—filled with lively conversation but regretfully no kisses, even on the cheek or forehead.

  However, there was much to like about her future husband. The time she had spent with him—both alone and in the company of others—served to reassure Katherine that she had made the right decision about her marriage.

  From the women in the castle, Katherine had learned the history of the Drummond clan and the current workings of the household. Her mother was often with her, but had stayed in the background, allowing Katherine to take the lead. She had maintained her composure under the cautious, appraising stares and pointed questions the women had posed to her, understanding their keen interest.

  When she married Hamish, Katherine would become chatelaine of the castle and the highest-ranking woman in the clan. ’Twas natural that these women wished to learn more about her.

  “More venison stew, Katherine?”

  Turning at the sound of the familiar voice, Katherine abandoned her thoughts and smiled at her betrothed. She was feeling more at ease with him each day. Hamish had been considerate, but not overbearing during the meal, ensuring the choicest bits of meat were on her side of the trencher they shared. He had introduced her to more clan members than she could name and told her amusing stories about many of them.

  “Thank ye, Hamish, but I cannae swallow another morsel.”

  He refilled her wine goblet, then stood. “Excuse me. I must . . . uhm . . . that is, I need to . . . uhm . . .”

  Having seen how much ale Hamish consumed with the meal, Katherine knew exactly what he needed. Saving him further embarrassment, she nodded and he gratefully departed.

  Sipping from her wine goblet, Katherine admired her surroundings. The great hall was smaller than the one at McKenna Castle, but ’twas well-appointed and comfortable. Two large fireplaces gave off enough heat to warm the chamber, and the tapestries depicting the history of the clan that hung on the stone walls added color and warmth.

  The rushes were fresh; the dried herbs scattered among them gave off a pleasant scent. The ale and wine served were of good quality and so was the whiskey, judging by how many times her father had refilled his goblet.

  Of course, there were improvements to be made. Katherine noted that many of the servants’ garments were mended in places and the food, though plentiful, lacked the proper seasoning. She had already decided that these would be among the first changes she would undertake when she became mistress; no doubt others would soon follow.

  The remains of the meal were cleared and the tables pushed back to allow for entertainment and dancing. In the midst of the chaos and laughter, Katherine seized the moment to venture from the great hall. A few minutes respite from the noise and intensity of the celebration would be welcome, as she was unused to being the center of attention for such a long period of time.

  Hamish had not yet returned, making it easier for her to slip away unnoticed. Embroiled in the excitement of the feast, the energetic pages and giggling maidservants paid her no heed when she passed them. Katherine stood for a few minutes beneath an arrow-slit window, breathing in the fresh, crisp air, realizing for the first time how stuffy it had become in the great hall, which had been nearly filled to the rafters with clanspeople.

  Intent on extending her solitude, Katherine started following one of the passages. Spirits high, she allowed her mind to wander as she made her way through a maze of winding corridors, eventually finding herself in a deserted hallway, deep inside the castle.

  It was dark, with only a few lit torches fastened to the walls. They cast eerie shadows in front of her, giving off a sinister glow. Shaking off the sudden chill that ran down her spine, Katherine turned, intending to retrace her steps. But the corridors all looked the same and she soon found herself back where she started.

  A sudden noise made her jump. Startled, she turned, but saw only dancing shadows in the distance. Heart thumping in an erratic rhythm, she waited, nearly crying out when she heard it a second time. Animal sounds—or human? ’Twas impossible to tell.

  Taking slow, measured steps, Katherine moved toward the sounds. She rounded a corner, coming to a halt when she discovered a couple locked in an embrace. Shaking her head, Katherine smiled at her foolish imagination. ’Twas not the growling of a monster or beast hidden in this darkened hallway that had frightened her. ’Twas the moans of passion and delight from a pair of enthusiastic lovers.

  Katherine’s cheeks heated at the sight and she glanced away. In any other circumstance she would have discreetly taken her leave, but she needed assistance in finding her way back to the great hall and these two were the only people she had seen.

  Raising her chin, Katherine loudly cleared her throat. Oblivious to her presence, the couple deepened their kiss. Red-faced, Katherine glanced down at her feet, pondering her next move.

  ’Twould take a far louder noise to get their attention. Her lips curled into a smile when she recalled seeing the McKenna cook tossing a bucket of water on a pair of amorous hounds who had taken up residence at the open kitchen door. They had yelped and separated with nary a moment to
spare.

  Unfortunately, Katherine possessed neither a bucket nor a source to obtain water, nor the nerve to douse two adults with it. She was considering backing away and then stomping toward the couple when a flicker of torchlight revealed the deep blue wool tunic of the male lover.

  Katherine blinked. I know that garment.

  Blood rushed in her ears and her heart pounded as she drew closer.

  “Hamish?”

  The man lifted his head and she caught sight of his profile, confirming her worst fears. A high-pitched keening sound escaped from the back of her throat.

  Katherine’s breath came out in a short gasp and for an instant she thought she was going to throw up. Bending forward, she wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve, then straightened her shoulders and pulled herself to her full height.

  What are ye doing? ’Twas the first thought that sprang into her mind, and Katherine was relieved she had retained enough of her wits not to say it, as it was more than obvious what he was doing. “Hamish! Who is this woman?”

  At the sound of her loud voice, Hamish turned. His jaw slacked and his brows rose in surprise. The girl moved beyond him, gazing at Katherine in wide-eyed horror while clutching her hand to her breast.

  “Katherine!” Hamish looked nervously between the two females. “How did ye find yer way to this part of the castle? Are ye lost?”

  “Lost?” Katherine felt her face color. She stared unseeing into the distance, trying to understand the impossibility of what she had just witnessed. “Who is this woman?”

  Hamish’s eyes remained on Katherine’s face, yet he said nothing.

  “I am Fe . . . Fe . . . Fenella,” the young woman finally stammered, averting her eyes.

  “And what is yer relationship with my betrothed?” Katherine asked frostily.

  “She is a friend.” Hamish cleared his throat. “A boon companion. We’ve known each other since we were children.”

  Katherine raised her eyebrows. “I, too, have many childhood friends and I can assure ye, I dinnae bestow that kind of affection upon them.”

  Hamish rubbed his neck in discomfort. “We were saying farewell. Fenella is leaving in the morning to visit her mother’s people in the Lowlands.”

  “Why?” Katherine asked.

  “My father thought it best.”

  Katherine gasped. There was only one obvious reason a lass would be sent from her home. Katherine’s eyes fell to Fenella’s belly, but it appeared flat beneath her gown. “Does she carry yer babe? Is she yer leman?”

  “She is not!” Hamish’s brow contorted in offense. “Fenella is an honorable and chaste maiden. Her father was the captain of the Drummond guard fer many years.”

  “A soldier’s daughter.” Katherine gave them both a long, penetrating look. “Respectable, but not nearly high born enough to wed the laird’s heir. God’s teeth, Hamish, why did ye ever agree to our marriage when ye were in love with another woman?”

  Katherine clutched her clasped hands to her breasts as if this shield could somehow protect her from the hurt and betrayal that coursed through her veins.

  Hamish’s expression crumbled with misery. “I never believed ye would choose me. And when ye did, well, everyone was so pleased, especially my father. I know my duty to him and my clan and I’ll not selfishly forsake it fer my own happiness.”

  “Ye’ll sacrifice yerself and marry me?” Katherine’s voice rose as anger replaced surprise and hurt. “Aye, ye are truly a noble Highlander.”

  “I deserve yer contempt—and more. I’ve made a great mess of it all, Katherine. Fergive me.” Hamish bowed his head, looking so guilty and remorseful Katherine’s anger began to ease.

  She had long been told that love was an unpredictable and uncontrollable feeling. ’Twas not entirely Hamish’s fault that he felt such a strong emotion for Fenella. Though Katherine could—and did—blame him for being deceitful about it.

  She rubbed her hand vigorously across her eyes, then took several deep breaths to compose herself. Somehow she had to accept that fate had granted them a reprieve from a marriage that would strain to be pleasant and in all likelihood would lack trust, passion, and fulfillment.

  Judging by the way they clung to each other, Katherine felt certain Fenella would one day return from the Lowlands. And she knew she would not be a wife who simply turned a blind eye to her husband’s infidelity. That would be unbearable.

  Katherine told herself she should be grateful to have made this discovery now, while there was still time to rectify the situation. Her father would be angry and disappointed; her mother supportive, but also disappointed at the failure of an arrangement that had seemed so promising. The clan, too, would feel the sting of this failure, for it would be gossiped about throughout the Highlands in a most unflattering way.

  “In the morning we must inform our families that we have decided not to wed,” Katherine declared, her heart sinking as she uttered the words.

  “Nay!” Hamish’s face twisted with panic. “The contracts have been signed, the terms agreed upon. We shall be married at the end of the month, as planned.”

  Katherine shook her head vehemently. “The contracts can be torn up—or better still, burned. We both know that our union will bring us naught but misery.”

  “I had not realized that ye were such a romantic,” Hamish blurted out. “Few couples of our station marry fer love. The more practical elements of property, alliance, and advancement are considered.”

  “Aye,” Katherine agreed. “I dinnae expect to be gifted with yer love on our wedding day. But I had hoped fer the chance to someday be blessed with it.”

  “That remains a distinct possibility,” he insisted, taking a step closer.

  Fenella let out a gasp of pain and Hamish’s face instantly filled with contrition. His reaction was only more proof to Katherine that his heart was already taken and a marriage between them would never be more than a duty to him.

  “If ye lack the courage to break the contracts, then I will do it,” Katherine declared, swallowing hard to push back the sourness in her stomach. “One of us needs to be practical.”

  “I willnae break the contract. It will create a feud between the clans,” Hamish warned. “I’ll not be responsible fer the consequences.”

  Katherine’s confidence faltered. Clan wars had been started over less. Still, she would not sentence herself to a life of misery just to avoid the possibility of a conflict between their families.

  “My father will understand and thus in turn make certain yer father agrees with this decision,” she replied. “Ye know in yer heart this is what must be done.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. Hamish reached out and slowly dragged his knuckle down Katherine’s cheek. “I am sorry,” he said. “I hope one day ye will be able to fergive me.”

  Tears stung her eyes, but Katherine refused to let them fall. Her pride demanded that she remain dignified. She would not allow any man—least of all one who had played her false—to witness her pain and disappointment.

  “I bear ye no ill will, Hamish Drummond,” she said, forcing her voice to remain steady and even. “My only hope is that one day ye will have the courage to hold fast to the love that is within yer grasp. ’Tis a precious gift that should not be squandered.”

  She bowed her head gracefully before turning away. Hamish called to her. She ignored him, clinging fiercely to her self-respect. She was a McKenna; tenacious to the end when facing adversity.

  She mastered the strong urge to run, moving slowly down the corridor. Miraculously, she found her way to the staircase that led to her bedchamber. Her feet flew on the stone stairs and with a heavy sigh she pushed open the chamber door. There was a low fire burning in the grate, casting a soft glow of light on a section of the room.

  Her maidservant, Mary, rose from her pallet and approached, valiantly stifling a yawn.

  “Go back to sleep,” Katherine murmured. “I can attend myself.”

  After a slight hesitation, the mai
d obeyed. Katherine sat on the edge of the bed, staring ahead, yet seeing nothing. The sounds of music reached her ears and she realized her betrothal celebration was still going on. She covered her face with her hands, nearly laughing at the irony.

  As her confused emotions gradually receded, Katherine’s mind replayed the encounter with Hamish once, twice, and then a third time. Had she overreacted? He claimed to be ending the relationship, insisting it would not affect their marriage.

  Had she been too hasty, too impulsive in her decision? Were her expectations of Hamish too unreasonable? Few men came to their marriage beds as virgins, even while it was demanded of women. Was she asking too much of the man she had agreed to marry?

  Not going through with the wedding was going to create a difficult, unpleasant situation for her family; it could even affect future alliances for clan McKenna. Searching her heart, Katherine tried to find a less severe solution than rejecting Hamish outright.

  Alas, none was forthcoming.

  Groaning, she crossed the chamber and pulled aside the thick leather window covering. A gust of cold night air struck her full in the face and she breathed deeply.

  What an awful mess! She gazed at the silvery, moonlit horizon, trying to make sense of it all.

  “Perhaps I should consider taking the veil,” she muttered, taking small solace in believing such an act would at least save her family from ridicule and humiliation. Even if it would condemn her to a life she neither desired nor was suited to live.

  Hamish had made it very clear he considered their marriage contract binding—he would not ask for it to be dissolved.

  Nay, that burden—and blame—would fall to her.

  Katherine rubbed her hands up and down her arms, trying to warm herself, but the coldness she felt so keenly was buried deep in her heart. Drained, she plodded over to her bed. Not bothering to even loosen her gown, she lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, as if somehow the answers to this dilemma could be found in the rough wooden planks overhead.