Page 32 of The Wrong Bride
She leaned against the ancient stone, pretending she was out of the way, and tried to understand him. He spoke to his men with conviction, as if he’d been born to rule. He was forceful and aggressive in his mannerisms, then demonstrating a technique with patience, even when one of the men was slow to learn.
What did his people see when they looked at him? Where had he been for ten years, hiding away from his father?
Then the man who’d first been his opponent clapped McCallum on the shoulder and suddenly pointed at her. She stiffened when McCallum looked up at her, and though they were separated by half a courtyard, she felt the pull of him, the awareness of what he wanted of her, of how he wanted her to submit. It was as if he kissed her even now, and everyone could see.
The men shared a laugh, and though McCallum raised a hand to her, he did not leave his training. She turned away and had to force herself not to run back to the safety of her bedroom—but really, it was his, wasn’t it? Everything she had, everything she did, was only because of him. She was as under his control as she’d been under parents’ control, like trading one prison for another. But then, she hadn’t exactly known it was a prison—she’d simply been a daughter without the means to set up her own household unless at her father’s whim.
Now? Now McCallum wanted to make her his wife, to give her her own household—her own castle! But it was all against her will, against the very contract he thought he was upholding. It was a terrible mess. When these people who now looked at her with confusion or skepticism discoveredthe truth, and perhaps lost the precious land they counted on for the whisky they sold—their expression would turn to betrayal and disgust.
She shuddered and hurried back toward the laird’s towerhouse.
CHAPTER 9
Hugh watched a moment too long after Riona ran away from the lower courtyard.
“Your bride doesn’t seem in a hurry to be with ye,” Alasdair taunted lightly.
Hugh eyed his foster brother. They hadn’t seen each other for years after fighting side by side at Sheriffmuir and the disastrous summer after Hugh’s recovery. Several years back, Alasdair had journeyed to Edinburgh for a family matter and contacted Hugh. They’d met at a coffee house, and it had been like they were lads again, away from the Highlands and the influence of their fathers.
But now that Hugh was back at Larig Castle, and been nominated as the chief? There was a change in Alasdair, too, almost a need to prove himself Hugh’s equal—when that had never been in doubt.
Hugh told himself to be patient, that it was onlyhis first day testing the preparedness of his gentlemen.
But the two men once closest to him, Dermot and Alasdair, had not granted him the reunion he’d hoped for. And the rest of the men?
He eyed them as they traded partners and prepared to test each other’s swords. In this time of uneasy peace, they were close enough to battle-ready for him not to complain. Since his father’s death, and the illness of the old man who’d been his war chief, Clan McCallum had gone without one. That was one of the first things Hugh intended to fix. Was Alasdair ready for such a position? He’d fought at Sheriffmuir with the clan, had roamed these hills outwitting Duffs and Campbells and Maclarens for more years than Hugh had. Could he do justice to the position? Hugh would have to discuss it with Dermot, he thought, grimacing at the prospect.
THOUGHRiona had meant to rush right to her bedroom and hide, she ended up pausing at the woman room to watch the skill of the local women with spinning wheel and loom. Some spoke English, and they seemed awed and excited to meet a woman who’d spent her life among the Sassenach. Riona answered questions, and ended up with needlework supplies to keep herself occupied, and a promise to return again. It all felt wrong. She didn’tbelong here; she wasn’t the bride McCallum was supposed to have, and these women would look at her with anger when they discovered the truth.
When she left them, she kept her head down and focused on following the corridor, wanting only to return to her room, when she almost ran right into Hugh’s foster brother, Alasdair. He didn’t see her as he remained poised in a doorway, as if looking at someone in the room beyond. Not wanting to disturb him—perhaps unwilling to face him—she retreated to where the corridor took a turn, trying to remember a different way back to her room.
“Dermot, ye don’t plan to train with Himself?” Alasdair asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
Riona’s head came up in surprise. Though she knew she should not eavesdrop, being kidnapped had made her willing to ignore propriety. Alasdair stepped within the room, and she was worried she’d no longer be able to hear any part of their conversation. After creeping back down the hall, she impulsively spilled the basket of skeins of thread and dropped to her knees to gather them. Alasdair chuckled, and she realized she’d missed Dermot’s response.
Alasdair said, “Surely ye cannot avoid the training yard forever.”
“I do not plan to,” Dermot said, his voice heavy with exasperation. “I just did not anticipate how difficult it would be when he returned.”
Riona held her breath.
“But he’s been elected by the clan,” Alasdair said, with some compassion in his voice. “Ye knew this day would come—we’ve known it our whole lives.”
“Aye, but I thought I’d be more certain of my place at his side, and instead, I found myself questioning all he’s done leading up to this moment, especially the time he’s spent away.”
“Dermot—”
“I know he represented us in Edinburgh and beyond,” Dermot said furiously. “I know what kind of man his father was—butwewere here dealing with the old chief, and Hugh was not. Just because he’s been elected our laird doesn’t prove to me that he deserves such an exalted position, that he’ll know what to do with it.”
“Dermot,” Alasdair began quietly, “ye cannot let people hear ye talking against him.”
“I’m not against him—I just need proof he’s worthy to be our chief, that he’s become a man we can trust, no longer the hotheaded lad who—” He broke off.
“’Tis not your place to control him,” Alasdair said. “Ye couldn’t then, and ye cannot try now.”
Riona thought she heard footsteps heading back toward the corridor, and she quickly picked up the last skein of thread and fled.
Only when she had her back against the closed door of her bedroom did she feel like she couldbreathe again and think about what she’d overheard and what it might mean for her. She wasn’t concerned with Hugh—he’d caused all his own recent problems and he would have to accept the consequences. Right now, it was all about her, and somehow finding a way to freedom. She’d never have her old life back—being kidnapped was more than enough ruination for a lady—but she didn’t want that life anyway. There had to be something more for her, and she wasn’t going to find it at Larig Castle in a forced marriage.
