Page 8 of To Wed a Witch
"No, Da.Dinnae try to sweeten this bitter draught."She looked up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears."When is this...this wedding to take place?"
"The wedding and handfasting will be in three days' time.Laird Ferguson wishes to return to his own lands before the weather turns."
Three days.Three days to say farewell to all she loved.Three days before she became the property of a man who saw her as nothing more than a solution to his financial woes.
"I'll need time to gather my things," she said dully."My healing supplies, my preserving equipment.If I'm to live in some foreign keep, I'll want familiar tools around me."
Relief flickered across her father's weathered face."Of course.Take whatever ye need."
What she needed was choice.What she needed was a man who would love her as she was...all of her.
What she was getting was Bhaltair Ferguson and his empty coffers.It would not do.Sìne began to plan.She was not going to sit by and watch her life be dictated to her for the sake of coin.
***
BELOW STAIRS IN THEGreat Hall, Dugald was staring at his laird as if the man had sprouted a second head.
"Ye're actually going to wed her?"Dugald's voice carried a note of disbelief that set Bhaltair's teeth on edge."The witch?"
"She's not a witch."Bhaltair's words came out sharper than he'd intended.He stood with his back to the dying fire, arms crossed over his chest, his expression thunderous.
"But laird, ye saw her yerself.Bursting in here like some mad creature of the forest, muttering and wild-eyed, covered in mud and brambles." Dugald shook his head."When I first suggested this match, I thought perhaps the rumors were far fetched.But seeing her tonight...well, 'tis enough to give a man pause."
Bhaltair's jaw clenched."What ye saw tonight was a woman who'd been chased through the forest by an angry mob.Any person would look wild under such circumstances."
"Aye, but—"
"But nothing."Bhaltair turned to face his clansman fully, his eyes glittering dangerously."The lass saved a bairn's life, and for her good deed she was branded a witch and hunted like an animal.If that makes her mad in yer eyes, then perhaps ye should examine yer own judgment."
Dugald raised his hands defensively."I meant no offense, laird.'Tis just ...when she ran straight to ye instead of her own father...well, 'twas passing strange."
Something twisted in Bhaltair's chest at the memory.The way she'd trusted him instinctively, positioned herself behind him as if she'd known without doubt that he would protect her.The feel of her small, trembling form pressed against his back.
"She kenned I would keep her safe," he replied."And she was right."
"Aye, but why?Ye'd never met before tonight.How could she have known—"
"Because," Bhaltair cut him off, "some things dinnae require explanation.They simply are."
Dugald studied his laird's face in the flickering firelight, taking in the set of his jaw, the defensive tension in his broad shoulders.A slow smile began to spread across his features."Well, I'll be damned," he murmured."She's bewitched ye after all."
"Enough with yer havering," Bhaltair replied through gritted teeth."I'm getting exactly what I came here for.A wife with a substantial dowry who can save our clan from ruin.That's the end of it."
But even as he spoke the words, he knew they weren't entirely true.Yes, the dowry was crucial, and without it, his people would face starvation come winter.But there had been something else in that moment that had stirred to life in his chest.
She was beautiful, aye, even covered in mud.But more than that, she was intelligent.Brave.When the mob had accused her of witchcraft, she hadn't cowered or begged—she'd stood her ground and defended her actions with fierce pride.When he'd told her she was to wed him, the color had drained from her face, but she hadn't fainted or dissolved into hysteria.
Sìne MacKay was exactly the kind of woman who could stand beside him and never flinch from the challenges such a life would bring.The fact that she came with enough gold to rebuild his keep and feed his clan through the coming winter was simply practical.
"Of course, laird," Dugald replied, but his knowing smile remained."Whatever ye say."
Bhaltair glared at him."Dinnae ye have duties to see to?Preparations to make for the journey home?"
"Aye, that I do."Dugald headed toward the door but paused at the threshold."For what it's worth, laird...I ken we may have forced yer hand a wee bit, but the clan and I...we still want what's best for ye."
Bhaltair sighed and simply nodded his head in acknowledgment.He knew deep down his men were loyal; the truth was they'd been in dire straits for so long it was second nature to try any solution to remedy their situation.He had to be content with the fact their intentions were pure despite their actions being reckless at times.
He resolved that whatever happened from here on, he would make the best of it.No doubt this would only be a marriage of convenience, and there was no need to become attached or sentimental.
