Page 15 of Awoken
MacKinnon’s mouth curved. “Nothing to say, eh?” he murmured. “That’s good. A woman should know when to hold her tongue.”
Heat flushed through Leanna, as did the urge to spit at him. Once again, she restrained herself. She sensed that a fight was exactly what he wanted.
His gaze raked over her once more. “As lovely as ye are in that habit, the time has come for ye to cast it aside. We will be wed before the sun sets today.” MacKinnon glanced to where Carr Broderick stood, a still figure carven from stone. “Fetch the priest.”
Broderick gave a brisk nod and left the solar without a backward glance, the door thudding shut behind him.
Leanna watched him go, her heart racing. Events were moving so swiftly now; it was impossible to keep up. She couldn’t imagine being MacKinnon’s wife by nightfall, and yet that fate was now rushing toward her.
MacKinnon moved to the mantelpiece and retrieved something. He then approached her, holding out his hand. A beautiful scotch thistle brooch, set around a large piece of amber, gleamed up to her.
It was exquisite, and if her father had gifted her such a piece of jewelry, Leanna would have squealed with joy.
However, the sight made her belly clench and caused a sickly sensation to wash over her.
“Something pretty for my lovely bride-to-be,” MacKinnon murmured, his voice developing a crooning edge. “Make sure ye wear it from now on.” The clan-chief then turned to Campbell. “Take my betrothed to Drew … and see that she is given more ladylike attire. She will then join us for the noon meal.”
“This kirtle will suit ye well, Lady Leanna … it will go with the flecks of green in yer eyes.”
A slender woman with regal bearing approached Leanna. Dressed in a fitting dove-grey kirtle, her thick brown hair piled up onto her head, Drew MacKinnon had her brother’s grey eyes. It was hard to tell her age, for her skin was smooth and unlined. Yet there was a knowingness in the woman’s gaze, a shrewdness, that made Leanna guess Drew MacKinnon had seen her thirty-fifth winter at least.
Her voice, as she held up the pine-green kirtle for Leanna’s inspection, was faintly mocking.
Leanna took the kirtle without a word, her fingers digging into the soft fabric. She had to admit, it was beautifully made. It was ironic really. How often had she dreamed of being able to dress again in one of the kirtles she had once worn? She hated her heavy, shapeless habit, and yet at that moment she wanted to clasp it to her. Suddenly, she wanted to wear it for the rest of her life.
Lady Drew’s gaze met hers then, and Leanna swore the woman’s eyes twinkled.
“Does my plight amuse ye?” Leanna asked, anger sweeping up from her belly.
MacKinnon’s sister inclined her head. “Not in the slightest. But we must make the best of things, mustn’t we?”
“I don’t want to make the best of things. I want to go back to Kilbride.”
Drew huffed out a breath and turned, retrieving a softléine from the bed. It was a beautiful garment, a warm butter-yellow in color. The old Leanna, the one who had delighted in each new kirtle and shawl, would have reached for it, would have marveled over the fine needlework. However, Sister Leanna viewed the léine as if it were a serpent about to strike.
“Kilbride is lost to ye, my dear,” Drew murmured, passing her the long shift dress. “It’s best ye don’t dwell upon it.” She motioned to the screen behind them. “Ye can change there. Let me know if ye need any help.”
Leanna didn’t move. Holding the garments, which smelled of lavender, she merely stared at Drew MacKinnon. Rage simmered, and despite that it was cool inside the chamber, sweat beaded her skin.
“So ye think forcing a woman to wed against her will is right?” she managed finally.
Drew held her gaze, her mouth lifting at the edges in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I didn’t choose my husband either. Few high-born women get to.”
“Yer brother can’t just take me like this … there will be consequences.”
Drew’s smile turned hard. “From whom? Yer father?”
Silence fell in the chamber then. A narrow window was open, allowing a crisp breeze to filter inside. Somewhere beyond, Leanna could hear faint children’s laughter.
How she longed to go back in time, to those days when she had been under her parents’ care, those days when she had believed that nothing could touch her, or those she loved.
“My husband wasn’t a bad man,” Drew said after a weighty silence. “But he was an interminable bore … and his touch made my skin crawl. He was older than my own father, yet I was still bid to wed him.”
Leanna clenched her jaw. “Is that supposed to give me solace?”
Drew gave a soft laugh. “I’m just trying to make ye see that for women like us, life has few choices. Ye have to use yer wits to rise above it.”
Long moments passed, and Leanna didn’t move. With one hand, she reached down and clutched at her habit’s heavy skirt. “I can’t take this off,” she choked out the words. “I’m a Bride of Christ.”
