Page 5 of Eloping with the Laird
‘Oh, but that’s just it, Ewan. I don’t wish to marry at all. If I must, which I know I must, I would rather it be...brief, as it would have been with Laird McKenna. That way no one is disappointed, and no expectations are left unmet.’ She kicked a tuft of grass and huffed in frustration.
Ewan stopped and faced her. ‘When have you, Moira Fraser, ever given up on anything? You still have time to win back Laird Death, if you wish.’ He winked at her.
She gasped. ‘Don’t say that,’ she hissed. ‘That is a horrible thing to call him!’
‘Says the woman counting on his demise.’
She frowned. ‘You have a point, but what can I do to win his favour? Help me, brother. Please.’
‘You will not speak to him this night.’
‘What? How is my ignoring him going to help win him over?’
Ewan shook his head. ‘He will believe he is out of the hunt, which shall make him more eager to win your hand.’
‘Perhaps the fall has impacted me more than I realised, for absolutely nothing you just said makes a whit of sense to me.’ She crossed her arms against her chest.
‘Men are rather competitive creatures. Has that somehow escaped you all of these years?’
‘Evidently.’
‘The night before your engagement was announced to Peter, he battled for you.’
‘What?’ Her mouth fell open. ‘He battled for me?’
‘It’s true. Two other lairds had also expressed interest in your hand, so Father had them fight for you. The winner by sword, Peter, was allowed to offer for you.’
‘They did not play to the death, did they?’ Her gut swirled at the thought.
‘Nay, of course not. Just until first blood was drawn.’
‘Is that normal? It sounds ridiculous. And I can’t believe Peter did that. For me.’ She rubbed her arms, shivering. His name still sent a chill along her flesh.
Ewan sobered. ‘It is why we were all so sure he cared for you. Why we believed you would be safe.’
‘I believe it was his desire to possess, not love, which drove him on for that fight, but none of that matters now.’ Moira didn’t wish to hear any more or linger further in the murky memories of the past. She had to focus on finding a suitable husband before Father selected one for her. ‘I have less than a day, brother. What else can I do?’ They began their walk once more, climbing the last stretch between them and the castle in a comfortable silence.
‘Keep trying,’ Ewan finally answered. He bent and grabbed a handful of grass, selected one green stalk and blew on it, sending a trill whistle in the air. He handed her a bright shiny blade of grass. She sighed. Despite the thousand times he’d tried to teach her, she could never get it. What would make today any different?
‘I know that look. Just try, Moira.’
She rolled her eyes, pressed the stalk between her fingers and blew. A bright trill sounded for the first time, ever. She stopped, laughed and faced him.
‘See? Do not give up so easily. Oh...’ He jogged up the castle steps, smiling. ‘And by all that’s holy, have Brenna dress you. Do not attempt to select your gown yourself.’
She stopped cold and looked at her walking dress. ‘What’s wrong with my gown?’
‘Do you really wish for me to tell you?’ Brenna called from the top of the castle steps. As if on cue, Moira’s younger sister chimed in, popping her hands to the tiny waist of her immaculate sky-blue gown. She tilted her head full of dark curls and smirked.
Moira glanced up at her sister’s outfit, assembled to perfection, and down at her now grass-stained day dress. ‘Nay,’ Moira answered, rolling her eyes heavenward. Her shoulders sagged as Ewan chuckled and entered Glenhaven Castle without her.
Could she endure the incessant fluttering and fussing of her younger sister for an hour to attempt to ensnare Laird McKenna into being her husband?
Aye, if the man was certain to not live for long, she could.
Chapter Three
The groan of the heavy wooden door as Rory entered his guest chamber at Glenhaven Castle matched his fatigue. Had he truly arrived this morn? His body claimed otherwise.
