F
iona had just finished explaining
Edgar MacKinnon’s proposal to William and Collin and their wives. They sat now, in silence, around the table in Fiona’s study. For a long time, none of them said a word.
“I’ve spent only a small amount of time with Bhruic these past two days,” Collin said as he glanced first at his wife, then to Fiona. “He be a good man. I like him.”
Mairi placed a hand on Collin’s arm. “But Fiona does no’ love him, Collin.”
Collin patted Mairi’s hand. “I ken that. But unfortunately, she be no’ in a position to take love into consideration.”
Mairi began to protest at her husband’s insensitivity. He stopped her with a wave of his hand. “Mairi, ye ken as well as I that what I say be true. Fiona is chief. Marriage for her — or any chief for that matter — is no’ always a matter of the heart, but a matter of what is best fer the clan.”
“True or no’, ’tis no’ fair that she has to be forced into a marriage without consideration of her heart,” Mairi argued.
“Think of what it would mean fer the clan,” William interjected. “’Twould mean gainin’ good fightin’ men that we need.”
Isabelle looked at her husband with mouth agape, utterly stunned that he would agree to such a union. “William! Ye of all people? Ye’ve always been Fiona’s champion and now ye throw away all regard fer her feelin’s just to gain more men?”
“I do no’ throw away all me regard, Isabelle. If I did no’ like Bhruic, I’d be against this just as much as ye.” He glanced at Fiona then and said, “Besides, she would be gainin’ a daughter.”
Of all the people in the room, William knew how desperately Fiona wanted a child of her own. Fiona gave him a modest smile but remained quiet.
Isabelle threw her hands up in frustration. “I be surprised at the both of ye,” she said. “Ye were against all the other proposals ’til this one. Ye make no sense!”
“Aye,” Mairi agreed. “Fiona turned down every proposal to date and ye supported her decision. Even after the raids began, ye said no to Fiona marryin’ anyone. I do no’ understand either of ye.”
“Aye,” Collin said. “We were against Fiona marryin’ another
chief.
That would have meant us losin’ our name, our identity, our history. This be different.”
“How?” Mairi asked, dismayed by her husband’s turn in opinion.
“It be different because with this marriage, Fiona remains chief, Clan McPherson remains Clan McPherson, we get one hundred strong fightin’ men. Fiona no’ only gets a child she can call her own, but a good husband who likes her and finds her quite bonny,” Collin explained.
Fiona had heard enough. “Ye all make valid arguments fer and against this union,” she said as she drew circles on the table with her index finger. “But in the end, the decision is still mine to make. I ken we need more men. I ken we need strong allies, and we would have that with the MacKinnon.”
While she may have known those things to be true, it did not mean she enjoyed the thought of having to make this decision.
“I will no’ make the decision lightly, ye have me word,” she told them as she pushed herself away from the table. “The hour is late so I shall now bid ye all good night.” With a nod of her head, she quit the room and went to her bedchamber.
F
iona’s mind
would not settle, would not allow her the sleep she desperately needed. Each time she closed her eyes she would see Caelen’s face, filled with pain, pain she had caused him.
An ache had settled deep in her heart. An ache so profound and intense that she did not think she would ever be rid of it. Alone in her room, she sat on the wide windowsill, wrapped in a blanket, chilled to the bone. She stared out across the rocky land into the indigo sky, sprinkled with stars and a crescent moon. And she wept quietly, praying and wishing for things she could not have.
The wound of having to leave Caelen, of having to turn away the chance at being his wife, was still so fresh and raw. Fiona wondered if ’twould ever heal or if ’twould simply continue to fester until she was nothing but a shell of the woman she had once been.
It had only been less than a sennight since last she’d seen him, but much had happened since she’d left the man she loved on the steps of his keep. When she’d left him there, she thought it had been the single most difficult decision of her life. Now? Now she was forced to make another that would, she knew, be even more difficult. Marry a man she did not love and knew she never would in order to secure the future and safety of her clan. Or, turn down the offer, and leave her clan vulnerable to more attacks, more raids, and the potential loss of more lives.
Oh, how she wished Bridgett were here to help her, to offer solid advice, a word of comfort. Bridgett would have understood how difficult this decision was and would have done her best to help Fiona through it, no matter which path she took.
How could she say yes and marry a man, who, though she liked him well enough, she could not imagine ever loving, at least not in the same way she loved Caelen? How could she willingly go to the altar and make a promise to love and honor Bhruic? ‘Twould not be fair to either of them or to Caelen.
How could she take another man into her bed and share her body with him? The thought brought forth more tears. In her heart, she knew that if she did say yes and marry Bhruic, every time he touched her she would think of Caelen. It would be Caelen’s lips she wanted pressed passionately against her own. And Caelen’s hands she would want and imagine gently caressing her skin, not Bhruic’s. And she was sure it would be Caelen’s voice she would hear whispering sweet words in her ears, his hot breath upon her skin, not Bhruic’s.
The marriage would be nothing but a lie from the beginning.
’Twould change her, ’twould make her a liar and she’d no longer be the woman she once was. The guilt would be unbearable.
F
iona woke
to the morning light feeling just as confused and contrary as when she had fallen asleep. No new answers had miraculously arrived whilst she slept. No fail-proof plan had come to mind for a way out of the mess she found herself in. She hadn’t fallen out of love with Caelen nor had she received a divine message from God telling her who had killed her best friend. In short, nothing had changed.
She slid from her bed, splashed cold water on her face, washed her teeth and dressed. The clan chiefs were set to leave after breaking their fast. Whilst she’d have preferred to remain in her room, there was too much to do. First on her list was telling Edgar MacKinnon thank ye, but no thank ye. She couldn’t marry Bhruic.
She made her way down the stairs and into the gathering room. It looked to be every bit as full as the night before. Secretly, she had hoped that they’d all be gone by the time she made her way below stairs.
Cursing under her breath the lot life had dealt her, she made her way to the dais where Collin and Mairi were already seated. Mairi was feeding wee Symon little bits of bread and eggs. He was such a sweet babe, all cheeks and thick eyelashes and drool. Happily chomping away at bits of bread, not all of it making its way into his belly. God in heaven, what she would not do to have a babe of her own.
As she made her way to the front of the gathering room, she caught sight of Edgar MacKinnon on the opposite side of the room. Fiona made her way through the crowded space to speak with him. “Good morn, Edgar,” Fiona said, forcing a smile.
“Ah! Good morn to ye as well, Fiona,” he said cheerfully.
’Twas far too crowded at the moment to have the conversation she needed to. “After ye break yer fast, could ye please join me in me study?”
Edgar smiled and said, “Of course. Shall I bring Bhruic?”
“Nay, that will no’ be necessary.”
For a fleeting moment, his smile disappeared. “Verra well,” he said with a curt nod. “After we break our fast.”
Fiona thanked him and went to sit with her family. “Good morn, Collin, Mairi,” she said as she made her way up the steps. As she passed behind them, she paused to kiss the top of Symon’s head. “And good morn to ye, ye wee beastie,” she said playfully. When he looked up to smile at her, she noticed a bump on his forehead “What be this? Were ye wounded in battle, wee one?”
Mairi rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Nay, he’s taken to pullin’ himself up to things,” she explained. “But he does no’ realize not everythin’ be sturdy. He tried pullin’ himself up to the stool I sit upon fer sewin’. It flipped over, and knocked him right in his wee head.” Mairi placed a motherly kiss on his little bump. “I be surprised ye didna hear him screamin’! ’Twas loud enough to wake the dead.”
Fiona laughed and took her seat. “I fear the lack of sleep finally caught up with me last night. Hordes of Huns could have attacked and I’d have slept through it.”
Collin finished shoveling eggs into his mouth and downed the rest of his cider before taking Symon into his own lap. “What say we let yer beautiful mum eat, Symon?”
Symon cooed and laughed as Collin bounced him on his knee. “Ye’ll be walkin’ before long, aye?” he asked Symon. “That will be when all the fun starts.”
Fiona was enjoying Symon’s giggles and coos, when something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. Why it drew her attention, she could not rightly say. Nonetheless, she looked up to see Bhruic standing in the entry way. He was not alone.
Alyse McPherson was with him.
Alyse was a quiet woman, just a year or two younger than Fiona. And like Fiona and Bhruic, she was widowed. Alyse had come from the MacKinnon clan six years ago when she married Gerald McPherson. Poor Gerald lost his life more than a year ago, to a freak accident. He’d been in the forest felling trees with several other men. Unfortunately, Gerald cut one way, but the tree went another and he could not get away in time. The tree came crashing down, killing him instantly.
’Twas quite possible that Bhruic and Alyse knew each other.
But there was something in the way Alyse looked at Bhruic that told her it was much more than a mere acquaintance between them. She couldn’t quite put her finger to it, but instinct told her there was more to it than even friendship.
In truth, it did not matter one way or another. Fiona was not going to marry Bhruic.
F
iona stood
between Collin and William on the steps of their keep. They were watching the MacKinnon clan — the last of their visitors — leave through the gate. Relief washed over Fiona as the last mounted man went through.
“How did the MacKinnon take the news,” William asked as he turned to face her.
“Better than I expected,” Fiona said. “I thought fer certain he’d be quite angry, but he was no’. Though he does no’ quite understand the way of a woman’s heart, he was no’ angry fer me turnin’ down the offer.”
Collin placed a hand on her shoulder and the three of them went inside. “Do ye think he’ll remain an ally, even though he said no to marryin’ his nephew?”
“Aye, I do.” Though for the life of her she couldn’t understand why. Something had happened over the past two days. Edgar had shown a less harsh side of himself, even after she told him she couldn’t marry Bhruic. While she would not go so far as to call Edgar MacKinnon a friend, she now had a more positive attitude toward the man.
“Good,” William said as they made their way through the gathering room and down the hallway to Fiona’s office. “Lord knows we do no’ need any more enemies.”
“Were either of ye able to learn anythin’ new?” Fiona asked.
Collin sighed and shook his head. “Unfortunately, no’. The only rumor that anyone speaks of now is that our water be magic. Ridiculous as that may seem.”
“Water,” Fiona said with a shake of her head. “All this over water. ’Tis as ludicrous as what William told me last night.”
Collin paused just inside the study. “I fear I know no’ of what ye speak,” he said. Whilst he attempted to feign ignorance, his red face bespoke the truth. He knew exactly to what Fiona referred.
“Liar,” Fiona said as she sat down behind her desk. “Ye ken
exactly
what I be speakin’ of. That ridiculous story William told me last night. About how are mum was so worried over me stunnin’ beauty that no one was ever to speak of it.”
A knowing glance past between her brothers.
“Do ye truly expect me to believe it?” Fiona asked as she leaned forward in her seat.
With his eyes on his brother, William cast a slight motion of his head in Fiona’s direction, as if to say
ye talk to her.
Collin cleared his throat. “What William told ye be true.”
Fiona stared at him.
Unbelievable.
After everyone had left her bedchamber the night before, she had thought a great deal about what William had told her. She was now thoroughly convinced that the stories had been made up, though the purpose of which evaded her. Believing that they felt sorry for their sister and only wanting to keep her from killing anyone who gave her a compliment, she had dismissed it all in its entirety.
“I appreciate what ye be tryin’ to do,” Fiona began as she folded her hands together and placed them on her desk. “But truly, ’tis no’ necessary.”
“Fi,” Collin began before she cut him off.
“Collin, we’ve more important things to discuss than me beauty or lack thereof.” Finished discussing the matter, she turned to William. “Have ye heard from Brodie?”
“Only that their healer is makin’ him stay abed, much to his consternation,” William said with a smile.
“It must be hell on earth fer him,” Collin said. “He never was one to lay abed, unless he had someone
in
the bed with him.”
Fiona laughed aloud. Brodie was definitely as fond of women as they were of him. But he was also a very proud man. “Does he say when he will be able to travel?”
“’Twill be at least two more weeks,” William said. “That is, if he listens to the healer.”
“I doubt he will listen to anyone,” Fiona said. “Aside from complainin’ about stayin’ abed, does he have any new information fer us?”
William puffed his cheeks and let out a long breath. “Unfortunately, nay. Accordin’ to everyone we’ve spoken to, this all be over water.”