Highlander's Bride (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 1) (3 page)

Monique reached out and gently squeezed her hand.
"Darling, you made your da very happy, just now. He worried half the night
you would be angry with him."

Truth be known, she was. Afraid her face would
give her away; Katherine quickly scanned the contents of the table. Sighing,
she looked back at her mother. "'Twas no need. I love him as I do
you."

Monique's chin quivered. She nodded and stood.
"Eat quickly." Wiping at her eyes, she turned away, silently motioned
to the servants to follow her and walked out of the hall.

Katherine took a few bites of a bannock and sipped
her watered wine in pained silence. She glanced about the empty hall. On the
far wall, was the small tapestry on which she'd first learned to stitch. And
over there, in the deep windowsill, were her small pots of herbs. They'd soon
need tending. But she wouldn't ask to take them. For surely, she'd be back
before—

The familiar sound of heavy footsteps approached
the table, echoing in the large room. Katherine clenched her hands in her lap
and looked up as her father approached. She bit her lip to keep from shouting
her anguished thoughts and slowly rose to face him.

His deep voice sent a tremor of anxiety
ricocheting down her spine as she heard his fateful words, "Daughter, 'tis
time."

Chapter Two

Sharp pin pricking sensations ran down Katherine's
arms to her fingertips. She loosened her tense grip on the reins and tried to
calm her emotions as the scenery dipped and swayed in time with the throbbing
in her head. Grasping the pommel of her saddle with one hand, she closed her
eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath.

For the last two days she had discussed, cajoled
and even demanded that her parents withdraw their plans for her marriage. All
for naught. And with each mile they traveled, her trust in Daniel's love
dimmed. No matter how many times she looked behind her, he did not appear
riding hard to catch them, vowing his love and offering his name in marriage.

As the afternoon sun rose high in the sky on the
third day, they road free of the forest and her dreaded destination lay in
sight. Even from a distance, its enormous size and massive blocks of cold stone
overwhelmed her. Her hand trembled slightly as she wiped a fine sheen of sweat
from her forehead and her chest ached as a painful jab tore through it, chased
by her frenzied pulse. Tormented thoughts cried out to turn her horse back in
the direction from whence they'd come and gallop away, leaving this place far
behind. She took one last look behind her and forced her heart to accept the
truth. A man's words of love were not to be trusted.

Her future was up to her. She must save herself.

"
Maman
, Da, surely 'tis no need for
such hasty actions." She paused and looked over at her parents' faces,
praying one last time to dissuade them. "I have no need of a husband. I
can take care of myself and my healing skills are needed at home."

Angus Gordon scowled. "Nay, lass. 'Tis no
discussing to be done. You will do this. And as to your work as a healer, 'tis
happy the MacGregors will be to have you amongst them. Now, dinna be poking
your lip out at me. You are not a wee lass anymore to be pouting to get your
way. 'Tis decided, and that is the end of it."

She turned her beseeching gaze on her mother, but
Monique shook her head. "Your da is right,
mon cheri
."

Katherine's shoulders drooped and she nodded in
bitter silence. She pulled back on her reins firmly, slowing her mare's
progress to prolong the moment as long as possible before she rode through the
MacGregor's castle gates and her life changed forever.

As she rode beside her parents, the empty quiet of
the glen only served to strengthen her unhappy thoughts. Blinking back the
angry tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks, she drew a deep breath
and shifted in the saddle. Straightening her back, she forced herself to look
at the castle ahead of her.

Within a few minutes, they rode under the
portcullis and into a large courtyard. Katherine dismounted, rubbed her
pounding temples and darted a quick glance about her as her parents and she
were led into the great hall. Her throbbing headache and tense nerves only
heightened her anxiety as she was introduced to Laird MacGregor.

He had a broad muscular build like her father. But
instead of being clean-shaven, the man had a thick red beard that moved when he
talked. "Welcome, Angus. 'Tis been a long time."

Her father smiled and grasped his friend's forearm
in greeting. "Aye, too long." He released his hand and motioned to
his family. "You remember my lady wife, Monique. And this is our
Katherine."

Ian MacGregor bowed gallantly. "Welcome to
During Castle, ladies. I must apologize that my sons are nay here to greet you.
My elder son, Sir Alexander, is uh… trainin' in the tiltyard. I have sent his
brother, William, to fetch him." 

Katherine felt her face warm in embarrassment. She
had heard the castle's trumpets sounding their approach and later, heard Da
tell the head guard of their arrival. Everyone there should have been waiting
to meet them. Was her arrival the cause for Sir Alexander's absence? She cast a
nervous smile at Laird MacGregor.

"Ah, Angus, she's a bonnie lass. My son's a
lucky lad, to be sure. Lady Monique, you are as lovely as I remember." Ian
nodded to his friend. "Our Highland air seems to agree with her, eh?"

"Aye," Angus replied, tenderly wrapping
his arm about his wife's waist. "But, 'tis been a long journey here. I'm
sure Monique and Katherine would be grateful to refresh themselves and rest
while you and I discuss matters."

"I agree old friend." Motioning to a
servant standing nearby, he added, "Gillian, lassie, come escort our
guests to their chambers."

A plump servant girl, with a freckled face and
cheery smile, came forward and curtsied. "My ladies, if ye'll follow me,
I'll be showin' ye the way. Mind yer steps, the stairs are steep and
twistin'."

They climbed the steps and walked down a long
corridor until they came to a thick wooden door studded with iron. The girl
curtsied to Monique and opened it. "This one is fer ye and yer laird,
m'lady."

Katherine followed them into the large room. Its
gray stone walls were covered with several wall hangings. Fresh air and light
streamed through a small window above a table and two chairs. Crossing the
chamber to the far wall, she ran her hand down a brightly woven tapestry that
depicted a hunt in progress. The stag being pursued was dashing frantically
through the trees.

She rubbed her fingertips gently over its image.
Aye, she knew its desperation; its only thoughts to flee. But she wouldn't run.
Dropping her hand to her side, she drew her shoulders back and nodded silently.
She would stand her ground.

Turning, she walked to the fireplace and stretched
her arms out toward the heat emanating from the burning blaze. It helped to
take the chill from the air. If only the chill in her heart could be so easily
warmed. The thought of leaving her loving parents and home to be given to a
stranger, left her feeling bitter and alone.

Nearby, she saw a hipbath filled with steaming
water. A wine ewer and two goblets stood beside a small pile of linens on a
chest. Glancing about the room, she saw there was nothing further her mother
would need. She must leave and let her rest.

The servant girl turned to Katherine. "My
lady, yer chamber is but a wee bit down the passageway from here. If ye wish,
I'll take ye there now."

Katherine darted a nervous glance at her mother.
Monique's brown eyes widened and she reached out toward her. Then dropping her
arms to her sides, her mother motioned toward the doorway. "Go ahead,
mon
cheri
. You can see I am well cared for. You should rest now. I will see you
after I have done the same." Monique quickly embraced her, then stepped
back, gripping her hands tightly together in silence.

Katherine tried to smile, but her face felt
frozen.  The cheerfulness she and her mother always shared seemed to have
vanished, leaving a cold, empty ache in its wake. Nodding, she squeezed one of
her mother's hands and then followed Gillian down the hallway to her chamber.

When she entered, she was shocked with its lush
beauty, which by far surpassed the simple room designated for her parents. She
walked across the wooden floor, stood in a large alcove encased by a large
leaded glass window, and peered out.

An overgrown flower garden lay directly below. In
the middle of the forgotten plants, a carved stone sundial sat forlornly. Wild
vines wound around its base and covered most of its upper surface. At one time
the garden must have been lovely and might be again with enough attention. But
she didn't plan to be here long enough for that. Somehow she would convince her
parents this was all unnecessary.

Bending down, she ran her hand across the rich
burgundy velvet cushion on the bench seat and sank gratefully into its
softness. As she scanned the room, she saw a large oak bed with velvet hangings
to match the cushion where she sat. Her gaze strayed again to the bright
flowers below before she looked further across the room.

A lady's small writing desk, complete with
precious parchment, quill pen and ink, stood to the left of the door. Next to
it was a delicately carved stool. Its cushion showed a bit of wear.

Surprised that a lady of the castle had obviously
occupied her hours in reading and writing, Katherine was reminded of her own
privileged knowledge that few women possessed. She'd been taught to read and
write early, as soon as she could sit still long enough to hold a quill. Under
her mother's guidance, reading from one of the few books in their home had been
one of the delights of her childhood.

Monique had repeatedly told her, "Now,
petite
,
say it in English and in French," until both languages had become as
natural to her as the Gaelic she heard every day.

Sounds of a fire snapped and crackled, recalling
her thoughts to the present. Beyond the writing desk stood an imposing
fireplace whose mantle was carved of pink marble. It appeared to be
miraculously suspended by the aid of several smiling cherubs carved into each
end. Within it a bright fire burned, sending its glow out into the room.

She walked over and stretched her cold fingers
toward it but the warmth was fleeting. The chill she felt went too deep, to her
soul. The heat of the flames couldn't reach her there.

Anger and hurt had been her constant companions
since learning of the plans for her marriage. She ached inside. Neither the
warmth of the fire nor the pleasant surroundings could take that away. Until
she could find a way out of this, she must hold her emotions back. Erect a
barrier between her and this intolerable situation. Aye, she would keep her
distance from everyone here. No false avowals of love would sway her again.

Looking over her right shoulder, she saw a tub
filled with steaming water as in her mother's room. She walked over to it
noting it was larger and more ornate. A folded linen towel lay on the floor
beside it. Ribbon draped cherubs with frozen smiles were painted on both sides
to match the carved mantle.

She bent and ran her fingertips through the warm
fragrant water, sending the rose petals floating on the surface into aromatic
swirling ripples. The sweet smell mingled with heather scented soap that lay in
a small pewter dish on the floor beside the tub. With her other hand, she
rubbed a thick pink velvet robe that was draped to the side of the bath.

Katherine dropped her hands to her sides, feeling
at odds with her thoughts. She'd convinced herself she wouldn't like this
family she was being forced to accept. Yet, here she was being given a grand
welcome. It would seem someone meant to make her first moments here pleasant.
Or were these riches simply to convince her that she was foolish not to stay?
Was she to be bought and sold then? Like some trinket bartered in a fair?

No. Luxury didn't change matters. This marriage
was being forced on her as surely as an order of imprisonment. And 'twas just
as binding.

She turned to Gillian. "'Tis a beautiful
room. But truly, I don't need one so extravagant. I do not wish Lady MacGregor
to give up her chamber for me."

A look of apparent confusion crossed the young
girl's face and she quickly made the sign of the cross. "Lady MacGregor
has been dead nigh on twelve years now. 'Tis only the Laird and his two sons
that live here."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know. The room
doesn't look as if it has been empty all that time. Do the MacGregors entertain
often and open it up to their guests?"

"No, m'lady. The room is kept as 'twas when
Lady MacGregor lived, but no one is allowed to use it. Ye're the first person
to stay in the room since her death. Laird MacGregor said 'twas to be so."

Katherine tried to swallow against the tightness
in her throat. Perhaps she was being too harsh in her judgment. It wasn't the
MacGregors she minded, just the idea of being forced to marry a man she didn't
know. To give up her dream of marriage for love.

"Are ye unwell, m'lady? Ye look pale."

"No, I am just weary from our journey."

The serving girl quickly glanced around the room
with a look of concern on her face. "If there is aught I can do to make ye
more comfortable, ye have but to say, m'lady. The laird wouldna be pleased if I
didna make it so, and I dinna wish to displease him."

Katherine nodded, then walked back to the window
seat and sat down with a sigh. Did the mighty MacGregors mistreat their
servants for the girl to be so concerned over her comfort? Well, she wouldn't
do so. She forced a smile to her lips. "Thank you. I don't know which I
would rather do first; soothe my tired body in the lovely tub, or simply sit
and relax while I look at the garden below."

"Do ye like plants, m'lady?"

"Aye, I love the beauty of flowers and trees
about me and I enjoy working in the earth."

The girl grinned. "Fie, Lady Gordon, to look
at yer fine skin, I canna imagine ye traipsin' about in the dirt to plant a wee
flower." Immediately, her face reddened and she stammered, "Forgive
me, m'lady. I didna mean to speak so familiar."

"'Tis naught to forgive. I'm not so elegant
that I cannot dirty my hands. Growing plants to use in treating illness is a
skill I learned from my nurse. After she died, the responsibility of caring for
the folk at our castle came to me."

"Ye're blessed to know the ways of a healer,
Lady Gordon."

"Gillian, I am accustomed to being called by
my given name. I'd be pleased if you called me Lady Katherine."

The girl's face registered her obvious surprise.
She nodded as she opened one of Katherine's trunks and set out a change of
fresh clothing. "Lady Gordon, I mean, Lady Katherine, the garderobe is
beyond the tapestry on the left wall and there are linens and more soap in the
carved chest next to it. Do ye wish fer me to help ye with yer bath?"

"No, thank you. I think I'll spoil myself a
wee bit and just rest here for a while. What time should I be dressed for the
evening meal?"