The Highlander's Folly (The Novels of Loch Moigh Book 3) (18 page)

“Um . . . no.” A shock of adrenaline hit her bloodstream. “He didn’t mention it.”

“He agreed ’twould be a good match, and he prefers that you wed within our clan so that you might remain close to him and his lady wife. He has pledged a generous dowry on your behalf and granted me permission to court you, with the stipulation that the decision is entirely yours to make.”

Stunned, she had no idea how to react and didn’t know where to look. The last thing she wanted to do was to hurt or embarrass him, and that kept her from tugging her hands out of his.

“I’m no’ the only man to approach your guardian for that purpose.” He grunted. “Cecil has also asked, as well as a few of our higher-ranked warriors.”

“Cecil?” She shuddered. “I don’t understand why anyone would want me. I don’t have any social or political ties, and by fifteenth-century standards I’m like a spinster or something.” She sent him a questioning look. “Aren’t I? I’m already twenty-three. That’s old by your standards.”

“Och, but you are no’ from this era. Being as close to Hunter and his foster family as I am, I’ve been privy to the truth of Lady True and Lady Erin’s origins. They have explained how those from your century live much longer. You and I are of like age, and I dinna think of you as anything but youthful.”

Tieren held her arms out and let his gaze wander over her from head to toe. “Truly? You canna imagine anyone desiring to make you theirs? You are lovely, Meghan, and you possess great strength, skill and wit. Political ties mean naught to me when compared to your many fine qualities. I would be a lucky man indeed to have you by my side. I trow more men will seek Rob’s approval if you dinna choose a husband soon.”

He stepped closer and peered intently into her eyes. “As far as Cecil is concerned, dinna fash,
mùirninn
. I willna let him anywhere near you.”

“Thank you.” She averted her gaze. Heat flooded her face. “He makes me uneasy, and I still think he’s up to something.”

“You are no’ alone in your suspicions.” He placed a finger under her chin and brought her eyes back to his. “Robley has granted me a place in his garrison as a captain, and once the position of commander over Castle Rait’s guard becomes available, he has promised ’twill be mine if I wish it. ’Tis a good living, and I possess a small fortune of my own. As my wife, you would want for nothing. I can provide for you and our bairns. Should you accept me, I swear upon my honor as a knight that I will do all within my power to see you are happy and safe.” He searched her face. “What say you, lass? Could you find a place for me in your heart?”

“Oh, Tieren, you already have a place in my heart.” Her pulse raced, and her mouth went dry. “You’ve become very important to me, and I value our friendship.” She swallowed the lump clogging her throat. “I’m honored by your proposal, but I—”

“Dinna think I have no’ noticed the way you look at Hunter.” He tightened his hold on her hands.
“
’Twould be best for all if you accept that he has pledged himself elsewhere, lass. Given time, ’tis my fervent hope that you might look upon me the way you now look upon him.”

Ouch.
She tugged her hands back and moved out of his reach. Wrapping her arms around herself, she paced. “We don’t know what the future holds. I have no idea why I’ve been brought to your century. How I look at Hunter doesn’t really matter, because I could be returned to my time tomorrow, next week or next month. You are such a good man, Tieren. I am grateful to you on so many levels, but I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“For the present, say naught.” He placed his hands on her shoulders to stop her pacing. “All I ask is that you consider my suit. I swear you will no’ be alone or unprotected should you find you canna return to your time.” He drew her close and wrapped his arms around her. His heart pounded beneath her palms, and her own heart gave an answering wrench.

His piercing blue eyes were a stunning contrast to the darkness of his hair. No doubt about it; he was extraordinarily good-looking, and she was certain women everywhere swooned over him. But his touch didn’t cause the spiraling heat Hunter’s did, and the wrenching sensation in her heart had more to do with empathy than passion.

“I want you, Meghan McGladrey,” he whispered. “And if you wish it, I shall return to your century to be with you.” He cradled her face in his large, callused hands and brushed his lips across hers. His eyes roamed over her face, pausing at her mouth and then rising to her eyes. “Surely your father would find a place for me in his fencing club, aye? He did so for Robley, did he no’?”

She nodded, both touched and alarmed by his declaration—and his kiss. “I consider you a friend, Tieren. I’m grateful to you for the way you look out for me, and I hope you know I’ve got your back as well. I have a lot of respect for you.”

A look of resignation and hurt flashed across his handsome face.
“
’Tis a good place to start.” He jutted out his chin. “Many are obliged to marry with far less between them.”

She twisted her surcot between her fingers. What if she never did get home? What
would
she do? Was it entirely selfish to consider his offer when she didn’t love him? Knowing what she did of their era, she’d have to partner up with someone. Could she accept Tieren when her heart reached for Hunter?

Most marriages in this century had little to do with romantic love, and everything to do with advantageous partnerships. Could she resign herself to such a life?
She wanted heart-pounding, knee-weakening, walk-through-fire-for-you love. That’s what her mom and dad had. Nothing less would do—nothing less would entice her to stay in a time not her own.
Like I have a choice.

“Have I mentioned how lovely you look this eve?” His eyes sparkled, and the laugh lines around his eyes creased.

“Thank you,” she said, some of the tension easing out of her. She gave him the once-over. “You’re looking pretty hot yourself.”

“Hot
?
”
He chuckled low in his throat.
“Though I am uncertain of the meaning, I quite like the implications.” He placed his hand at the small of her back. “Come, my lady. Let us return before Robley realizes we’re no’ within, where he might keep watch over you.”

He turned her toward Moigh Hall, and her heart slammed against her rib cage. Hunter stood at the top of the steps, his arms folded across his chest, his stance wide and a glare drawing a bead straight for her. She lifted her chin.
Glare away.
It’s not like he’d offered her anything.
Not entirely true or fair.
He’d offered her protection, and he’d vowed to return her into her father’s keeping. Both huge.

With Tieren’s hand still on the small of her back, she climbed the stairs, her face a mask of neutrality. Not an easy task considering all the air had left her lungs. She faced Hunter’s unflinching stare. “Where’s Sky?” she quipped in passing.

“She’s suffering with a headache and has retired to her chamber,” he snapped, edging himself between her and Tieren. “Robley is asking for you, Tieren. You’d best seek him out.”

The air grew thick with tension, and Meghan rubbed her temples. “Must be something going around. I have a headache too. I think I’ll head upstairs myself.”

She hurried away before either one of them could stop her. Life in fifteenth-century Scotland was far more complicated than she was used to. Hunter’s behavior made no sense. He couldn’t be jealous. Could he? Nah. More than likely he felt protective of her in the same way Robley did. He’d vowed to return her to her home, and he didn’t want Tieren messing with his plans.

Meghan roamed around the solar, too restless to sit. She had stopped by the solar to see who might be there before heading for the lists. She really needed to make a point of it to spend more time with the ladies, but she’d always been a tomboy. Most of her friends had been guys while growing up. Probably the result of being the younger sister to two brothers. Plus, she’d spent every waking hour training under her father alongside a multitude of boys her age.

All the ladies were present—except for Sky. The relief she felt was followed by a pang of guilt. Sky hadn’t been anything but gracious toward her.

“Where’s Sky?” she asked. Erin and True shared a quick look.
Too obvious?
With their abilities, they must’ve picked up on her jealousy. Mortification heated her face.

“I believe she and her da are visiting with the villagers this morn,” Lydia answered. “Is that no’ so, True?”

True nodded, focusing her attention on the work in her lap. The women seated around the hearth worked on mending, embroidery or tapestries. The girls, Helen and Sarah, held pieces of linen, practicing their stitches, while Hannah Rose paged through one of the many books True and Erin had made for their children.

“It’s been nearly two months since I came to this century. I still have no idea why I’m here, and we aren’t any closer to finding Giselle.” Meghan stopped to stare out of one of the open windows. The impressive view encompassed the lake, green rolling hills and shadowy mountains in the distance. “I don’t suppose you’ve been able to reach Haldor, have you, Erin?”

“If I had, you’d be the first to know.” Erin put the tunic she was mending on her lap. “I’ve done everything I can think of, including making a sign on vellum and placing it on the table in our chamber. I had hoped Haldor might see it if he took a minute to check up on me.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I can sense when he does that, but I haven’t felt anything for months.”

Meghan turned back to the view outside. “I’m getting antsy.”

“What’s
antsy
, Mama?” Hannah looked up at Erin from her book. “I don’t like ants.”

“It means Meghan is feeling restless and agitated.” Erin ran her fingers through her daughter’s curls. “No ants involved, sweetie.”

“Oh.” Hannah turned her big baby blues to Meghan. “What’s
agitate
d
?”

“I miss my family and want to go home. That’s what it means.” Meghan walked over to where Hannah sat beside her mother. She scooped the little girl up and resettled her on her lap. “Do you want me to read this book to you?”

“Nay. I can do it.” She snuggled against Meghan’s chest and turned back to the first page. “I will read it to you.”

“That would be nice.” She hugged her close.

“A is for apple,” Hannah said proudly. “My mama brought apple seeds with her when she came back for my da.” She twisted around to look at Meghan. “We have lots of apple trees at home. I can climb them just as well as my cousin Thomas, and he’s older.”

“Cool.” Meghan tucked the little girl’s hair behind her ear. “Keep reading.”

Hannah traced the words with her finger. “B is for bairns. C is for cabbage.” She glanced over her shoulder at Meghan again, her eyes filled with glee. “And
cool
. D is for da—”

The sound of the village horn interrupted her. “Two tones. What does that mean again?” Meghan asked.

“It means someone from our clan has returned home,” True said.

Meghan frowned. “Who is away besides the men Hunter sent to search for Giselle?”

“None that I’m aware of, my dear.” Lydia glanced up from her embroidery. “Mayhap you shall have news of Giselle’s whereabouts this very day.”

“Do you think so?” Meghan stood and put Hannah down. “Any of you want to go with me to the ferry landing?”

“Nay.” Rosemary shook her head. “You go, lass, and bring us the news when you are able. We learned long ago ’tis best to bide our time in comfort whilst the tidings make their way to us. News manages to circulate without any effort on our part.”

“She’s right.” Erin grinned. “We’ll be here for the rest of the afternoon. If you need us, you know where to find us.”

“All right. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” She opened the door and strode down the corridor. Cecil waited for her at the top of the stairs to the great hall.
Great.
She took a deep breath and tried to unclench her gut.

“My lady,” he said with a bow, gesturing for her to precede him. “Mayhap we shall soon have tidings of the Romany’s whereabouts.”

“I hope so.”

They reached the great hall, and he took her elbow. “I am the eldest nephew of the earl of Glencairn, and third in line to inherit the title.”

She moved far enough away that he had to let go of her. “Good for you.”

“Regrettably, your circumstances will make it quite difficult for you to marry well,” he continued, his tone a little sharper. “You possess no land, nor dowry, and though you are descended from a noble line, we canna share your origins. Nonetheless, I am willing—”

Obviously her guardian hadn’t made it known that he’d promised a dowry for her, or he meant it only for Tieren. Probably a good thing. “None of that matters, since I plan to do everything I can to get home.”

“Mayhap ’twill no’ be possible for you to return.” They reached the door, and once again he took her arm. Only this time, he gripped her a little harder. “You will be forced to marry if such is the case. Choose me, and your bairns will be of noble blood. Choose elsewhere, and your issue will come to naught.”