Highlander’s False Betrothal by Alisa Adams
10
The next morning, Caroline awoke and rolled over to find that Aodh was already up.
Not only that, but he was in the process of dressing, and he had not yet managed to fully raise and secure his trousers, giving her a glimpse of his shapely and sculpted bottom.
The view was so delightfully unexpected that she found she had to bite down on the bedclothes to suppress a squeal of excitement. She did not want to call attention to herself, lest he know what she had seen and be embarrassed. But even so, he must have heard her gasp, for he turned and blushed once more.
“Ah, I apologize,” he said quickly, hastening to finish composing himself. “I had thought you might be asleep for a bit longer, and so—”
“There is no need for an apology,” she assured him. “I barely saw a thing, you have my word. And besides, if we are going to be sharing sleeping accommodations, then I suppose we should become accustomed to the occasional slip here and there…in terms of finding each other unclad, that is.”
“I understood what you meant,” he replied brusquely. “At any rate, I shall take my leave while you dress yourself, and after that, I thought we might journey to the estate of Bhaltair Carnegie.”
Caroline yawned, stretching. “Oh?”
He nodded. “Shortly before the wedding, you mentioned that we must make a solid show of being husband and wife. I thought this might be the perfect opportunity for us to do just that. Carnegie has invited us—that is, you, me, and Freya—to be his guests while further arrangements are made regarding Scott’s marriage to Freya.”
“I do not imagine Freya will be especially pleasant company during this trip, then,” she said with a smirk.
Aodh chuckled. “No, I do not suppose she will. Then again…”
“Oh no,” Caroline interjected warningly.
He raised his eyebrows. “I have not even proposed anything! What could you possibly be objecting to?”
“I object,” she sniffed haughtily, “to what you were about to say, which was that it will be my responsibility to not only cheer Freya up during the journey but also somehow make her stop being angry with you for forcing her to marry Scott. To make her see, in fact, that it is the best course of action, and that she should indeed be thanking you for—”
“All right, all right!” he cut in, laughing. Again, she relished the rare sound, and enjoyed the fact that she was able to draw it out of him. “I shall not expect any such thing from you. Is that sufficient assurance? You need not pacify her in any way whatsoever. In fact, why don’t you encourage her to show me even greater ire? The two of you could plot my downfall in secret! You could arrange to have me banished or beheaded and rule Campbell Castle together as sisters by law!”
Caroline giggled. “You paint a fine picture, sir! I shall make that very suggestion to her when next I see her.”
“Then I suppose I had best get my affairs in order,” Aodh countered with a grin, “for I wouldn’t have a prayer against either of you individually, let alone the both of you together.”
He left, and as Caroline rose and dressed, she thought about how easily they had begun to speak with each other. There had been a great deal of friction between them, certainly, and she imagined there might be a bit more as they got to know each other. But overall, it seemed to her as though they had already started to create a sort of shorthand between them, a familiarity which allowed them to guess at each other’s motives.
Which seems like more than a great manyactual married couples have, now that I come to think of it, she pondered.
She’d had her share of suitors back in England, and she had frequently enjoyed the coy dance of affection and modesty she’d engaged in with them. But she had not come to know any of them enough to grow genuinely relaxed or comfortable in their presence. She had never really gotten to know any of them or come to understand the processes of their minds.
Or their hearts.
And she was beginning to feel as though she understood Aodh’s heart, despite how strictly and sternly he tried to guard it.
The carriage and its attending entourage of servants and guards departed later that same day. Although there was plenty of room in the coach, Aodh rode separately on horseback. He suspected, and rightly so, that Freya might find the journey more enjoyable if she could talk to Caroline about her anger and indignation rather than feeling as though she had to remain sullenly silent simply because she was sitting across from her “evil big brother.”
Even though Caroline had staunchly refused to act as an intermediary between the siblings, she still—maddeningly—found herself filling that very role during the trip.
She could not help it. She simply couldn’t bear to see poor Freya so upset.
“You must understand that he would never willingly do anything to hurt or offend you, dear girl,” Caroline said consolingly.
“No, perhaps not ‘willingly,’ only stupidly and unthinkingly, and…and…and stupidly!” Freya repeated, her eyes brimming with angry tears. “How could he not know that it would make me furious to be sold off to some total stranger?”
“Because he did not truly mean what he said to Laird Bhaltair,” Caroline explained fervently. “He was simply placed in a difficult position, and he did what he had to in order to buy himself time to come up with a better solution.”
“I don’t believe that,” Freya sniffled. “My brother is a man of his word. He never says things he doesn’t mean. He never would, not even under pain of death! I am sure of it!”
Caroline guiltily remembered exchanging false vows with him and wondered whether it might help matters if she revealed their plan to Freya. After all, Freya was more trustworthy than anyone else in the castle.
And far more so than Ainsley,Caroline added mentally, who knows as well, God help us.
Ultimately, though, she decided it would probably do more harm than good. Freya was just as likely to blame Aodh for not confiding that in her, on top of everything else.
So she reached across the carriage, putting her hand over Freya’s. “You must not despair. I understand that you are perturbed, and you have every reason to be, but you must keep in mind that the choice is still yours in the end. No one can force you to marry at the point of a sword.”
“Oh no?” Freya challenged. “Is that not exactly the same fate which befell you yesterday? You had no genuine wish to marry my brother, but still, you were shoved into doing so, and why? Because men cannot seem to stop slaughtering each other without marrying off their damn sisters and daughters to each other! It’s not fair!”
Inwardly, Caroline was compelled to admit that the girl made a valid point. “You are not wrong,” she agreed. “It is not fair. But I promise you this: We will find a way through it together, and no matter what happens, I swear that I will be on your side. If you meet with this boy and decide you cannot bear to marry him, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you do not have to.”
“Anything? I have your word?”
“Absolutely,” Caroline confirmed.
Freya smiled through the tears. “Even if there is no other recourse but to pack me into a wooden barrel and load me onto the back of a wine merchant’s cart so that he might smuggle me away under cover of moonlight? And then to tell Aodh that I was washed away by a river and tragically drowned so that they do not arrange a search party for me? And then take careful notes of what everyone says during my funeral services, and have the particulars sent to me?”
“Yes, Freya, even then.”
She thought it over for a moment, then nodded, wiping her tears away. “Very well. In that case, as long as I have your word, I shall endeavor to persevere.”
“Truly, your stoicism in the face of adversity is an inspiration to us all,” Caroline assured her solemnly, placing a hand over her heart.
They laughed together, and the sound traveled across the hillside like the music of crystal bells, bringing a smile to Aodh’s face.
Still, he knew his little sister’s good humor would not last if she were forced into a marriage she did not want.
What else can I offer Lair Bhaltair if Freya chooses not to go through with it?he wondered. Money? Land? He has plenty of both, and neither is a fit substitute for a dead son, even one lost in battle.
Surely, there must be some other way to avoid a war fought over a father’s grief. If not, then how much more bloodshed must I see in my time as a laird? I have barely ruled the clan a handful of years, and I will have led its men into the carnage and madness of war twice over.
Could Freya, too, engage in a false marriage if it came to that? What right do I have to expect such a tactic to work twice when I cannot yet be certain it has even truly worked once?
These were the thoughts that hovered over his head like storm clouds as they rode toward the ancestral manor of the Carnegie clan.
It was a lovely estate, with a tree-lined path leading from the tall, wrought iron main gates of the property all the way up to the circular front courtyard decorated with a fountain. The edifice was relatively modern compared to the stone-walled castles and fortresses occupied by many other lairds in the region; this was because the clan’s original home had been devastated by a siege four generations before, and so they had been forced to rebuild.
There were sculptures of numerous figures in various poses and attitudes—remnants left over from the rule of Bhaltair’s father, who had fancied himself a kind of “warrior-artist,” lending as much importance to works of beauty as he did the vitality of combat.
Unfortunately, though, Bhaltair had not taken after his father all that much. Rather, his viewpoints and behaviors had largely been inspired by his mother, and to Aodh’s knowledge, a nastier woman had never drawn breath in the history of Scotland. She was always pressing her husband to be more cruel and spiteful with his enemies instead of petitioning them for peace or showing them mercy. She’d advocated for torture and assassination as means of expediency. She had called him a starry-eyed fool for having any interests in his life other than brutality and conquest.
Aodh was ashamed to admit, even to himself, that when he had first ascended to the role of laird and Bhaltair had sworn the Carnegie clan’s fealty to him, Aodh had been relieved that Bhaltair had favored his mother over his father. That he had a hard-forged and pitiless fighter at his side, rather than a sculptor and a dreamer.
But that is the problem with keeping a particularly vicious creature as a pet or sentry, isn’t it?Aodh thought ruefully. It’s all well and good when their innate nature causes them to snarl and snap at those you call enemies. It’s another thing entirely when those same fangs are bared at you. And in both cases, the animal is simply doing what comes naturally to it.
There were dozens of guards and servants standing in rows, waiting to greet the Campbells. There was still some distance between the procession and the manor’s main entrance when Aodh signaled for them to stop, then dismounted and handed the reins of his mount to Quinn (who, naturally, had insisted on coming and providing protection).
Then Aodh briskly walked to the carriage and opened the door, climbing in. “It might be more appropriate,” he suggested, “if I arrive in the coach with you both rather than riding in separately.”
Freya grunted and crossed her arms, stubbornly looking out the window and refusing to answer. Aodh exchanged a look with Caroline, confirming that his sister was still angry with him. Caroline shrugged as if to say, What? I did my best!
They continued up the path until they reached the front of the manor, where Bhaltair stood next to his son Scott.
When she saw the boy, Freya’s eyebrows went up, and her expression softened tremendously.
“Oh my,” she said under her breath. “He is quite handsome, though, isn’t he?”
Caroline broke into a wide grin. “Very handsome, yes, I certainly think so! Why, if I were not already married, I might try to steal him for myself! Aodh, what do you think? Is he not lovely to look at?”
Aodh winced, turning red again. “I, ah, shall have to take your word for it, I suppose.”
Scott Carnegie was devilishly good-looking; there was no doubt about that. He was tall and slender, with facial features that were small and narrow to the point where they made him look naturally elfin and mischievous, as though he were nursing a damn good joke that he simply could not wait to share with someone. He had a high, smooth forehead and straight black hair that was tightly slicked back, as though he had just emerged from a pool or waterfall. His eyes glinted, green and amused.
Freya’s eyes, meanwhile, were practically the size of serving trays as she stared at him unabashedly.
“While it is true that we may have neglected to bring a red carpet to unroll and walk down, Freya,” Aodh commented with a smirk, “your tongue, I think, makes for a poor substitute.”
She closed her mouth and shot Aodh a dagger-like glare before returning her full attention to young Scott.
The carriage came to a stop in front of the manor, along with the entourage on horseback. A servant of the Carnegie manor opened the door and helped Caroline step down, followed by Freya and Aodh.
Bhaltair, far from the stern and accusing countenance he had worn at the wedding, gave the visitors a big smile. “Welcome, one and all! Welcome to Carnegie Manor! I am so pleased that this could be arranged!”
Aodh forced a smile in return, although privately, this pretense of friendship nearly made him ill. He could scarcely conceive the boorishness of a man who would make dark threats to another on a wedding day and then hide all of that behind bland pleasantries, pretending to be a gracious and reasonable person.
So much insincerity in this world, Aodh lamented. So many lies and prevarications. Am I the only man left in the world who means what he says?
Then he thought back to the vows he’d exchanged with Caroline and felt a pang of guilt.
“Thank you for inviting us,” Aodh replied evenly, turning to Scott. “Young Master Scott, may I present to you my darling sister, Lady Freya Campbell.”
Scott took Freya’s hand without hesitation, bringing it up to his lips. “Charmed, my lady, I’m sure.”
Freya’s face turned roughly the color of a strawberry. “Th-Thank you,” she stammered.
“Come in, all of you!” Bhaltair encouraged. “Come and relax after your journey, and we shall arrange a fine supper indeed!”
