Highlander’s False Betrothal by Alisa Adams

2

Caroline strolled alongside Aodh for quite some time, waiting for him to speak.

He did not.

In fact, it seemed he could barely bring himself to look at her.

Instead, he made a point of studying the grass, the sky, and even the walls of the castle as they walked around it in a circle. At one point, a passing squirrel seemed to hold his interest for several moments.

Finally, Caroline ran out of patience. “I do not feel that this stroll is achieving much in the way of acquainting us with each other.”

Aodh’s expression hardened almost imperceptibly. “No, I don’t suppose it is. Then again, I am uncertain that any amount of polite conversation will benefit either of us in this instance.”

“Am I to assume, then,” she ventured, “that you are not amenable to this marriage after all?”

“Indeed not,” he freely admitted.

Caroline sighed, frustrated. “Then it seems to me that you might have just as easily saved both of us the time and bother of this entire charade, rather than writing to my father and proposing we become betrothed!”

“I wrote no such letter.”

She frowned. “But I saw it! It bore your seal!”

“Yes, and my signature as well,” Aodh affirmed, “but both were provided after it had already been written by Edmund. This entire notion was his. A quick and decisive way to end the destructive war between your father and my clan.”

“Men!” Caroline scoffed. “You are such a thoroughly exasperating lot! Neither of you wishes to continue at this war, yet rather than simply shake hands and agree to a cessation of hostilities, you must involve others in the pageantry of saving face so that neither of you must appear weak or admit that he was not the victor in such a contest.”

“You may say what you will of such things,” he replied, “and know that before I became a laird, I might have agreed with you entirely. However, once one has a position of genuine authority, he is burdened with certain responsibilities to his own people. Those duties include ensuring that they can hold their heads high, rather than feeling like a war such as this has left them weak and broken.”

“History is filled with tales of clans and armies which suffered losses without succumbing to despair and ruin over them,” she pointed out.

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you able to name any offhand?”

Caroline opened her mouth, then closed it again, finding that she could not.

Aodh nodded. “Aye, and there’s a reason you cannot. Because those people were left weak and broken, their names and deeds forever obscured by the fog of failure.”

“And you wish to secure a glorious position for your clan in history, then, is that it?” she challenged.

He curled his lip scornfully. “I wish to ensure that my clan will survive and endure, no matter the cost. Even if it involves marrying a damn Englishwoman.”

Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. “An unpalatable prospect for you, I take it? You are not overly fond of the English, is that it? Am I to hear a rousing chorus of the classic Scotsman’s lament—how we are all cruel and wicked devils who stole your lands from you?”

Aodh clearly did not appreciate being mocked. His brow furrowed darkly, and his teeth clenched so hard that his jaw twitched. “I have heard my countrymen say such things many times, aye, and I have never quarreled with those sentiments as they always seemed quite valid. Myself, I have found plenty of foes among my fellow Scots. As such, I’d not had much cause to hate the English in any deep or personal way…or at least, I had not until your blasted father chose to wage war on my clan for no bloody good reason at all. Frankly, Lady Caroline, if it were up to me, I’d still try to decide this on the battlefield instead of the bedchamber.”

“I will not defend my father’s position in terms of attacking your lands,” Caroline retorted, choosing to ignore his immensely improper remark about bedchambers. “However, surely you must know that if you continued to resist, he would simply continue to spend his sizable fortune on overwhelming you with superior numbers and weaponry.”

“Aye, I know that well enough,” Aodh growled. “You’re here, aren’t you? I agreed to send that letter because I am aware this is a fight I cannot win. I will run out of soldiers and horses long before he ever will, and when his siege make their way to these gates, they will destroy the home which has sheltered my family for generations. I cannot allow such things to happen in the name of my own damn pride or stubbornness.”

No, I do not suppose you can,she thought, studying his face. There was fierce pride there, but also a deep shame that seemed to come from knowing he could not prevail on his people’s behalf no matter how hard he fought.

“You seem as though you are no stranger to fighting,” she observed.

He shook his head. “Indeed not. Sometimes it seems as though I have spent my entire life preparing for this very battle only to discover that I cannot possibly win it with sword and shield.” He paused, then added, “I realize that such matters are often solved with marriage. However, my family has a markedly unpleasant history in such things. My older brother Dand was meant to marry a noblewoman, and she turned out to be an atrocious person. Likewise, my sister Sorcha was set to wed the laird of a neighboring clan, but he was revealed to be a villain as well. So as you can imagine, I tend to be somewhat suspicious of such arrangements.”

“I see.” Caroline was put off by his gruff and standoffish demeanor, but given what she had just heard, she understood where it was coming from. “In truth, Laird Aodh, I am also less than pleased with the notion of marrying someone I barely know for reasons having more to do with my father than myself. Perhaps this will sound silly to you or make you think that I was told too many fairy tales as a child, but I had always imagined myself marrying for love.”

A shadow passed over Aodh’s face. “You seem like a halfway decent person for an Englishwoman,” he said in a stiff and uncomfortable tone, “so I feel it is only right that I should tell you this: Some time ago, I pledged my troth to a woman called Ainsley Fletcher. She is of noble birth...a niece of one of the clan’s older and more affluent members. My heart and my passion belong to her.”

Caroline’s eyes widened. “What on earth do you mean? You allowed your advisor to write a letter of intent to marry me, invited me and my father all this way to discuss the prospect, and now you tell me that it has all been nothing but a stupendous waste of my time?”

He held a hand up to placate her. “Ainsley and I are not yet wed! If you and I decide to agree to this arrangement—”

“What?” she demanded. “You will make a fool of me by marrying me while pining for another? While seeing her behind my back, perhaps? Oh, how little you clearly think of me! Your low opinion and insulting proposal must be due to the fact that I am English since you have brought it up as a curse more than once in the short course of our time together!”

“I do not have a low opinion of you,” he insisted. “If anything, I meant to convey that I have a much higher opinion of you than I’d imagined I would. You must forgive me for offending you. Diplomacy and tact are, sadly, not among my skills.”

“Clearly,” she sniffed haughtily. “Even so, the question remains: Why did you go forward with your advisor’s plan, knowing you have promised yourself to another?”

He did not appear eager to admit the reason, even to himself. Still, he took a deep breath and forced himself to answer. “Desperation. I have seen far too many of my kinsmen killed these past twenty-three days, and I can bear it no longer…not if I have a chance to put an end to it. If that means marrying someone I do not love and forsaking the woman I do love in the process, then so be it. The needs of my clan must outweigh the needs of my own heart.”

“I suppose I can respect that,” she conceded, “even though I remain unconvinced that doing so would be the wisest course of action for either of us.”

“As you said, you have already journeyed all this way,” Aodh said reasonably, “and so has your father. Might we give the prospect of this union a chance, then, before dismissing it completely? If within the next few days we decide that there’s no hope for it, we can go our separate ways without being any worse off than we were before.”

Caroline nodded. “Very well. I will admit, though, that I am surprised. My father is your hated enemy, and now he is in your custody, with only four men to guard him.”

He tilted his head, curious. “Yes, what of it?”

“Well, perhaps I shall regret mentioning this, but why would you not simply take this opportunity to kill him and be done with it?”

“Ah, I see,” he replied knowingly. “You believe that all Scotsmen are savages with little regard for keeping their word.”

Now she realized she was the one who had given offense, and she blushed. “I do not hold such a belief, sir, I assure you!”

“You could be forgiven for thinking so,” Aodh told her with a wry smile. “You are English, and raised by English, so no doubt you’ve been told all manner of dreadful tales about how we conduct ourselves. To your people, we are to be despised and trodden upon, like rats.”

“I fear you may be overstating our prejudices somewhat,” she spoke up gingerly, but in truth, she knew that his appraisal of the English’s attitudes toward the Scottish was quite accurate. How many times had she heard her father refer to Scotsmen as “animals,” even before his war against them?

And now he proposes to wed his daughter to one of those very same “animals,”she thought bitterly. Proof, perhaps, that good breeding does not necessarily exempt one from being a villain or a fool.

“Aye, mayhap I am, at that,” he conceded, although he sounded unconvinced. “So we shall go forward for now, then, and see where this prospect leads us? Again, please understand that I do not ask you to love me…only to agree to this arrangement for the sake of our two families and to prevent further bloodshed.”

She considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. We shall see, although I can make no promises for the moment.”

He gave her a grateful smile. “No reasonable person could ask any of you. And thank you.”