Highlander’s False Betrothal by Alisa Adams
3
Under normal circumstances, Caroline and her father would have been formally invited to dine with Aodh and his other family members that evening. In fact, it was such an expected ritual that the invitation might almost seem superfluous to most.
However, these circumstances were anything but normal.
Aodh and Lloyd had been bitter foes, and so the prospect of sitting down to a meal together as though it were otherwise was rather odd for everyone involved. Edmund was able to smooth things over with Lloyd so as to ensure no offense was given. He pointed out that after such a long journey, it might be best for the lord and his daughter to simply settle in that evening and take their supper in their guest chambers so that a more formal dining affair might be arranged for the following day.
In truth, Lloyd—a vain and easily-offended man—was inclined to take such a thing as a slight. He knew full well, though, that Caroline was already unhappy with this situation and that after traveling for so long, it might be better to give her a chance to calm herself and become more amenable to the prospect as a whole. The last thing he wanted was for her to lose her temper and say something inappropriate during their first night there.
No, better by far to let her have a good night’s rest if possible, he decided. Perhaps it would ease her overall outlook.
When his repast of soup, brown bread, and butter was delivered to his chamber, however, Lloyd stared at it for almost a full five minutes before beginning to eat. Caroline’s earlier words about the hostilities between himself and Laird Aodh—and the generally bloodthirsty nature of Scotsmen—made him rethink whether it was entirely safe for him to have brought her to Campbell Castle and whether he could truly trust the food on his plate.
Hadhe overestimated the civilized nature of these Highlanders? What if his first few bites closed his throat and made his blood run black with poison?
Then his eyes went to the ceremonial swords and daggers arranged on the walls of his chamber and nodded to himself, satisfied. Yes, it was entirely possible that he had made a dreadful error in coming here—that these brutes might turn on him at some point. He pledged that he would remain as alert as possible at all times, in order to prevent such an attack from coming as a surprise.
But poison? No, that hardly seemed like these people’s style, did it? They fancied themselves warriors, and they were savages, there was no doubt of that…which meant it would hardly be fitting for them to triumph over an enemy by poisoning their food or drink. They relished the act of killing too much to do so remotely.
I suppose that thought should not bring me much comfort, he admitted to himself, taking his first spoonful of soup, but so help me, my stomach is growling so much that it actually does.
He finished his meal in a matter of minutes, and shortly after, his resolution to remain vigilant seemed to vanish entirely as he slipped into a deep and snoring slumber.
For her part, Caroline had no difficulty convincing herself to eat.
Sleep, though, was quite another matter.
By now, she supposed that she should have been growing accustomed to the prospect of having been brought all the way to Scotland to meet a potential groom—and one who opposed her father on the battlefield, at that. But the more she tried to make sense of it all, the more it seemed to slip through her fingers.
Aodh was as reticent with regard to this match as she was? And he had already promised himself to another? Was there anything about this entire scheme that made it desirable for anyone involved?
Well, there is at least one thing,she admitted to herself. His company may not be all that pleasant, but he is magnificent to look at.
Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling of her guest chambers, Caroline could not keep herself from recalling his face and body, especially the latter, as she found her mind wandering to surprising and scandalous places with regard to what he might look like beneath his clothes. She had rarely entertained such thoughts about other men she’d met, but now she could not help it. The longer she remained beneath the covers, the more she fantasized about what it would be like if he were under them with her.
After over two hours of this, she shook her head and sat up, getting out of bed. If sleep would not come—and if being idle was allowing her mind to create lewd and unwelcome scenarios (or at least, she told herself they were “unwelcome”)—then she supposed she might as well find some other way to occupy herself until she felt tired enough to try to sleep again.
With that in mind, she dressed in a light and simple shift, donned a pair of slippers, and decided to go exploring within the castle.
After all,she thought, if my father has his way, I shall be living in this place soon enough. I may as well acquaint myself with it as much as possible.
She was unconcerned with whether she would be seen parading around the place in her underthings since she assumed that everyone, including the servants, would be abed at such an hour. She was certain that she would return to her own room long before anyone else woke up. She had to, at any rate…otherwise, any who spotted her might believe she was some sort of madwoman, roaming the hallways half-dressed.
Though I suppose that would be one way for me to get out of marrying Aodh,she thought with a smirk. I might try to be discovered in such a state on purpose if I did not believe it would prompt my father to disown me at once.
Caroline stepped out of her room and began to stroll through the corridors, taking in her surroundings.
Campbell Castle, she found, contrasted sharply against the manors and estates she was used to spending time in back in England. There was a certain degree of history and austerity to those homes (not to mention a great deal of wealth, of course, given the social circles her father traveled in). There was a reverence for the generations that had come before, and it was reflected in the use and preservation of their furniture and heirlooms, as well as the portraits that adorned the walls. Even so, such things had a bright and homey sheen to them. Such houses were meant to seem grand and respectful while still appearing welcoming and comfortable. There was a balance of the old and the new that existed in the unmistakable yet difficult-to-describe region of “good taste.”
This castle, however, seemed to wear its age like a heavy, dusty, ancient cloak.
It wasn’t exactly “crumbling,” as anyone could see that it was built much too solidly for that. No, it was more like it looked as though it was crumbling from the way the centuries-old stones leaned against each other in piles, the mortar between them chipping and eroding steadily until it appeared as though nothing was holding the whole thing together except for stern tradition.
More than that, it had not been built to appear “welcoming.” If anything, its design seemed deliberately forbidding. Which made sense since it had been constructed during a dark and dreadful time when the clans that inhabited these Highlands were little more than tribes of hill people scrabbling for resources and dominance.
No doubt many among them still fit such a description,she thought smugly.
The towers were tall, the steps were steep, and most of the windows in the place appeared to have been designed as slits for archers. There was dust in the air, which would never have been permitted in any of the fine mansions or drawing rooms where Caroline was accustomed to spending her time. The hallways were strangely narrow and winding, and the very stones the place was constructed from seemed to brood with dark thoughts.
It was a disquieting place, to be sure, and not one in which Caroline fancied spending the rest of her life. Still, she was not particularly frightened by her surroundings.
Until she heard a high-pitched scream a few feet away from her.
This, in turn, prompted a scream from her as she whirled, wide-eyed, to confront whatever witch or banshee was wailing at her in the gloom of the corridor.
The sight that greeted her made the scream catch in her throat: A girl who seemed only a few years younger than herself.
“I apologize!” the girl blurted out. “I am not accustomed to seeing other people roam the castle at such an hour, and with your white shift, and the way the moonlight illuminated your skin…forgive me, but when I laid eyes on you, I believed you might be a ghost, and it gave me a terrible fright!”
Caroline uttered a shaky laugh, relieved. “No, child, I am not a ghost…although I fear I have come quite close to becoming one, as you have frightened me nearly to death! Even so, I suppose the fault is entirely mine. I am a guest, and it would no doubt be considered dreadfully impertinent and irregular of me to blithely walk the halls in the night as though I own the place.”
The girl tilted her head to one side curiously. “You are Caroline Lloyd, are you not?”
She chuckled, her fear rapidly dissipating. “I find it most amusing that you should ask. How many English noblewomen are currently guests here that you might mistake me for another?”
The girl shrugged nonchalantly. “Four or five, but the others are confined to the dungeons, so I was worried you might have been one of them. Which would mean you had escaped, and I would have to raise the alarm accordingly.”
Caroline was quite taken aback by these words until she saw the mischievous smile tugging at the corners of the girl’s mouth and realized she was being made sport of.
She nodded, grinning. “Ah, yes, very droll indeed. I am indeed Caroline Lloyd. And who might you be?”
“I might be Princess Tra-La-La of the Fairy Folk, come to snatch any newborn babes from the castle and raise them in the wilds as my own,” the girl quipped. “But alas, I find that instead, I am merely Freya Campbell. The man you intend to marry is my older brother.”
“Then it is a great pleasure indeed to meet you,” Caroline said with a small curtsy, “and I will be happy to refer to you as ‘Princess Tra-La-La,’ if it would put you more at ease.”
Freya giggled. “It would, in fact, though I fear others would believe you to be quite mad.”
“I have no doubt they will think so anyway,” Caroline countered, “once they learn I was traipsing around the castle barely clothed at the witching hour.”
Freya gave her a reassuring smile. “I see no reason why anyone should have to know of such things. Not from me, at any rate.”
“You are too kind, Your Majesty,” she replied graciously. “Thank you. Though in fairness, I suppose I should mention that I am not altogether certain I do intend to marry your brother.”
“That’s quite all right,” Freya countered shrewdly. “Knowing him as I do, I’d say he probably harbors similar reservations about you.”
Caroline put her hands on her hips, feigning indignance. “Begging your pardon, Princess, but what, precisely, is that supposed to mean?”
Freya laughed. It was a delightfully musical sound, like wind chimes, and Caroline found that the girl’s presence—and her playful frankness—was very much putting her at ease. “Well, it certainly isn’t a reference to your hair color, Lady Caroline! He simply has a natural mistrust of the British in general, and nobles in particular.”
“Would he prefer I was a washerwoman, then?” Caroline joked.
“He might have an easier time trusting you if you were,” the girl retorted. “More accurately, he would no doubt prefer it if you were Ainsley Fletcher, though having known you for no more than a few minutes, I can honestly say I am glad indeed that you are not her.”
The comment piqued Caroline’s curiosity. She could scarcely help it; she was naturally inquisitive about the sort of woman Aodh was enamored with, though she was not entirely certain why that should be given her own lack of affection for him. “You do not care for your brother’s betrothed, I take it?”
“I believe she is a hateful woman wearing the mask of a dull one,” Freya answered smartly, “and that once she has married him, the mask will fall, and he will bitterly rue the day he accepted her proposal.”
Caroline’s eyebrows shot up. “Her proposal? You mean to say she asked him to marry?”
“Not directly,” Freya clarified conspiratorially, “but you know how manipulative women of her sort can be, planting ideas in the heads of men and all the while letting them believe such notions were their own. Surely you have such predatory creatures in England as well?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, as a matter of fact, we do. Indeed, I would venture a guess that such women are to be found in every part of the world.”
Freya frowned, giving the matter serious thought. “I suppose you are probably right.”
“If she is such a ghastly specimen,” Caroline asked, “then what, pray tell, does your brother see in her?”
Freya shrugged again. “She’s pretty enough, I suppose. Not as pretty as she tries to be, perhaps, but pretty enough to turn his head…and he’s never much concerned himself with those sorts of superficial frills, if you take my meaning.”
Caroline was not entirely certain that she did, but she still nodded encouragingly.
“She makes a great show of being uncomplicated, agreeable, and easy to get along with,” Freya went on. “Which appeals to him, I think, because he is already so preoccupied with being a good laird that he scarcely has any attention left to give anything else. Other women might object to a husband who was like that…and she might object too, in the fullness of time, though I suppose we’ll see about that. Overall, I’d say that she has convinced him she is all he deserved. Or, perhaps more accurately, he has convinced himself of it, and she has encouraged that point of view in every way she can think of.”
“Good heavens, that sounds like a rather sad state of affairs,” Caroline said truthfully. “Have you tried to discuss it with him?”
Freya laughed. “Of course not! What good would that do?”
“Well, you clearly care about him a great deal, and you are his sister, so no doubt he would trust your judgment.”
“I am his sister, and he loves me dearly and would do positively anything to protect me,” she acknowledged. “However, men in general—and men like Aodh in particular—do not respond well to being told they are making a mistake. Especially when it comes to affairs of the heart. To alert them to that fact is often a mistake, as it provokes their natural sense of stubbornness, causing them to dig their heels in even more.”
“You sound as though you are discussing the habits of an animal much like a donkey!” Caroline laughed.
Freya joined in her mirth. “I do, don’t I? And perhaps I am, in a way. Men are a hardheaded lot. ‘Tis not their fault, I expect. From birth, they are told that they must be decisive in all things and never allow a woman to sway their opinion from what they firmly believe to be true. Is it any wonder, then, that our clans should constantly seem to be at war with each other when all of them are led by men?”
The Englishwoman tilted her head, amused. “You are quite the philosophical type, aren’t you?”
“You mean ‘for an ignorant Highland barbarian’?” Freya teased.
“I will admit, my initial impressions of the Scottish have changed somewhat since my arrival,” Caroline said, blushing.
The girl beamed. “I am glad to hear that, truly. At any rate, on the subject of men, regrettably, the only course of action is generally to sit back and allow them to make their mistakes as they will, so that we may console them whilst pretending we did not silently predict such outcomes.”
“I should very much like to meet a man someday who does not behave in such a manner.”
“And as Princess of the Fairy Folk, I should very much like for every one of my subjects to have their weight in rubies and a winged horse to carry them,” Freya retorted smartly. “But alas, I find such a prospect most unlikely.”
Caroline beamed at her, then yawned. “I suppose I must return to my chamber so that I might rest for tomorrow and give my best impression to your brother…not that it will do much good, if he is already smitten with another.”
“You never know,” the girl said slyly. “Do sleep well, and I shall look forward to seeing you when we are both up again!”
Caroline went to her room and curled up in bed again, still chuckling to herself about her exchange with Freya and wondering why Aodh could not be as charming and sensible as his sister.
