Highlander’s False Betrothal by Alisa Adams

6

Edmund had been Aodh’s closest and most crucial advisor ever since the laird had been a boy, one saddled with the title far earlier than he should have been, perhaps, after the scandal that had forced Dand to step down. Aodh had come to see Edmund as a second father, and he always appreciated the man’s wisdom and input. In any other matter, Edmund’s perspective would be more valuable to Aodh than anyone else’s.

But not this one.

Because above all, Edmund was sensible, and he always believed in erring on the side of caution. And, of course, this arranged marriage was his idea.

So naturally, if presented with the details of this scheme, he would do all he could to try to talk Aodh out of it.

Aodh had no doubt that if he chose to go through with Caroline’s plan, Edmund would keep it a secret regardless of whether he approved or not.

No, it was just that he didn’t need anyone to highlight all of the things that might go wrong if he agreed to Caroline’s proposal. He needed the insight of someone closer to his age. Someone less stuffy, who would understand why it was so important to him to find a way to make peace between the Campbells and Lord George without going through with an official marriage.

Someone whose thinking was a bit more modern, limber, and enlightened.

Someone like Quinn Barclay.

Making friends—real friends, not merely people who were nice to him due to his title and station—had never been easy for Aodh. He had been serious-minded even before his parents had been killed, and his years of captivity thanks to his uncle had not made him more trusting or less socially awkward.

But shortly after he’d been returned to his own lands as a boy—the first time he’d been told he would be laird, before Dand had returned from his life of wandering—he had been training in the courtyard in the middle of the night, swinging a wooden practice sword in the moonlight and quietly trying to make sense of the strange paths his life had taken.

He had taken in the entire courtyard around him mere moments before, including the area behind him. It was a good fifty yards between him and the shadowy cover provided by the nearest stone wall. There was no way he could imagine anyone covering that distance so swiftly and silently.

So Aodh had been surprised by the sudden sound of another wooden sword whistling through the air behind him—so surprised, in fact, that even with his sharp reflexes, he’d barely had time to block the swing.

A boy his own age was holding the practice sword, his mouth set into a grim line even as his eyes gleamed with amusement.

“You tried to strike me.” Aodh was astonished. Not only was he unable to fathom anyone moving that fast, but he was impressed by the boy’s stance and style and by the fact that no one else who lived in the castle or the surrounding lands would have dared to attack him in such a brazen manner.

The boy simply nodded. “I wanted to see how fast you were.”

“And if I had not been?” Aodh demanded.

He thought it over for a moment, then shrugged. “Then I suppose I would be the new laird, wouldn’t I?”

Aodh had stared at him incredulously, and then, for a child as somber as he was, he did the unthinkable.

He laughed.

He threw his head back and laughed longer and louder than he could ever remember laughing before.

It had turned out that the other boy’s name was Quinn and that he was the son of one of the servants who worked in the kitchen. Quinn wanted more than anything to be a great warrior someday. Like Aodh, he constantly trained, honing his skills for the day when they might bring him honor and glory in the name of his clan.

Quinn and Aodh had sparred for the rest of the night and for many nights to come as they both grew older. Quinn fulfilled his dream of becoming a mighty and respected soldier and had distinguished himself many times over, especially over the course of the past month, which would doubtless also give him a useful perspective regarding this potential match (or rather, unmatch) with the daughter of Lord George.

Now he sat in the chamber of his comrade in arms, waiting for Quinn to respond to what he had just been told about the situation. Although his honors had won him the chance to have a cottage and land of his own, Quinn had refused, requesting instead that he be appointed to the position of captain of the castle guard. Aodh had insisted that he deserved far more, but Quinn was adamant; he wished to always be at hand to protect his dear friend, and Aodh was deeply touched by his concern.

“Frankly, Aodh,” Quinn said after a long pause, “I’m surprised you allowed things to go this far to begin with. To allow Edmund to persuade you to marry an Englishwoman? Let alone the spawn of that wretched ponce George Lloyd? If you’d only come to me before now, I might have told you how daft the whole thing is, and then you wouldn’t need to come up with some sly way out of it.”

“I was too ashamed.”

The words were out of Aodh’s mouth before he even realized that he meant them.

Quinn’s face did not change, but his eyes spoke volumes. He knew exactly what those words meant and how difficult it was for someone like Aodh to say them. He did not answer; he simply waited for Aodh to continue to unburden himself as he needed.

“We have lost so many under my leadership,” Aodh went on. He lowered his eyes, unable to meet Quinn’s gaze. “Most of those men…you knew them even better than I did. They weren’t nobles. They were soldiers. Like you.”

“You are also a soldier, Aodh,” Quinn pointed out. “I know you feel that your noble birth robs you of that distinction no matter how much you fight and train, but even so.”

“Their lives were my responsibility, and they are gone now because I was neither strong enough nor wise enough to save them,” Aodh answered. “Edmund offered me a way to make it stop, and yes, Quinn, I should have asked for your counsel then. But after all of the battles we had fought side by side, I could not face you and admit that I could come up with no other way for us to win this one. That my only other choice was to see you slaughtered, along with all of our sworn kinsmen.”

Quinn stood and stepped forward, putting a hand on Aodh’s shoulder. “The battles we have fought side by side, my friend, are the reason why you should have come to me. The English are a pack of snobby shites without a shred of true honor in them, Aodh. They do not know the meaning of the word, though they toss it around cheaply enough in their drawing rooms and dinner parties. Their word means nothing. To them, we are nothing but vermin, meant to be stomped out and exterminated. We know George bloody high-and-mighty Lloyd feels that way. Is there any doubt his daughter does as well?”

Aodh thought about the comments Caroline made during the hike toward the loch. “I suspect that she might, aye.”

“Then to go to bed with her is to risk having your throat cut in your sleep,” Quinn told him earnestly. “And laddie, that is something I cannot save you from…not as the captain of your guard, nor even as the servant who sees to your piss pot. You will be at risk.”

“She is no assassin, Quinn,” Aodh assured him with a laugh.

“It is my job as your guard—and my duty as your friend—to assume that any enemy who wants to sleep in a bed next to you wants to make sure you never wake up,” he countered, raising an eyebrow. “And might I add that if Caroline doesn’t kill you, Ainsley probably will? I can save you from one or the other, perhaps, but if you truly expect me to foil them both…”

“All right, so this proposal was a dreadful idea from the start,” Aodh admitted. “Nevertheless, this is where I find myself now, and I require your advice. Should I marry her in fact or in fiction? Or should I do neither and doom us to more war and potential extinction?”

Quinn sighed, letting his hand fall from Aodh’s shoulder. He paced the room for a few minutes, stroking his red beard and thinking. Then he let out a dry cough and stood before Aodh again, his emerald eyes drilling into the laird’s.

“If I were in your position, Aodh? Not only would I not marry the wee bitch, I’d wait for her and her odious shite of a father to depart from our lands so that they were no longer under our hospitality, mind you, and I’d have a dozen men out there in the Highlands, myself included, waiting for them to pass so that we might cut them down. The war would be over, and counting their guards, that would be six less Brits wasting air that might be breathed by good Scottish men.”

“I cannot do that,” Aodh said.

Quinn gave him a tired smile. “No, old friend. I know full well that you cannot. Your soul is shaped…differently, I think, from my own. Perhaps that is why you are more suited to the title of laird. Now that you find yourself in this position, though, I suppose my best counsel would be to do whatever it takes to get yourself out of it as quickly as possible. And if that means agreeing to this false marriage scheme, well, then so be it. If there is anything I can do to help you in that, I hope you will let me know. Because, from the sound of it, you will require all the assistance you can get.”

Aodh smiled, clapping Quinn on the back. “Thank you, my friend. I knew that I could count on you. I suppose I had better give Caroline my answer, then, so that we may get this farce over with.”

“Oh, but as long as you are seeking my counsel,” Quinn added, “there is one more warning I would offer.”

“Yes?”

Quinn gave him a lopsided grin. “Once the nuptials have concluded, you may want to have chambers separate from hers. I assume that once this sham has been annulled, you might wish to conceive heirs with your beloved Ainsley, and you may find it hard to do so with your manhood chopped off and tossed into the chamber pot by that British harpy you intend to wed.”

Aodh chuckled humorlessly. “Again, thank you. For the admonition, and for that delightful mental image as well.”

He left Quinn’s chambers and proceeded to Caroline’s. Then he stood before her door for several moments, deep in thought.

This was it.

If he chose to knock and agree to her plan, there would be no turning back. He would be committing himself to standing before an altar and speaking vows he had no intention of honoring. He would be entering into matrimony knowing that it would come to nothing within a short matter of years.

He had always considered the institution of wedlock to be a sacred one. As far as he was concerned, it was an undertaking no one should enter into without being wholly certain that they would live out the rest of their years with the person they were standing next to. Could he truly say the words, knowing they were a lie? What sort of laird would that make him?

Then again,he thought bitterly, what sort of laird would it make me if I prize my own honor above the lives of my soldiers? What kind of laird will I be if I lead good men like Quinn into a bloodbath, knowing there can be no hope of victory?

Before he could answer that question in his own mind, the door opened, and Caroline stood before him, her eyebrows raised quizzically.

“Well? Are you going to come in and tell me what you have decided, you silly man, or do you intend to lurk outside my chamber all evening?”

“It would be inappropriate for me to be seen entering your chamber,” he told her flatly.

She made a great show of peering up and down the empty hall. “Seen by whom?”

“Very well,” he elaborated through clenched teeth. “Then it would be inappropriate for me to enter your chamber, whether seen or unseen.”

“If that is what you meant,” she said, “you might just as well have said so.” She stepped out into the corridor, leaving the door open behind her. “Now then, have you arrived at a conclusion you wish to share?”

“I have.” He cleared his throat. “I…accept your proposal.”

She beamed at him, then embraced him impetuously. “Oh, thank you! You shall see, Aodh, that this will be best for everyone involved! Our families will prosper, and eventually, so will we!”

He found that he was smiling in spite of himself. Her enthusiasm was strangely infectious, and he enjoyed the feeling of her arms wrapped around his body, her heart beating rapidly against his chest. Her grip was firm, yet she felt oddly delicate pressed against him, like a bird.

“I am glad to see that you are pleased,” he laughed, returning her embrace stiffly.

Perhaps it was the tickle of her breath against his neck when she hugged him. Perhaps it was the lightness of her form, the intoxicating scent of her hair.

In that moment, her excitement was enticing. Seductive.

When she pulled away—not entirely, just enough to gaze into his eyes—he felt a sharp and sudden pull between them, a force that seemed to draw them together with the heady inevitability of nature itself.

He could not fathom why, but he was possessed with an overwhelming desire to pull her close again.

To kiss her.

And he could see that same desire reflected in her eyes, as clear and certain as a sunrise.

No,he warned himself sternly. You must not confuse the matter. There is far too much at stake. She has a lovely face, yes, and at times a keen mind. But she is an Englishwoman just the same. And besides, you have promised yourself to Ainsley. She has offered you a chance to save what remains of your clan. Take it, and do not introduce further complication to an already sticky situation.

Aodh pulled himself away from her with great difficulty, then bowed awkwardly, unsure of what else to do. “We can discuss the particulars of our ceremony tomorrow,” he said. “Until then, my lady, I bid you goodnight. And again, thank you.”

Caroline nodded. Her lips were pressed shut tightly, as though she was struggling to keep something trapped behind them. “Thank you as well. This will be for the best. You’ll see.”

He hesitated, then turned and withdrew, wondering whether he had made the right choice.