Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

"Caelan Lennox! Laird MacNicols! Come outside and face me as a man! Or I will tear through yer gates and find ye m'self!" The voice of Bram Ainslie boomed through the air. How it was possible for one man to be so very loud, Caelan was not sure.

He stood at the window, overlooking the gate, confusion etched into his face. From there, he saw the men lined up behind the Laird of MacLoughty. It was a threat or perhaps a promise; he could not be sure about that either. But one thing was certain; it had been quite a ride to come here for nothing more than to talk.

"What could he want?" his mother asked in a low voice from behind him. He turned to look at her, shaking his head. His eyes drifted to his younger sister, Maisie, who was unusually quiet. With narrowed eyes, he watched her, wondering what could be occupying her mind that would keep her so silent.

Turning back to look outside, he frowned. It makes no sense.

He had been alerted earlier of Bram Ainslie approaching. His entourage could be seen from some distance away against the rolling green hills. Any feuds this man had with the Lennox Clan had died alongside his father. At no point in time had there been any conflict. In fact, Caelan had almost all but forgotten about the Laird of MacLoughty since.

So, why is he here? And with so many?

Was it a fight that Bram Ainslie had brought to the gates of Castle MacNicols? It didn't make much sense to attack Caelan, here within the formidable towering walls. He had hundreds of men at his disposal here, even more in the town that sat just a bit in the west. No one would attack, especially with so few men in tow. So, why?

"Where is Jamie?" He looked to look at his sister.

"How should I ken? I'm nae his mother."

Caelan sighed and started for the door. "Ye both wait inside until this is settled," he said as he reached for the handle. Glancing over his shoulder, he eyed his sister once more with a furrowed brow. "I mean ye in particular, Sister. Stay inside. For once, can ye listen?"

Maisie raised her brows. "Aye, I hear ye. Go on then."

Caelan found Jamie already waiting for him outside. The man turned to him. The scar across his face seemed more red in the sunlight. With a nod, he paused at his side. "Did ye hear anythin' about all this?"

Jamie shook his head. "The old fool is ramblin' on and on. Hard to make much sense of it, ye ken? Sounds much like ye do after a few too many cups."

Caelan frowned and took a step forward. "Open the gate!"

His words pierced through the air, and the guards rushed to obey. Most times, he was a quiet man, but when his voice raised, people moved, and they listened. The heavy iron gates creaked and groaned, slowly swinging open. A moment of silence followed.

A soft mist began to fall, covering the entire scene in a haze. It was cold against his skin as he moved. At least fifty men on horse, a carriage, the Laird… This was not an invasion; it was meant to be intimidating. But to him, it was an annoyance. A pest that he wished to swat away and be done with.

The wind rushed past Caelan, whispering in his ear as it tousled his hair. "What is the meanin' of this?!" he called out as he walked onward with Jamie close behind. With his hand on the hilt of his blade, he eyed the Laird of MacLoughty and kept his emotions steady. "Explain yerself."

Leona watched from the carriage window, all but leaning out of the small window to catch a glimpse. Behind her, her mother tugged at her gown to get her to sit, but she refused to move. "I want to watch."

"I swear, child. Why, ye might as well just go outside at this point."

"Good idea, Ma," Leona nodded as she opened the door.

Her mother reached out to stop her. "Daenae ye dare!"

Leona stretched as soon as her feet fell on the soft, wet ground. A fine, gentle brume hovered in the air. Turning to where her father sat upon his horse, she looked past him as the gates swung open.

The air seemed to change, charged with an electric current that sent shivers down her spine. And then, her eyes landed on him– Caelan Lennox, standing tall and commanding attention with his presence alone.

He called out then, his voice rumbling.

Tall and statuesque, he was unlike any man she had seen before. His silhouette cut through the mist as he stepped forward, his head high and his shoulders back. His dark hair cascaded in waves to his shoulders. The slight hint of dark stubble he wore only accentuated his rugged jawline and chin, perfectly sculpted as if chiseled into place.

But it was his eyes that held her transfixed, even from a safe distance. They were cold gray, like old stones that had endured centuries of rain and wind. They pierced through the fog with an intensity that made her want to look away from him. For the briefest of moments, their eyes met, and she felt the breath being knocked out of her. She couldn't look away from him.

Leona had heard of him, of course. But she had never seen him or bothered to ask what he looked like. This came as a surprise. He is like the main character in one of me books . She watched as he stopped before her father, still unable to turn her gaze away.

"Leona, get inside–" her mother called to her.

"Explain what ye have done to me daughter!" her father called out from atop his horse. Leona watched with wide eyes. Lurching forward with her hand out as if she meant to stop him, she saw him toss a crumpled piece of paper directly at Laird MacNicols.

Caelan Lennox caught it mid-air and slowly, painstakingly unfolded it.

Leona watched in horror, tempted, at that moment, to return to the carriage and hide. "I have never met yer daughter in m–" he stopped himself as he read the letter, his eyes narrowing over the contents. The man turned his gaze directly to her, those cold eyes pinning her in place.

She could not look away.

"Ye cannot lie that ye daenae ken her! Those words written with yer seal show that ye had the worst intentions toward her!" Her father's voice boomed. In the distance, thunder grumbled in agreement.

Caelan Lennox did not take his eyes off her despite how much she wished he would. The heaviness of his stare was bearing down and making her knees feel like they might buckle. Finally, he released her and turned his focus back on her father.

Leona let out a breath that she did not realize she had been holding. Behind her, her mother emerged from the carriage in a huff. "I cannae believe the nerve of ye, lass."

"Ye planned to ruin her, to disrespect me name and kin. Ye planned to ruin her reputation knowin' she is promised to another!" her father called out as he slid down from his horse. Caelan Lennox stood much taller, but he did not match the same energy. Where her father was a wildfire of emotions, Laird MacNicols stood unwavering with an almost blank expression.

Father's about to get himself killed, and it's me fault.

With Lennox was another man, not as tall but seemingly just as muscular. He had been disfigured; his face appeared almost burned on the one side. His auburn hair was tied back, though strands seemed to rebel and fall to frame his face. If it were not for the state of his face, he might have been very handsome.

But the person behind them, almost creeping in the shadows drew her attention most right then. The young woman was tall and lean, her body almost straight like a stick. Her raven hair fell in waves around her, reaching her middle. The young woman's gaze was fixed on Leona, and she knew why.

"Maisie," Leona whispered under her breath.

Leona jumped when she felt a hand fall on her shoulder. She turned with wide eyes. Graham was shaking his head at her incredulously. "What are ye doin', bampot? Go back in the carriage. This could get bloody fast."

"I ken it could," she said softly. "That's why I need to be out here."

He sighed and looked past her. "Promise me that if it goes south, ye'll make like a bird and fly out of here. I have heard of Lennox's reputation; he's nae a man who should be talked to in such a way. Father is likely to get himself hurt or worse."

"Can ye do anythin', Graham?" The desperation in her voice was quiet.

He shook his head and stood rooted to the spot. "Nay, 'tis nae m' place."

She understood but still couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. "This is all m' fault," she whispered, turning to watch as her father continued to spit words at Caelan. I have to do something.

"Aye, 'tis. But daenae go doin' anythin' foolish, Sister. Ye will likely make things worse before better," Graham turned his gaze towards Lennox and his companion, his eyes narrowing in thought. "I wouldnae wish to go against them. Lennox and Jamie Nimmo are both nae to be made light of."

"Ye ken of them both?"

Graham nodded, his eyes never wavering from the men. "Aye. Both are seasoned in battle, much more than m'self. I daenae ken if it is just a rumor, but I have heard they fought off twenty men together. Tore through them like nothin'. And to see them now," he paused, his eyes flashing to her for a moment. "I believe it all even more."

Leona swallowed hard. "Do ye think they'll–"

Her father drew his sword. There was a collective gasp from those behind him, though Lennox and Nimmo seemed unphased by the threat. Her father's voice boomed, "Ye will either marry her, or ye will die!"

"What?!" Leona shot an incredulous look at Maisie, who stood there just as shocked as she felt. A murmur rumbled through the air, voices whispering cut through the silence that had followed her father's demands.

Her friend shook her head, silently sharing the same confusion and astonishment. Maisie Lennox glanced at her brother, her mouth slightly open as her face twisted and her eyes narrowed. She was watching to see how he would react. "Brother–"

Caelan held up a hand to silence her.

Nay, nay, nay! This was nae supposed to happen!

Leona stepped forward, determined to figure out some way to make this right. As she pressed on towards her father, she watched in horror as Caelan Lennox drew his own blade in an effortless flourish. I need to stop this now! She ignored the quieted protests from her mother and brother as she came to her father's side. "Please! Please, Laird MacNicols. I beg of ye, daenae hurt him. Let me explain!"

She could envision the quick slice that would silence her father once and for all. Leona inwardly prayed that Bram Ainslie would keep his mouth shut for once in his life. But those prayers went unheard or were simply ignored. Her father was ready to explode with rage; he looked like a pot about to boil over and cause even more of a mess. "Father, please!"

And then she heard it, the clanking of metal. Her skirts whirled around her, and her hair whipped through the air as she turned quickly to the sound with her heart in her throat. Leona's eyes fell to the ground before Lennox, her brow furrowed in confusion. What the…?

Laird MacNicols had dropped his sword. His hand was out, palm open, facing the ground where his blade laid in the dirt and grass. Caelan Lennox wore a smirk that made her stomach knot and churn.

"I…I daenae understand," she whispered, her eyes meeting his.

"There is nay a reason to deny it," he told her. His voice was deep.

Deny what?

Leona blinked and found herself completely speechless. He had taken the words from her, leaving her mouth hanging open without a sound. She narrowed her eyes. Was this some kind of trick? Was he mocking her right now?

Caelan took a step forward, and it was as if the entire world stopped. Everything else around them vanished, he demanded and controlled her focus, and she couldn't look away. His eyes, even more cold and haunting with the distance closing between them, held her hostage.

Though only a few moments passed in silence, Leona could swear that time rushed past her. Her legs felt weak, her heart was pounding in her ears, she could feel the blood coursing through her veins. She was both entranced and terrified of the man who now stood only a few feet from her. Look away. Please just turn away.

The wind picked up then, tugging at her skirt and playing with her hair. Leona's heart sank as Caelan Lennox's expression curled. He looked almost amused to see her so unnerved. "There is no hidin' or denyin' it, me love . Let us be man and wife," his voice rattled through her entire being. "Marry me."