Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Leona groaned and stretched out in the bed, the covers shifting over and around her. With a yawn, she found herself looking across the room to where the sunlight beamed through the window. Did we sleep at all?

The entire night and earliest hours of the morning had been spent talking in quiet whispers, eating raspberries, and questions about the future. If she had to be honest, Leona couldn't sleep even after Maisie did.

All she could think about was Caelan. Did he think she'd be a good lass? Did she want to be a good lass for her betrothed?

Yer fake betrothed.

Leona shook away the thought and struggled to get herself out of bed. She sat up, her legs dangling over the edge of the mattress, her feet barely touching the floor.

"If I have to be awake, then ye do as well," she told Maisie as a way to distract herself. Her friend was asleep and buried under the covers still. "Daenae make me face them all alone."

Maisie slowly pulled the covers down and glared at her. Leona suppressed the burst of laughter at the sight of her friend's hair. The mess of black waves tangled around her head, sitting high like a crooked cap. "I could sleep all day."

"Aye, so could I, but we daenae have that luxury."

Leona stood and padded across the floor; her steps quickened when she realized just how cold the stone underneath her was. She moved to the window and glanced outside, taking in the scene with a sleepy smile.

MacNicols sat high on a hill overlooking the Isle of Raasay. The water was shades of blue and green with gentle waves that seemed more like ripples. Golden, hazy clouds stretched across the endless sky as the sun began to rise, peeking behind the hills.

She was ripped from contemplating the scenery by a knock on the door. Slowly, it opened, and a young woman with reddish hair entered. The maid smiled sweetly at Leona and then turned her attention to Maisie. "Mistress, are ye nae well? Should I fetch the healer?"

"No, I just daenae wish to leave m'bed."

Leona offered an apologetic smile. "We were up late into the night."

"Are ye a friend of Mistress Maisie then?"

"She is marryin' me brother soon," Maisie shot up then, excitement coursing through her veins. Her hair remained a mess around her shoulders, and her eyes were wide. She looked absolutely unhinged and Leona couldn't help but stifle a laugh. Maisie looked at her. "Leona, ye're goin' to be me sister!"

Leona grinned. "Aye, I suppose so."

"But wait, Leo, what about the other lad? The Mackie?"

Leona frowned. She had completely forgotten about him. "Father will have likely sent word already."

It was only a few short months ago that she was promised to Ewan Mackie. A friend of her father's and, in truth, someone she herself viewed as a friend as well. He was a man who built himself up from near nothing, stepping on the crumbled walls of his Clan to make a name for himself.

Though Leona admired him for what he had done, there was no love there and no attraction. In a way, she felt relieved.

"Well, to be sure, me brother is a better match."

"Ye're marryin' Caelan?" The maid asked, her tone oddly flat.

"Aye, she is. Ye're lookin' at the future Lady MacNicols, Flora."

Leona wasn't sure how she felt about the title, but the idea of being this close to one of her most treasured friends was enough to warm her heart.

She had always wanted a sister, but it was never truly in the cards for her. Now, she would have one if she followed through with this marriage.

She turned to look at the maid, Flora. Leona couldn't quite read the look on her lovely face, but something told her there was more behind the painted smile and light brown eyes.

"Well, let's get ye dressed then," Flora said stiffly.

Leona's trunk had been brought to Maisie's room yesterday evening, so she dug through it, trying to find something suitable to wear.

Her mind began to race with the realization that in a short time, her entire family would be leaving for home, and she would be here. Perhaps I can stow away.

She settled on a simple gown. The fabric was a dark navy color. Flora stood in front of her, tightening the strings of her bodice with her eyes downcast. Leona was tempted to ask if she had done something to deserve this oddly cold treatment, but she decided against it.

"Ye have never once shown any interest in marriage," Jamie said as he took a swing at the laird, his wooden blade clashing against Caelan's. With a grunt, Jamie pushed back and cursed under his breath, sweat dripping into his eyes. The scars on his face almost glowed red, looking more prominent.

Leona had been in the castle for one night and was already plaguing his mind. Like most mornings, Caelan and Jamie had met in the yard for an early practice, but this felt different somehow. He couldn't seem to focus. She's ruinin' practice, and she is nae even out of bed yet. His thoughts shifted to his sister, who he had decided definitely owed him for putting up with such foolery. It could be worse. At least me betrothed is easy on the eyes.

Caelan lunged forward with a strong, swift strike. His sparring blade whistled through the air, striking Jamie hard in the side. Jamie did not waver; the impact seemed to only make him more determined. They exchanged blows, their swords clashing in rhythm, the sound echoing through the morning mist.

With a quick feint, he changed the angle of the attack, and his sword came down with a satisfying thud on Jamie's shoulder. Shouting some less-than-gentlemanlike phrases, Jamie stumbled back and dropped his own blade. "All right, ye damn flauntin' arse," he bent over, breathing heavily with his hands on his knees. "I yield, ye son of a–"

"Son of a what, Jamie Nimmo?" Sophie Lennox's voice pierced through the air. Caelan watched, quietly amused, as his man-at-arms jumped nearly out of his skin.

Jamie, struggling to compose himself. "Son of a… bonnie lass. Aye, truly the bonniest within the Isle of Skye. I can say that there is none so fair."

His mother turned her attention to Caelan, her brows raised and her mouth tight. This was the look she did while trying to hide her own amusement; it was just subtle enough that he caught it.

"What is it?" Caelan asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

She tilted her head. "Laird and Lady Macloughty are soon to be on their way. Ye best clean yerself up and say yer farewells," his mother then shot Jamie a sharp look. "And ye as well, Jamie. I willnae have ye both lookin' so feral among partin' guests."

She turned and walked along the stone path back inside the castle. Jamie turned then, a crooked grin on his face. "Ye see that? I think she likes me," he stepped back, anticipating the blow before it came. Caelan cursed at him, and then the two headed towards the door.

The castle had come alive by the time they stepped within the walls. All around them, servants rushed to prepare breakfast and provisions for the guests' journey back to MacLoughty.

"We best make sure everythin' is settled for this weddin'," he said to Jamie with a frown. "If I daenae marry Bram Ainslie's daughter, there might be blood spilled. He would take it as an insult."

"Speakin' of insults..."

Right, she was betrothed before. "Send the poor lad an invitation."

"I heard it was to Ewan Mackie."

Caelan shrugged. "I daenae care who it was, just invite him."

"Aye, I will. But," Jamie sighed. "Ye daenae even ken the lass."

"Aye, but that can change," he shrugged. "Ye daenae have to ken the person. It's out of duty, and it will be good for the clan. For them both."

Jamie stopped, about to turn towards his room. He hesitated, his mouth twisting a bit as he fought the urge to speak. "Never have ye expressed an interest; ye've been opposed to the very idea. And now," he shook his head. "Caelan, are ye certain of this?"

Caelan couldn't help but smile. "Ye're nae wrong, m'friend. But, marryin' the enemy's daughter is somethin' even I cannae say no to."

Once Leona was dressed, she walked alongside Maisie to the front gates. Her father's men and the carriage were being prepped for the journey home, and she watched, almost wishing she could sneak in with them somewhere. Sensing this, her friend squeezed at her arm, almost hanging off her, while grinning. "Ye'll see them soon enough, ye ken?"

Leona's smile didn't quite meet her eyes. "Aye, at the weddin'."

"And ye will be the most beautiful bride," her mother chimed in as she approached. She reached out, wrapping her arms around Leona and holding her close. "We'll be back soon, me dear. Behave yerself."

Leona sighed. "I shall make no promises."

"I command it," her mother stepped back, holding onto Leona's shoulders as she stared into her eyes. There was something behind her gaze, something that was both apologetic and hopeful. "Now, go say farewell to yer brother and father. Show them how the future Lady MacNicols would part with them."

With a wicked smile, Leona took a step back and turned to where her father and Graham were seated on their horses. She walked up to them, her head high and shoulders back. At that moment, she carried herself like a woman with that title, as if those two were beneath her.

"Finally, ye're actin' the part." her brother teased her while her father smiled proudly.

Tilting her head to the side, her eyes narrowed. This was her own fault, of course, but it could have been resolved back home if only he had listened to her. "When this comes back to bite ye in the arse, I hope ye will remember that I told ye–"

"Laird MacLoughty, I bid ye safe travels," Caelan's voice interrupted her lecture, and she turned to face him. Annoyed, she shut her mouth and forced herself to keep her thoughts to herself.

Her father nodded at him, dismissing her entirely. "Take care of her."

"Of course, I intend to," Caelan said in a flat tone, but the slight curl of his mouth hinted at something else. Leona stared up at him, her eyes wide.

As her father urged his horse forward, Caelan turned around slowly towards the castle. He eyed her for the briefest of moments, a smirk flashing across his face, before leaving her in his wake.