Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Leona turned in front of the mirror, watching as the dark blue tones of the dress swayed with each movement. She had spent the rest of the afternoon thinking of all the ways she could take her petty revenge on him. His words played like a tune in her mind. Each time she lingered on them, she became more and more fiery.

In her mind, she thought of all the retorts she wished she had come out with in the moment; it seemed that all the best ones came to her after the fact. With a sigh, she stood still and eyed her face in the reflection. She held her head high, determined to make him look as foolish as she had felt in the study.

Maisie knocked at her door before peeking inside. Her friend grinned, her smile brighter than the sun, and rushed to her. "Ye look bonnie as can be, Leo," she said, motioning for Leona to turn. She did, showing off the fine detail in the gown.

Leona, admittedly, had not packed it. She was certain that her own maid, Marion, had done so while helping. If it weren't for the situation she was in, she doubted that she would've bothered to wear it, but now she found herself thankful.

"Is it m' brother ye're tryin' to impress?" Maisie winked.

It was true. She wanted him to look at her, to see her looking her best as she sat next to him. Leona wanted him to look at her, and she intended to meet him with the same coldness. She would be as frigid as a winter's breeze.

Leona snorted. "How can one man be so insufferable?"

"Ye have a brother; ye should ken it well."

Graham was nowhere as obnoxious or infuriating. Leona might have had moments where her older brother pestered her, but he had never said something so cold– even if he had felt it.

Leona wondered what Caelan was like with Maisie. She had only heard things of him from Graham and her father. Their words about how he was bloodthirsty and battle-hungry he was.

"Is he like this with ye?" she asked.

Maisie shook her head. "Nay, he's usually much quieter. Brooding often. Ye must be gettin' under his skin," she smiled. "I've seen him more the past two days than in the last month. Usually, he dines alone in the study; he seems to live there. I wouldnae be surprised if he slept there as well."

Leona was met with the image of Caelan, sitting at his desk with his head resting on the surface, the soft hush of his breathing. Illuminated by the glow of the fireplace, casting an amber sheet over the room and himself. She shook the thought away and frowned. Why does he have to be so handsome?

"Oh!"

She looked at her friend quickly, shocked by the sudden outburst.

"I wrote to Isobel," Maisie grinned.

Leona smiled at the thought of the last member of their little group and then sighed. "Is she on her way then?"

"Oh, likely."

Arm-in-arm, they walked to the dining room and chatted. Maisie asked about what had happened in the study, surprised that he had let her even enter to view the books. Leona stared forward, thinking of the book she had opened, and tried her best not to turn red.

"I doubt he'd let me read his books," she frowned.

Maisie shrugged. "Perhaps ye should steal them too."

She had meant it as a joke, of course, but Leona truly did consider it.

Perhaps later tonight .

They walked through the doors and were met by Caelan and his mother in conversation. The words between them stopped, and both looked up to them, seemingly surprised. Whatever they had been discussing, it wasn't meant for her ears, apparently. She didn't mind. Maisie slipped away to the seat beside her mother, and Leona stood there, her face betraying her attempts at not making a scene.

The table was long, easily large enough to host a dozen people. But only four seats had been set. She knew her spot was there, right beside Caelan on his right. She eyed the chair as she walked, her head held high and her shoulders back.

He was watching her.

Caelan turned his head, his gaze following her as she moved. Quickly, he stood and stepped in her path. "Allow me," he said, his voice low and husky. His eyes met hers, and something passed between them, a tension so thick that not even a knife could slice through.

He pulled out her chair, standing behind it as she took a seat. Leaning forward, his face was at the side of her face; his breath was hot against her. Her heart skipped a beat as he painstakingly pushed her in; time seemed to slow, and she felt herself flush.

"Doesnae she look bonnie?" Maisie said, watching with a smile.

Caelan stepped aside and glanced down at her. "Aye, she does."

All of her plans seemed to wash away. Leona turned and looked at the grains of the wood on the table, following them to distract herself. Leona had intended to leave him speechless, not the other way around.

"We were just discussin' weddin' plans," Sophie said with a smile.

Leona returned the look, her brows raised. "Oh?"

"Caelan thinks it's wise to hold the celebration here."

Leona frowned. She had not put much thought into any aspect of the wedding aside from how to avoid it. But now, it seemed more and more unlikely that she could escape it.

Would it be that awful? Living here with Maisie, at least until Maisie was wed herself, and Sophie would be enjoyable enough. It was her future husband who was the issue.

Caelan seemed to be a mixture of hot and cold. There was simply no way to determine how he'd act with her. One moment, he was playful and teasing; the next, he seemed dismissive of her. Leona shot him a quick glance from the corner of her eye, watching as he took a sip from his cup.

Servants brought out plates and bowls before Leona replied anything, setting the table as the smell of the food filled the room. She stared down at her own plate, eying the baked fish with a tight frown.

"Are ye nae hungry, lass?" Sophie asked, concerned.

Leona shook her head. "Nay, 'tis nae that. I just… is there anywhere else the ceremonies could be held?"

"Here is where it will be held," Caelan said firmly.

Grabbing her filled glass of wine, Leona took a sip. Leona inwardly thanked her friend, knowing that Maisie had the perfect red drink brought for her specifically.

She honestly didn't care where the ceremony or the festivities occurred, but she did not want Caelan to have the final say. Having it back home was not a fair option, so where else could she suggest? Then it came to her. "How about Gleann Cloiche?"

Silence flooded the room. No one ate, drank, or spoke.

"Why would ye think that?" Caelan asked, his voice low.

Leona turned to him with a small smile. She could see he was working through it in his mind while mulling it over.

Gleann Cloiche was a small town, truly just a scattering of farmers, where a battle between their clans had taken place over two decades ago. Leona and Caelan's fathers had been at each other's throats for months; heated words turned into bloody action, and they met on the stone-covered grounds.

There had been no true winner of the battle; both sides had lost a considerable amount of men, and nothing was resolved by the fight. Though, by memory, her father liked to believe that the MacLoughty clan had come out of the bloodshed victorious.

"It could show a true joinin' of the clans," she said.

Caelan seemed to consider it, but he soon frowned. "We shall see."

That was better than a blatant no , but Leona was still determined to get her own way. "Me father would appreciate the sentiment," Leona pressed, watching him with a pre-triumphant smile. "I ken he wishes for our clans to become closer, with bonds deeper than any other."

"Our father is likely turnin' over in his grave," Maisie commented.

"Maisie!" Sophie shot her daughter a sharp look and then turned her attention to Leona, her face softening. "Forgive her, lass. It is just that…"

"I ken it, m' lady," Leona nodded, knowing full well of the feuds between their families and of her Caelan's father's reputation. "I just wish to see everyone happy."

It seemed from her lack of protest that Sophie was on her side about the location. Leona focused her attention on her betrothed, offering him a sweet and attentive smile. "What are yer thoughts, m'love?"

He glared at her. She could see his muscles up along his neck tighten. His jaw seemed to be locked on the piece of meat he had been chewing away at.

Caelan swallowed, set down his fork, and then stood up. As it was pushed out from behind him, his chair let out a loud screech. Looking around the table, he nodded at no one in particular before saying, "Excuse me, I've lost me appetite."

With that, he stormed from the room, leaving her sitting there with her glass halfway to her mouth. Leona, not missing a beat, stood up as well and turned to the other women at the table. "Please excuse me as well."

She rushed out into the hallway after him, her heels clicking against the floor as she rushed. His one step was easily three of her own, and she struggled to keep up as he continued to walk on.

"Will ye stop?"

"I daenae wish for ye to follow me," he said as he stared forward.

Leona frowned, hiking up the hemline of her gown to give her legs some more room to move freely. She trailed close behind, huffing and panting. The bodice around her was bound so tight, and she felt it now; her breaths were constricted and left little room for movement.

She was certain that he had left the table because of one simple matter: he did not wish to marry her. This she could accept, but he was playing along too well, and so many others would be hurt if this ruse continued. Leona reached out, grabbing a hold of his white shirt.

He stopped but did not turn to face her, "Leona, leave me be."

"Nay, ye listen to me, Caelan Lennox," her voice was firm, though breathless, and her temper was boiling over the edge. She gripped at the fabric tighter, refusing to release him. "If ye daenae wish to wed me, I understand. But this cannae go too far. It's nae us we'll likely be hurtin'."

Caelan glanced over his shoulder, his eye finding her. "What?"

"If ye wish to cancel the weddin', say so now," she urged.

He frowned, turning slowly to face her. Leona hesitated, but she dropped her hand. Caelan towered over her, shadows crossing over his handsome face. Behind him, through the large symmetrical windows, she could see the sunset beginning. The sky was shades of red, orange, and pink.

With a sigh, he said, "Leave me be, lass. We'll speak on this later."

With that, he left her there alone, going God knows where. Great .

" We'll speak of this later ," Leona muttered to herself with a touch of mockery in her tone. Her footsteps echoed to mirror her irritation, her fists were clenched, and her mouth tightened as his words resounded in her mind.

After he had left her, she had stepped out into the hallway, half tempted to demand more answers, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Realizing that she wouldn't have a word with her betrothed anytime soon, Leona decided then to explore the castle. After all, it was to be hers.

While wandering, Leona had already explored the kitchens, where she couldn't resist grabbing a pastry from one of the cooks, and she had also peeked to see the castle gardens– but it was growing too dark, so the flowers and plants were all darker tones. I'll come back to it .

Now, she found herself drawn to a particular place, one that captured and held her attention. A hallway of portraits, painted to the likeness of all the Lairds and Ladies of the castle.

She realized, as she stopped before the most recent one, that her own face would eventually end up on this wall.

Each portrait was done incredibly well, and it seemed evident that the Lennox family had deep roots within the castle. As she stood before the striking work, Leona couldn't help but admire the details.

Her eyes moved to the boy with cold, piercingly blue eyes. A young Caelan seemed stiff in his demeanor, a frown on his face, a small lad trying to appear older than his years.

Leona's focus fell to the hand on the boy's shoulder; the grip was firm and seemed to hold him in place.

"Are ye lost?" His voice echoed through the hallway.

Leona turned, looking at him with a frown. "Nay, I'm exploring."

His demeanor seemed more relaxed now. "And what have ye discovered?"

"Ye havenae changed much," she motioned to the painting.

He shook his head. "Nay, I suppose I havenae."

Caelan held out his hand. "Would ye care for a tour, lass?"

"What is there that ye can show me?"

He smirked. "I daenae ken. As I recall, ye've seen quite a bit ."

Leona blinked, not catching his meaning right away. Then realization washed over her, flooding her with warmth. Her whole body turned to fire, and her cheeks turned red. Quickly, she turned away from him.

"Ah, lass. I dinnae mean to embarrass ye," he said in a soft voice. Caelan took a step towards her, reaching out and taking her chin. He tilted her head upwards, meeting her eyes. "It willnae be the last time ye've seen me so bare."

Astonished, she gawked at him. "I beg yer pardon?"

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Leona," he said, his voice changing. How he said her name made her heart skip a beat; his voice was made to speak her name. He extended his hand and gently caressed the side of her face. "Ye turn such a lovely shade of red."

Watching her squirm at the simple words that escaped him was almost too much. Something about the flush of her cheeks and fierce and unrelenting irritability made him want more.

Want more? He frowned.

She was bonnie. There was no doubt about that. But she was also stubborn, more stubborn and fiery than any woman he'd met. Leona was warm; she was a fire in the cold. She was the sweet burn of whiskey that seemed to fill your soul.

"Caelan," she started, her eyes lowered to his mouth. "First…"

"First what?"

Leona pulled back, a brow raised. "Tell me why ye wish to marry me."

He wasn't expecting that. Caelan blinked and gave her an incredulous look, tilting his head to the side. "Are ye bein' serious right now, lass?"

"Aye, Caelan. I am. Explain it to me."

"If ye cannae tell me, then–"

"It is yer own recklessness that I have found m'self tryin' to correct."

Leona stood with a scoff. "Ye dinnae have to."

"And then what, lass? Start a war because yer father wanted me head for somethin' I havenae done? I did what had to be done to fix yer troubles. And now it'll fix it all. Everyone benefits."

"Everyone?"

"Aye, lass," he stood as well, looked down at her, and then leaned forward, his face inches from hers. Caelan could see the surprise in her eyes. The set of emeralds seemed to shimmer, and he couldn't look away. "Do ye nae think that this is benefitin' us all?"

"Nay," she whispered, her voice lacking conviction. It was obvious that she was doing everything within her power not to submit to him despite the undeniable tension between them.

"Ye stubborn wee witch," he chuckled.

Leona's eyes narrowed. "Ye--"

He couldn't help himself; he placed a finger against her lips, silencing her. She was shocked by this. A look of surprise crossed over her face.

Her lips are so soft .

He stared down at them; the annoyed pout was adorable. Caelan knew he wanted to kiss her, to gather her in his arms and devour her. He leaned in more, his mouth dangerously close to hers. "I want to quiet that loud mouth," he said, though it came out almost as a plea.

"Ye can try," she joked, her voice quivering. Their lips met, gently colliding into one another, igniting a spark that sent ripples of electricity through his entire body. He had never felt this before. A part of him was tempted to recoil from the shock of it, but the other part, the more dominant, pulled her in even closer. Leona melted against him, giving in to his hunger for her.

The kiss was brief, a soft and tender moment. He wanted more, craved more truly. But something told him that this was not the time nor the place. Reluctantly, he pulled back from her with her sweet, round face in his hands. "We best stop, lass," he whispered, his breath shaky and rhythmless. She deserved better than this.

Leona seemed surprised by the kiss still, though she looked as if she had enjoyed it as well.

She turned from him, quicker than he expected, and she took towards the corridor. Caelan followed close behind, watching her carefully as she walked along the staircases of the castle. For once, she was quiet, and he wasn't sure how to take it.

Was the kiss too much for her? He frowned and resisted the urge to ask her. She had hiked up the hem of her dress as she moved, her determination obvious. As the castle came into the view ahead of them, Caelan couldn't help but pause. He watched her leave without him. The scene was one he wished he could have painted to keep the memory.

The candlelight blanketed everything, including the woman he would marry.