Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

T hat man is a lunatic!

There was no other explanation for what Bonnie had seen. The man claimed to be Laird MacGregor but what kind of laird brought others on his boat to torture them? Then again, he didn't really have a reason to lie to her. What could he gain from claiming he was someone else? What could he gain from claiming he was Laird MacGregor, specifically?

It seemed more likely to her that he was who he claimed to be and he had simply lost his mind.

What will I dae? I am trapped here with him!

They were in the middle of the sea, the two of them, the man he was torturing, and a small crew of men who would barely even look at her, let alone help her. But even if they wished to help her, what was there for them to do? There was nowhere to run. There was no chance of escape as long as they were on the boat.

Perhaps she could make a run for it, Bonnie thought, when they reached the port, though she doubted Laird MacGregor would give her the opportunity to get too far. He had made it clear that he was going to keep her by his side throughout the wedding and Bonnie couldn't easily escape him and his ever-present gaze. The only reason why he had left her unmonitored now was because he knew there was nowhere for her to go.

Turning around to face the horizon, Bonnie stared at the gentle waves as the birlinn cut through them, the wind pushing it along towards Arran. The sky above was clear, but the chill seeped into her bones even with her cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her lips tasted of brine, the sea suffusing everything that touched it with its essence.

She couldn't claim to like the discomfort that came with travelling, though she did enjoy the view. With the blue sea glittering under the sunlight, the foam-tipped waves with their hypnotic movements, and the seemingly infinite blue that stretched from the sea to the sky, it was easy to forget where she was and with whom.

What are Lachlan an' Finlay doin'? Did they stay behind or will they try tae look fer me in Arran?

Even with her two guards there, though, she didn't know if it would be possible to escape Laird MacGregor. They were both supposed to attend the same wedding. There was only that much Bonnie could do when the two of them would be confined in the same castle, attending the same festivities and mingling with the same people.

At least Cathleen and Macauley would be there. With any luck, Bonnie could use them as a buffer between her and Laird MacGregor, so that she would neither have to deal with him nor offend him in front of the other guests. Maybe when Laird MacGregor saw them, he would be dissuaded from doing anything to hurt her.

Should I tell them what I saw?

Bonnie had to. It didn't matter if the man was truly dangerous, as Laird MacGregor claimed. Someone had to know what the laird was doing and who better to inform about this than Cathleen and Macauley? They would know what to do if the situation got out of hand.

Slowly, she turned her back to the rail to rest against it, but the sudden presence of a figure in front of her startled her and tore a yelp out of her. Her hand instinctively flew to her bow and arrows, but there was hardly any space for her to draw either.

"I didnae mean tae scare ye," said the man, raising his hands as if to show he meant no harm. Though Bonnie didn't relax, she let her shoulders drop from her ears, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

She took a moment to observe him—tall and wide, with dark hair and a beard, much like Laird MacGregor. The similarities between them were startling, suggesting a close relation, but no matter how much Bonnie tried to remember if she had ever been taught the family tree of the MacGregor Clan, she couldn't recall a single thing about them.

They seemed close in age; brothers, perhaps, Bonnie thought.

"Evan told me yer Bonnie MacLaren," the man continued, and from the way he spoke about Laird MacGregor using his given name, Bonnie could only guess she had been correct in her assessment.

"Are ye here tae watch me?" Bonnie asked.

"Is there a reason fer me tae watch ye?" the man asked, gesturing around him as if to say look where you are. "Nay, I'm here tae tell ye tae sit over there, where there is less wind."

As he spoke, the man pointed at the small room. It was true that its walls would protect her from the wind, Bonnie thought, but she didn't want to be anywhere near that place. Laird MacGregor had gone right back inside. Though she couldn't hear anything from where she stood, she feared that if she got any closer, her ears would be assaulted by the man's agonized screams.

"I'd rather stay here," she said.

"I truly think it is best if ye dinnae," the man insisted.

"I am afraid I dinnae care what ye think."

The man's eyes, green like the deepest forests of Bonnie's home lands, narrowed in irritation, but Bonnie didn't care. Laird MacGregor himself had said that he wouldn't harm her and though she was still cautious, she was inclined to believe it. What good would it do, hurting the firstborn of Clan MacLaren? Once word of it got out, he would have a war in his hands.

"Fine," the man said as he turned around to leave. "If ye wish tae freeze tae death, then who am I tae stop ye?"

Bonnie didn't grace that with an answer. She only stood there, as far away from the small room as she could, and ignored everyone just as they ignored her. She tried to weather the cold and the wind, the splash of chilled water on her face, but eventually, it proved too much. The only thing she could do, though, was to curl up by the rail, knees to her chest in an attempt to preserve as much body heat as she could.

By the time they made it to Arran, Bonnie could have sworn the blood had indeed frozen in her veins. Her body felt rigid, as though the chill had shaped her into a statue, and her movements were stiff, her limbs refusing to cooperate with her. One of the men from the crew—a man she hadn't yet talked to—offered her his hand and Bonnie took it gratefully, pushing herself off the floor.

Before she could run, before she could even rub some life back into her hands, Laird MacGregor appeared by her side. His fingers curled around her arm, tightly enough to stop her from running away but not so much as to be obvious.

"Behave," he muttered in her ear. "It will be easier if ye dae."

Easier fer ye perhaps , Bonnie thought but she didn't say it out loud.

Next to the laird stood the man who had spoken to her before. Seeing them so close to each other only reinforced her belief that they were brothers, as they were almost perfect copies of each other.

"Alaric, ye ken what tae dae," Laird MacGregor said, and Bonnie looked at the two men for any sign that would betray what it was the man—Alaric, she now knew—had to do. Nodding grimly, Alaric patted the laird's shoulder and then stepped off the birlinn ahead of him and Bonnie, disappearing into the crowd of the port.

"Where is he goin'?" Bonnie asked, but the laird didn't even spare her a glance before he pulled her off the boat. Reluctantly, Bonnie followed him through the crowd as he tugged her this way and that, weaving through the people. At the edge of the port, he guided her to a small carriage, all but shoving her inside before climbing in.

"Will ye simply stay silent fer the entire weddin'?" Bonnie asked in exasperation. She wanted answers. She wanted anything that would help her make sense of this and if Laird MacGregor refused to give her any, then she would have to find another way.

"What dae ye want me tae say?" he asked.

"Well . . . ye could start by tellin' me who that other man is."

"Alaric?" the laird asked. "He's me brother."

Bonnie nodded, unsurprised by that. "An' who is that other man? In the room?"

"That doesnae concern ye."

Though there was no malice behind his words, Laird MacGregor also left no room for discussion, making it clear in only a few firm words that Bonnie was not to meddle in any of this. She was curious, of course, but insisting could only lead to trouble, and so she said nothing on the matter. Laird MacGregor said nothing, as well, and the two of them spent the rest of their short ride up to the hill where Castle Hamilton stood in silence.

Only a little longer an' I will see me sister an' Macauley.

Once they made it to the castle, though, a young woman in servant's attire rushed to them and stopped them before either Bonnie or the laird could get too far. When she reached them, she bowed deeply, but there was an urgency about her that had Bonnie on edge.

"The weddin' is about tae begin, m'lord, m'lady," the woman said. "Please, follow me."

We arrived at the very last minute! When will I speak tae Cathleen now?

Laird MacGregor seemed pleased with the development, surely because Bonnie had to follow him now if she didn't want to cause a scene. With a weary sigh, she let him drag her along to the chapel at the edge of the castle grounds, where the wedding would be taking place, the two of them led there by the servant. It was a short walk and soon, the rest of the guests appeared before her eyes, all of them dressed in bright tunics and glittering jewels, like a flock of colorful birds in the middle of the woods.

The two of them were the only ones who stood out, dressed as they were in their travelling clothes. Under her cloak, Bonnie wore a simple cyclas and mantle, and the only thing that marked her and Evan as nobles was the fur that lined their clothes to battle against the chill. Bonnie didn't even have any of her jewelry, as they had all travelled among her belongings in her chests.

People will surely talk.

Bonnie's gaze roamed over them all in search of her sister and Macauley, but they were nowhere to be found. She checked once, twice, three times, but there was no sign of them, much to her surprise.

Where are they? Could somethin' have happened tae them?

Heart jumping to her throat at the thought, Bonnie took a step forward with the intention of looking for them, but Laird MacGregor was quick to tighten his grip on her arm. She glared at him over her shoulder and tried to tug herself free as subtly as she could, only for him to stare straight ahead and ignore her completely.

Laird MacGregor's grip didn't loosen up throughout the entire ceremony, and by the time Tavish and Amelia were married, Bonnie was certain his fingers had left a mark on her skin. As the other guests trickled back towards the castle for the feast, Laird MacGregor tugged her along once more and Bonnie couldn't help but feel like a doll that was hauled around by a child, having no agency of her own.

"Will ye let go o' me?" she mumbled through gritted teeth just as they stepped into the entry hall of the castle. "I've had enough!"

"I told ye tae behave," Laird MacGregor said, just as quietly.

"I am behavin'," Bonnie pointed out. "I have yet tae tell anyone that yer keepin' me as a prisoner."

"Hardly a prisoner when yer nae behind bars," said the laird. "Calm down. Ye'll make everyone suspicious."

"As they should be!"

"Me lady!"

The familiar voice startled Bonnie. It seemed to startle Laird MacGregor as well, who immediately released her arm, but didn't stray far from her, his gaze watching her and her two guards like a hawk as they approached. Lachlan and Finlay were both pale, their foreheads coated in perspiration and their eyes wide upon noticing her, and they all but pushed the crowd of nobles aside in their quest to reach Bonnie.

"Where have ye been?" Finlay asked. "What happened tae ye? I told ye tae wait in the birlinn ."

"Forgive me, Finlay," Bonnie said, truly apologetic for all the panic and fear she must have put them through. "I boarded the wrong birlinn an' afore I kent what happened, we were already sailin'. I didnae mean tae concern ye, but I am glad yer here. Where is me sister? Where is Macauley?"

With a long-suffering sigh, Finlay rubbed his eyes with a trembling hand, barely keeping himself under control. "It was me own mistake," he said. "I should have escorted ye tae the birlinn ."

"Ye did naething wrong, Finlay," Bonnie assured him. "Tell me, where are they?"

"We were given this upon arrival," Finlay said, as he handed her a folded letter addressed to her with Macauley's wax seal on it. Bonnie took it and tore it open, once again fearing that something had happened to Cathleen and Macauley, her eyes quickly scanning the words.

Over her shoulder, she could feel Laird MacGregor's breath as he stood too close for comfort, and Bonnie shifted her stance in an effort to hide the letter from him. It was easier said than done, though, when he seemed determined read what the page said and shifted along with her.

From the moment she laid eyes upon the paper, she knew the letter had come from her sister, her handwriting so familiar that it was instantly recognizable. Dread gripped Bonnie as she read that he and Macauley could not make it to the wedding, after all, due to unfavorable weather conditions, and that they were stuck in Clan Drummond after their visit there, unable to go anywhere.

Slowly, she turned to look at Laird MacGregor, wondering how she would escape him now. With Macauley and Cathleen there, she could have managed it, even if it would take some effort. Now that she was alone there, with no one but her guards, any hope of escape seemed futile.

And then, she saw another man approach, one she had never seen before. Much like Laird MacGregor, he was a handsome man, as well as tall and muscular, though upon a first look at him, he didn't seem nearly as intimidating.

"Good afternoon, me lady," said the man, bowing to her. "I am Graeme Ruthven, Laird of Clan Ruthven. Ye are Bonnie MacLaren, correct?"

Bonnie froze at the mention of the man's name. He was the one to whom she was supposed to be betrothed. He was the one the council had selected for her.

Now I'm trapped with them both!