Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Present Day

The soft bristles of the silver-backed brush pushed gently through Jocelyn's long, straight, brown hair. She had always wished for curls like her sister, but she took after her mother in that regard. The light from the lamp reflected off her delicate strands, having just washed her hair for the first time in several weeks. The smell of lavender that had been infused into the soap still clung to her skin. It was a welcome scent compared to how she usually smelled after a day in the kitchens, her fingers wafting the scents of garlic and fish. It didn't bother Jocelyn much anymore, though, especially with only having to work there a couple of times a week.

She laid the brush down on the dressing table, sitting up tall on the small bench. Carefully separating the front sections of hair from her hairline, she lifted and twisted them, pinning each side back. Then, biting her bottom lip in concentration, Jocelyn carefully placed a small sprig of tiny white flowers on each side. Staring at her reflection, Jocelyn let out a sigh, allowing her shoulders to fold forward. She had seen other women in the castle wearing their hair like that, and though she tried to mimic those styles, she felt foolish in her attempts. She didn't care what her hair looked like, at least not down to the perfectly chosen flowers, but it wasn't for her.

Thoughts of her conversation with her uncle, not that long ago, fluttered through her head. She sold her soul that day, but it was worth it to her. She was in charge now, and with Blair in a different place, constantly on the brink of war with their uncle, Jocelyn knew she would sell anything she had to keep her sisters safe. It was her responsibility, and she wouldn't ever shy away from it. Still, it was hard to be thankful for things when all she really wanted was their freedom.

A small rap on the door echoed through the room but before Jocelyn could call out to enter, the door creaked open. Deirdre's small, angelic face poked through the crack. She giggled before tumbling forward, Aoife pushing her in with an exhausted frustration on her face. Jocelyn smirked, turning on the bench to face them.

First, she eyed Deirdre. The once cherub-faced baby was nearly 14 years old, and tall and thin. She hadn't yet reached a young woman's maturity, and lacked the curves Aoife proudly displayed whenever they dressed up. Jocelyn was thankful for that. The last thing she wanted was for any Highlander man to have anything but pure thoughts about the youngest of her sisters.

"Let me see ye," Jocelyn said with a smile. "Yer hair is very pretty. Did Maeve help ye with it?"

Deirdre nodded, pulling each of the two braids out to the side. "Mhmm. They arenae very comfortable."

"Probably because someone didnae come in from the forest on time tae get her bath," Aoife replied, shrugging.

Deirdre stuck her tongue out at Aoife and slowly looked back at Jocelyn. "It was the greatest of adventures. I just couldnae leave."

Jocelyn raised a brow. "More pirates and creatures of the sea?"

Deirdre shook her head. "Nay, it was a muddy, smelly swampland with evil creatures in the bubbling stench."

Jocelyn couldn't help herself and laughed heartily as her eyes shifted down Deirdre's white blouse and ankle-length dinner skirts. As her eyes reached Deirdre's boots, she dropped the smile and grabbed a rag from her dressing table, handing it over to her little sister. "I suppose, then, that's where ye got all that mud on yer boots. Next time, ye come in when ye're told, little rose. Things may feel different now, with a bit of freedom, but we are still in as much danger as before."

"If nae more," Aoife grumbled.

Jocelyn's eyes shifted over to Aoife, realizing what she was wearing for the first time. She looked different, more mature, her body accentuated in places she hadn't even noticed about her, almost 16-year-old, sister before. "Did ye get permission tae wear this? I thought I told ye that everything with the Laird goes through me. The longer ye stay out of sight, the better ye'll be fer it. I ken ye like the pretty dresses and all, but they arenae worth what can come from our uncle."

Aoife put her hand on Jocelyn's shoulder. "Relax, I didnae personally ask permission. In fact, nay one did. Maeve brought it tae me earlier and told me the Laird wished fer me tae wear it tae dinner tonight. I just figured that since Deirdre was given new skirts and such that it was just that time fer us tae be given some new clothes."

Caution ran through Jocelyn as she stepped back, looking at the blue dress with a corseted top and full skirt. It was definitely English fashion, and definitely not something the Laird would normally allow them to wear. Jocelyn shook her head. "Nay, I sent Maeve tae the village with me allowance tae get Deirdre some clothing. I kenned she wouldnae get any new skirts or blouses before the feast tonight, and she's growin' like a weed." Jocelyn pushed the concern from her face knowing it wouldn't do them any good. "Ye look like a princess."

Aoife smiled sweetly. "A princess without a prince."

Jocelyn forced a small smile and turned to Deirdre, helping her to get the mud from her boots quicker than she was moving. She glanced back at Aoife who was looking in the mirror. It was still so strange to see her sisters in nice dresses, their hair done, their faces without smudges or dirt. But it was part of the deal that Jocelyn had made with her uncle, something that was done for their safety, or at least an illusion of safety. That and a bit of freedom, the ability to move about the keep and the grounds mostly as they saw fit. They still had chores and jobs to do, but they weren't confined to their rooms in between those jobs.

"Ye didnae put on the rouge that Maeve picked up fer ye," Jocelyn said over her shoulder.

Aoife shrugged. "I didnae really understand it when Blair left, but I think I do now."

Jocelyn furled her brow, standing up as she patted her hands together, dusting the mud from her palms. "What didnae ye understand?"

Aoife whirled quickly around to face Jocelyn, her chin high. "Before Blair left, she said to me, 'dream yer dreams at night, but in the daylight, keep yer plain skirts on, hair back in a bun, and dinnae be caught with rouge on yer cheeks'. I thought she just meant tae keep me safe from Bram and uncle, but now that yer betrothed, I suppose I'll be next. The dress I'm wearin' isnae plain, but why waste me rouge when me groom is already chosen? Or will be. It's nae like I'll be fightin' fer the most handsome young Scot's hand."

That was the part that Jocelyn really hated. The part that really sealed the deal for her uncle. In exchange for some freedom, nicer things, and safety, her and her sisters would agree to marry whatever men their uncle chose for them. In reality, the nicer things, the freedom, and the safety were because of that agreement. In order for her uncle to really get something out of the marriage to other clan leaders, he had to make it look as if Jocelyn and her sisters were family. Not just family by blood, but they had to create the illusion that Jocelyn and her sisters were important members of the family.

"I ken," Jocelyn sighed, all too familiar with the conversation. "But ye arenae the only one."

"I cannae believe ye're gonna marry that old man," Aoife said, grimacing. "Do ye really want tae marry him?"

Jocelyn swallowed back the bile that threatened to spew from her stomach each and every time she thought about the man waiting downstairs for her. Of course she didn't want to marry him, but she had to show her sisters what needed to be done. "Laird Breathnach is a fine match. He's powerful, strong, and?— "

"Old," Aoife snorted. "It's nae fair."

Jocelyn quickly turned to Aoife, angry at her defiance. She shook her head and let the anger simmer away, trying to remember her sisters were victims of the whole thing. No, of course it wasn't fair. "I'm sorry it has tae be this way. I truly am. But ye wouldnae have yer pretty dresses, yer sewin' lessons, or yer safety from endless nights on the dank piss-ridden floors of the prisons below the keep if it werenae fer the deal we struck. I had tae do somethin' tae keep us safe. Blair and her husband, they've never stopped tryin' but war is threatened."

Aoife plopped down on the bench, nodding in defeat. "I thought we'd be free by now."

Deirdre put her boot back on and hurried over to Aoife, sitting next to her. "Me too."

Jocelyn nodded. "Aye. But it didnae turn out that way. So meanwhile, we agreed tae have these nicer clothes, and tae be able tae move about anywhere we want, we had tae make a succession. We are tae marry wealthy men, helping our uncle gain power and influence. And tae keep Bram from goin' tae war with Blair and James, they had tae agree tae stop tryin' tae take us, at least publicly they had tae agree. They also agreed tae cover our expenses, giving us the allowance, and tae pay fer our dowries. Trust me, Blair didnae want tae say aye, but she, like me, kenned it was the only way tae secure our safety, at least fer a little while. We just have tae keep goin', and nay matter what, we'll end up away from here."

Aoife nodded, reaching out and taking Jocelyn's hand. "I ken. And I ken yer doin' it too. I just always hoped that I'd be rescued, that one day I'd be loved like how ye described father loving our mother. Besides, if Bram has his way, we'll never get that far."

Jocelyn knew Aoife was right. Their cousin Bram hated the fact that his father was allowing them to have nicer things, and using them to grow the power of the clan. Bram wanted nothing but misery for the sisters. In fact, Jocelyn and the others knew that what Bram really wanted was to see all four of them dead.

Deirdre lifted her brow. "Maybe uncle will one day come around. I mean, he doesnae let Bram kill us, at least nae yet. Maybe we can make him love us again, like when I was born and he was here tae welcome me."

Aoife smiled at Deirdre, putting her arm around her. "Maybe, little rose. Maybe."

With a quick passing glance, Jocelyn knew Deirdre was referring to one of the many stories Aoife had told her through the years. Barely any of them were true, but it gave Deirdre a bit of hope, a feeling of connection with their mother and father, despite being too young to really remember either of them.

As Jocelyn stood, she winked at Aoife and patted Deirdre on the head. She had a hard time faking her way through the nerves and disgust she had thinking about marrying Laird Breathnach, and, even more so, the thought of her sisters having to do something similar. But she had learned over the last few years that the girls held on to her strength and smiles. Without her acting, pushing through her shyness and need of solitude, they would fall apart.

"Alright, lassies, let's all remember our manners down there. We are tae speak very little, and only when we are asked a question. We stand still, smile, look pleasant and never bored, and…" Jocelyn pointed at Deirdre. "Nay fidgeting. Nay sighing. Nay playin' with our hair. We ken how much our uncle hates that."

Deirdre rolled her eyes. "I ken, I ken. I am too young tae parade in front of the old men, so I basically disappear when I'm down there. I did good last time."

Jocelyn smiled, remembering having to pinch Deirdre on the arm to get her to stop humming. "Aye, ye did."

"Except the humming," Aoife said with a laugh.

Deirdre shrugged. "I realized that if I just keep a smile on me face, and me feet planted, I can plan the next adventure in me head and the night goes faster."

"I like that," Jocelyn replied. "Just dinnae forget tae blink. I think ye scared Lady O'Conner last time. Yer smile looked painful and ye didnae blink through dinner at all."

All three of the girls laughed. Deirdre and Aoife stood as Jocelyn put her arms out. They wrapped their arms around each other and hugged, a reminder that even if they were facing a difficult time, they could make it through together. Jocelyn had to believe that they would either find their freedom, or they'd marry into it. As long as she could keep her sisters safe, she would do anything.

Another knock on the door made all three girls jump. Jocelyn put her hand on her stomach, calming her wildly beating heart as she cracked the door and glanced out. Maeve, their maid, curtsied just slightly and walked in, quietly shutting the door behind her. She looked around at each of them, giving Deirdre a special wink. "I hate tae intrude, lassies. Laird wishes ye tae come on down and prepare fer the feast. His guest seems rather…impatient."

Those moments before descending into the world outside of their quiet hallway were always anxiety ridden. Jocelyn could feel the nerves rattling wildly in her stomach. She could see the same on her sister's faces. She squeezed Deirdre's hand and nodded at Aoife. "We stay together and we take care of each other. Just smile and be agreeable and this night will be over very soon. It's just dinner."

Aoife and Deirdre both nodded, their shoulders releasing just a bit. As Jocelyn followed them to the door, she hoped she was right. Every moment they had to stay in front of their uncle and cousin was dangerous. But it was also necessary. Jocelyn would keep moving them forward toward safety; she just hoped it all worked out before Bram became the Laird. She knew once that happened, their hopes for survival would be over.