Chapter 8

8

G emma sat at the long wooden table in the grand hall, her back straight and her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The room was filled with people, all dressed in their finest kilts and tartans, and the air was thick with the scent of roasted meats and spiced ale. Her eyes drifted across the room, taking in the sights and sounds of the betrothal dinner. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. The musicians played a lively tune on their fiddles and pipes, and the guests chatted and laughed over their meals. Some people were dancing in the middle of the floor, having a grand old time.

Unfortunately, she was not enjoying the festivities. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, and her stomach was tied in knots. Bryce sat beside her, his leg touching hers under the table. The way he smiled at her was so confusing. Clearly he was happy, and he beamed, but there was a sense of…pride in his smile that she did not like. It felt as though he were treating this betrothal dinner as a celebration after battle, where he’d gained her as a prize. She didn’t like anything about it.

To make matters worse, Gemma's dress was too tight. She had tried to convince Muriel to let it out before they left, but she had insisted that it was already as loose as was proper. Gemma could feel the fabric constricting her breath, and she longed to rip it off and run away.

“Gemma, let’s dance,” Bryce said, holding out his hand to her.

She shook her head.

“I’m not in the mood for it, I’m afraid,” she said in a small voice.

Bryce narrowed his eyes at her.

“Gemma, please. ‘Tis our betrothal dinner. ‘Twill look strange if we dinnae stand up taegether.”

She caught sight of her mother glaring daggers at her nearby, so she sighed and stood up.

“One dance,” she warned.

As a new song started, a cheer went up from the crowd as people realized the laird’s son and his soon-to-be-bride were taking to the floor.

“See, everyone is happy! ‘Tis braw indeed. I dinnae ken what’s wrong wi’ ye, but I wish tae see ye happy, as well.”

Gemma didn’t even know what to say to that. She already felt ill, and did not want to be spun around the room. Bryce’s callous attitude was making this even worse.

The music started, and it was lively indeed. Once, before all this had happened, she used to love this dance. It was fun, fast-paced, and if you liked your partner, it provided an opportunity for you to be close to them. Bryce was clearly relishing this, as he looked down at her in an amorous manner. She tried to smile, as instructed by Muriel and her entire family earlier, but she had a feeling it came off as more of a panicked plea than a joyous expression. When Bryce lifted her up in the air and twirled her about, she felt her stomach lurch in a most uncomfortable manner.

She’d never been more grateful for a dance to end. Another lad came up to ask her for a dance, but she could not handle so much motion again, so she made her way back to the great wooden table where she’d been sitting earlier. Bryce followed suit, not wanting to let her out of his sight.

Suddenly, Gemma's vision began to swim, and she felt dizzy. She tried to stand up, but her legs buckled beneath her, and she fell back into her seat. The room around her began to spin, and the noise of the feast grew distant and muffled.

“Gemma!” Bryce’s voice cut through the haze, and Gemma felt his strong arms catch her as she fell forward. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”

But she couldn't answer. Her head was pounding, and her limbs felt heavy and numb. She closed her eyes and let out a soft moan.

The next thing she knew, she was lying on a soft bed in a quiet chamber, with a cool cloth pressed to her forehead. Her mother was sitting beside her, holding her hand and murmuring words of comfort.

“Gemma, my dear,” her mother said, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “What happened? Are ye feelin’ better now?”

Gemma opened her eyes and tried to sit up, but her head throbbed with pain, and she sank back onto the pillows.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” she whispered. “I dinnae ken what came over me. I was thinkin’ of how I dinnae want tae marry him, and…I felt sick.”

Her mother's expression was unreadable as she dabbed the cloth to her forehead. Gemma rather thought that if she were not ill and faint, her mother might have reacted differently.

“I understand, my dear,” she said. “But ye ken that this marriage is not just about yer life. ‘Tis about ours, yer brothers’, and the clan’s. We must put our duty above our own desires. And Bryce chose ye! Of all the lasses…tae represent the clan as Lady.”

Gemma closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising panic in her chest. She knew that her mother was right, and it was the first sensible thing she’d said since the unromantic proposal, but the thought of spending her life with someone she did not love filled her with a sense of despair.

“I’ll leave ye be. At least I ken yer not feigning this. Ye dinnae look so well,” said Mrs. Gordon.

As she lay there, lost in thought, the distant sound of music and laughter drifted in through the open window, and the sweet scent of heather and peat smoke filled the air. Gemma wondered where in the castle she was — she was not familiar with this guest room. It seemed very close to the great hall. Or…perhaps the feast was just that loud. She tried to rest, but her mind was racing. Where was Colin, and what was he doing? Did he miss her? Why hadn’t he written to her? Was the risk too great? But…he’d seemed so sincere in his last letter. What could have happened? She did not want her mind to run to the worst, so she pinched her own thigh in order to concentrate on something else.

She dozed in and out for a while, like a cat in a sunny spot on a window, but sleep eluded her. Worry took its place instead.

Just then, the door to the chamber opened, and a servant entered, carrying a tray of food and drink.

“Good evening, my lady,” the servant said, setting the tray down on a nearby table. “I have brought ye some broth an’ bread, and a cup of honeyed water tae soothe ye.”

Gemma thanked the servant and sat up in bed, feeling a little stronger. She sipped the honeyed water, letting the sweetness slide down her throat, and nibbled on a piece of bread. As she ate, she heard the sound of footsteps outside the door, and the murmur of voices. Then the door opened again, and Bryce stepped into the room.

“Gemma,” he said, striding to the bed. “Are ye feelin’ any better?”

Gemma looked up at him, feeling a wave of guilt and embarrassment wash over her. She knew that she had caused a scene at the betrothal dinner, and that Bryce must be wondering what was wrong with her. Also, the fact that he just strode in rubbed her the wrong way. They were not yet married, yet he already presumed it was alright for them to be alone together like this?

“I’m sorry, Bryce,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I dinnae ken what came over me. I feel so foolish.”

“I have a feeling I ken what it is,” he said, his smiling expression suddenly growing darker.

Her heart thudded in her ears, worsening her existing headache.

“What?” She whispered hoarsely.

“‘Tis Colin, is it not?”

She only gulped nervously, but that was enough to indicate the truth to Bryce.

“Gemma…” he said slowly, “I hate tae tell ye this, but…Colin was not the man we thought him tae be.”

“What do you mean?” Hearing him talk like this was alarming indeed.

Bryce sighed and ran a hand through his short red hair.

“I cannae tell ye all the details but…trust I was merciful. Exile was a generous punishment for his an’ his father’s crimes.”

“Crimes?!” She cried, her head swimming.

“Aye. I willnae tell ye all because yer a fine lady, but…’twas best he left. I couldnae bear tae see ye with someone like him,” Bryce said sullenly.

“I thought he was yer friend,” Gemma said in disbelief.

“He was, which is why ‘twas a great betrayal. I’m truly sorry, Gemma. But…I hope ye can find happiness wi’ me.”

Just then, the sound of music and laughter grew louder, and Bryce stood up, his face melting back to that pleasant one once more.

“I should go back tae the feast,” he said, straightening his tartan. “I have tae make a toast to our union. I promise it’ll be grand.”

Gemma nodded, feeling a twinge of apprehension. She knew that she would have to face the guests again, and that the eyes of the clan would be upon her.

Bryce hesitated for a moment, then leaned down and brushed a kiss across her forehead. The sensation sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine.

“Rest well, Gemma,” he said before turning and striding out of the room.

As the door closed behind him, Gemma lay back against the pillows, feeling a mixture of emotions. Colin and his father were criminals? And Colin was to marry another lass? How…how did that make sense? She’d always felt safe and happy around both of them. What crimes could they have possibly committed? Was Bryce telling her the truth? And why was he acting like this? When she recovered from whatever odd illness this was, she vowed to turn over every stone and conduct her own private investigation on this. And frankly…Gemma wondered if the laird actually had anything to do with this, or if it was all Bryce’s doing. She’d underestimated him — clearly he was more cunning than she thought.

Then, as she closed her eyes, she felt a sudden wave of dizziness, and a deep sense of exhaustion swept over her. She tried to sit up, but her head was pounding, and she sank back onto the pillows.

The next thing she knew, she was falling, falling into a deep, dark void, where the sounds of the feast and the voices of the guests grew fainter and fainter, until they were nothing but a distant murmur in the depths of her mind. Then, those murmurs faded into a dream.

She stood on the edge of the cliff, the salty sea breeze whipping through her hair. The waves crashed against the shore below, their sound soothing and familiar. In the distance, she could see a figure walking towards her, and as it got closer, she realized it was Colin.

He looked just as she remembered him, tall and broad-shouldered, with his red hair tousled by the wind. His green eyes sparkled with warmth and love, and she felt her heart swell with emotion. They stood there for a moment, simply gazing at each other, until Colin took her hand and led her down to the beach. Neither of them spoke, but they did not need to.

The sand was cool and gritty beneath her feet, and she felt the ocean spray on her face as they walked hand in hand along the shoreline. They chatted about everything and nothing, sharing stories and laughing together like they used to.

As they continued walking, the sky began to darken, and Gemma felt a sense of sadness creeping over her. She knew that she would have to say goodbye to Colin soon, and the thought made her heart ache.

But then, something miraculous happened. The sea parted before them, revealing a path leading out to a distant island. Without hesitation, Colin took her hand and led her across the water, their footsteps barely touching the surface. As they reached the island, Gemma felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over her. His broad shoulders glistened in the sunlight, for he was naked. He smiled at her, and his green eyes sparkled with joy. Gemma's heart skipped a beat as he reached out his hand and led her down a path lined with wildflowers. She too was naked, but she felt no shame in her nakedness. It was natural and right.

They walked for what seemed like hours, the only sounds coming from the soft rustling of leaves and the distant cries of seabirds. As they reached the top of a hill, they stopped to take in the breathtaking view. The sea stretched out before them, shimmering in the sun, and the rocky cliffs rose up from the waves like ancient guardians.

Colin turned to her, and his eyes shone with love. “This is our island, Gemma,” he said. “Here, we are safe an’ free. We can be whoever we want tae be, an’ we can love without distraction.”

Gemma smiled, feeling her heart fill with joy. She knew that Colin was right. On this island, they could be together without any obstacles, without anyone to tell them that they couldn't love each other. As they continued walking, the sun began to set, painting the sky with a riot of colors. Gemma and Colin settled down on a blanket, watching as the stars twinkled above them. She leaned into him, feeling his strong arms wrap around her, and they both knew that this was where they belonged. Gemma felt a warmth spreading through her body, fueled by her love for Colin. She turned towards him, and their eyes met, each filled with desire and longing. They knew what they wanted, and nothing could hold them back.

Gemma felt Colin’s strong hands on her waist, pulling her closer to him. His lips met hers, and she melted into his embrace, their kiss deepening with every passing moment. The soft moans and gasps that escaped their lips mingled with the sounds of the sea and the rustling of the leaves, creating a symphony of passion.

As they made love on the blanket, Gemma felt as though time had stopped. She was lost in the moment, in the pleasure that Colin was giving her. She ran her hands over his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath her fingers, and she knew that this was what love was supposed to feel like.

After their activities, they lay spent and exhausted next to each other, but content nonetheless. Gemma felt Colin's hand in hers. She looked up at him, and he smiled at her, a smile filled with love and devotion. “I will always love you, Gemma,” he said. “No matter where we are, no matter what happens, my love for you will never fade.”

The dream, however, did fade away. Gemma awoke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest and tears in her eyes. There was also a familiar wetness between her thighs — such a dream had aroused her. She had never had a dream so vivid before. It was like the cosmos was sending her a message. The parting of the sea was clearly biblical; with an allusion to Moses parting the Red Sea, and to Adam and Eve in the garden. The sea had just…opened up on its own. Did that mean that the answer was right in front of her? Or that finding him would be easier than she thought? And what about the garden? Was that to tell her their love was sinful somehow, or that it was right and good and had been corrupted? Now she was too alert to go back to sleep, so she lay in bed, replaying the dream over and over again until sunrise.

As soon as it was appropriate, she rose, made the bed, and left the room. The servants of the castle were already awake, but they paid her no mind as she walked through the kitchen and out the side door into the courtyard. It would not be too far a walk back to her family’s home, and quite honestly, she could use the time to think about Bryce’s odd explanation for Colin’s exile and her strange dream. It would not be long before she had very, very little time to herself.