Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

E verything about Castle MacGregor was warm. The rooms were warm, the fires were warm, the atmosphere was warm—even the people, from those with titles to the servants. They were friendly and happy to help Lucia with any question she had.

Within moments, it was clear to her that she didn’t belong there.

Ever since she donned the clothes brought to her by one of the maids, she had felt as though she was playing a strange role. Though she had bathed and dressed and no fewer than three maids had helped her with her hair, combing and oiling it until they could tame it into an intricate updo of the like Lucia had never even seen before, she felt as though she looked too odd—as though everything she wore was a disguise, like a child trying to look more grown up or an infiltrator failing to blend in.

And now that she was sitting at the dinner table with the entirety of the MacGregor family around her, it was clearer than ever to her that she would never manage to even appear as though she belonged in such a place.

Everything was foreign to her, from the surroundings to the clothes and the gems adorning the women’s throats. Everyone around her picked delicately at their food, so unlike the ravenous, unstoppable way in which Lucia was used to eating. In her world, especially when she was a child, one didn’t take too long to eat simply because one couldn’t. Either she was compelled by her empty stomach to finish her food as fast as possible or she was compelled by the presence of someone just as hungry as her—if she were unlucky enough, a bigger child who could take it from her.

But now everyone ate leisurely, taking the time to savor the food and to talk to each other. That was the one thing Lucia had noticed from the moment she had sat down; they were all constantly talking.

Like a family.

Never before had Lucia experienced such a thing. She didn’t have a single memory of her family sitting down like this to have dinner no matter how much she tried to search her mind for one. It wasn’t only the formality of it all, but also the fact that they were all together, that they could all take the time out of their day to eat like this with no hurry.

“Miss Donnelly, are ye nae enjoyin’ the food?”

Lucia looked up to see everyone staring at her and most of all Isabeau, who had asked her the question. She was a beautiful young woman, with the same dark hair as her brothers and Alaric’s green eyes, tall and lithe with a face that reminded Lucia of a doll—the kind of doll she could have never afforded.

It was then that Lucia realized she had been pushing her food back and forth on her plate as she thought about everything that had happened and everything that still would. She still had to avenge Ronan. She still had to kill Callum and take what she was owed—a life for a life.

But she was the only one on that table thinking about revenge. Everyone else was talking about everyday, normal things and she was the only one who did not fit.

“Nay, nay… the food is lovely,” Lucia said, shaking those thoughts out of her head. “Forgive me. I’m just quite tired.”

“Ach, ye’ve had a very long way to travel,” said Bonnie. She, too, was a beautiful woman, with brown hair and warm, brown eyes so kind that Lucia could hardly look at her. “O’ course ye’re tired. Ye should retire as soon as ye feel like it so ye can rest. Ye as well, Alaric.”

“It’s as ye say,” said Alaric. Lucia had been observing him throughout the entire affair, seeing how relaxed and peaceful he was here with his family. While they were travelling, he had never been like this, not even when it was only the two of them. He had always seemed guarded, careful, always looking over his shoulder for a threat, but now he was at peace.

A part of Lucia, a big part of her, was happy to see him like this. She had put him through a lot, after all, and she was fully aware of her hand in all the hardship that had befallen them. Another part, though, couldn’t help but envy him a little, and not just him but everyone in the family who could afford to put their guard down.

For a while, the four of them were once again engaged in a conversation in which Lucia could take no part, reminiscing about family memories. She preferred it this way, though. It was better to remain silent and to try to mimic their ways of eating than risk saying something that would reveal the truth about herself. She didn’t know just how much Alaric had shared with them. She didn’t know if they knew her true identity, but she was quite certain it was obvious she wasn’t noble-born.

When there was a lull in the conversation, though, Isabeau turned to her once again, eager to include her.

“What about yer family, Miss Donnelly?” she asked and Lucia was glad that she was sitting next to Alaric and couldn’t see his expression. She froze for a moment, looking at Isabeau from across the table with wide, fearful eyes, but that seemed to be enough of an answer for her.

“Ach!” Isabeau said, letting out an awkward chuckle. “Forgive me, I always ask so many questions! It’s a bad habit of mine but, truly, I should dae me best tae control it.”

Lucia blinked a few times, the rapid succession of Isabeau’s speech stealing her own words from her. It took her a few moments to realize what exactly it was that Isabeau was doing; she was trying to get the attention away from Lucia and back to her, framing it all as her own blunder. It was as subtle as it was effective, and far from anything Lucia had ever encountered before.

That’s very clever. She could have made a good spy.

Everything, Lucia had quickly come to find out, revolved around subtlety in a castle like this.

“It’s quite alright,” Lucia assured her, even though she was certain the assurance was necessary. Surely, everyone around the table knew Isabeau was only saying it for Lucia’s sake, even if they didn’t mention it. “I was only surprised. Like I said, I’m tired an’ I must have missed a part o’ yer conversation.”

“I understand,” said Isabeau with a warm smile. “Personally, I despise travelin’. I love tae see the world but I hate tae travel. It is always such a chore! If I could be where I need tae be without travelin’, I would prefer it.”

“I think we all would,” Evan said with a chuckle. Lucia dragged her gaze over to him, laughing softly, and she couldn’t help but notice just how similar he and Alaric were—both of them tall and wide, with the same strong facial features and the same dark hair, though Evan didn’t share his siblings’ green eyes. It was the beard and the tattoos, it seemed to Lucia, which made such a stark difference between them and gave Alaric his rugged look, one that matched neither his pedigree nor his gentler nature.

Just then, the door to the great hall opened and a guard walked in, followed by a woman. She made for a striking image; tall and willowy, with auburn hair and piercing blue eyes, carrying herself with confidence and a patrician air. Everyone in the room seemed to come to a complete standstill at the same time when they turned to look at her. Even time seemed to stand still and Lucia could only wonder who this woman was to gain such a reaction.

“Me laird,” said the guard with a bow, “Miss Kayla Sinclair has arrived.”

“Good evenin’,” said the woman as she stepped forward and offered a bow of her own. “It is a pleasure tae meet ye all. Please forgive the delay, I was unfortunately held back because o’ certain family matters.”

There was a short pause during which no one moved. Then, Evan seemed to remember his manners and he stood quickly, greeting the woman. “Miss Sinclair, welcome! How wonderful that ye have finally joined us! Please, sit. I shall have the servants bring ye a plate.”

“Thank ye, but that willnae be necessary. I have already supped,” the woman said as she made her way to the table.

“Well then, may I introduce ye tae me wife Bonnie, the Lady MacGregor, me sister Isabeau, our guest Miss Lucia Donnelly, and me braither, Alaric” said Evan, walking her over to each of them and then waving her towards the empty seat across from him.

Lucia could feel Alaric tense up beside her. There was suddenly a strange air about him, something she had never sensed from him before, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it could be.

When Kayla reached her chair, Alaric stood and she curtsied and bowed her head. “So, ye must be me betrothed,” she said softly, her cheeks slightly flushed.

At first, Lucia thought she must have surely misheard Kayla. If Alaric was betrothed to another woman, wouldn’t she have known? But then, Lucia looked around the table, seeing the pallid faces, the awkward looks, and most of all, Alaric’s guilt etched clearly on his face, as though he could hardly contain it, and she knew Kayla’s words to be true.

And in that moment, she could have sworn she could feel her heart break.

Alaric rarely experienced true fear. He had been hardened in battle. He had experienced many dangerous things and had often come close to death. And yet, nothing could have prepared him for the kind of fear he felt now, the one that clawed its way all through his guts, tearing him apart from the inside at the thought that he had hurt Lucia.

He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her. She was sitting right next to him and Alaric, like the coward he was, couldn’t even face her.

He could sense her distress, though. When Lucia was furious, she didn’t need to show it or speak about it for everyone in the room to feel it. It was as though a chill had fallen over the table, all the warmth suddenly seeping out of the room.

“Aye,” Alaric said, plastering on the most convincing smile he could muster. This was not the time for him to crumble or give anything away. No matter how much he wanted to avoid this marriage, he couldn’t do anything that would risk insulting Kayla, especially since she had only just arrived. It would be detrimental to the clan and once again, Alaric had to put the greater good above his own desires. “It is a pleasure tae meet ye, Miss Sinclair.”

With the introductions out of the way and the dinner soon finished, the entire party moved to the drawing room, where the servants brought wine and ale for the night. Though Alaric did his best to stay away from Kayla, the moment he took a seat, she went to sit next to him. It was, of course, only natural for her to be close to her betrothed and learn more about him, but Alaric’s guilt settled heavy in his stomach and he couldn’t even take a sip of wine, stomach churning at the mere thought of it.

Lucia, on the other hand, lingered by the large windows that overlooked the courtyard, staying far from the rest of the group. Alaric could hardly blame her. All he wanted was to take her away, to explain to her that he had no other choice but to play this part for now, even if he had no plans of marrying Kayla. But how could he do that when not only his betrothed but also his entire family was there?

“I am glad tae finally meet ye,” said Kayla. She was a beautiful woman and when she smiled, it was enough to make a man’s heart stop—any man’s except for Alaric’s. Had he not met Lucia, had he not fallen for her, then he thought he could have had a happy marriage with Kayla. As it were, though, his thoughts and his gaze kept straying back to Lucia, unable to stay focused. “I feared ye would be a brute. Ye have… quite the reputation,” she added with a shy smile.

“I dae?” Alaric asked a little distractedly, bringing his cup to his lips. He knew that he did. He knew that many people, if not most, found him intimidating and sometimes, that reputation was very helpful.

“Och aye,” said Kayla. “And ye’re far more handsome than I expected as well,” she added with a smile.

Alaric had barely managed to take a sip before choking on it, his eyes widening. He had hardly managed to recover when he heard something slam down and turned to see Lucia wiping spilled wine off her hand from where she had put down her cup forcefully, all but shaking with rage.

“Are ye alright, Miss Donnelly?” Kayla asked, much to Alaric’s chagrin. He would rather the two of them interact as little as possible, but that was no longer an option.

Turning to glare at Kayla, Lucia pulled herself up to her full height, shaking the last drops off her hand. “Quite,” she said, rather sharply. “Dinnae fash about me. Ye can return tae yer… conversation.”

It was no surprise that Lucia was short with Kayla. If anything, Alaric had expected worse, having seen how quick she was to anger, but so far, she had been keeping it under control, if not entirely concealing it. He couldn’t help but wonder how long this attitude would last, though. Alaric could already see that she was reaching her breaking point and he wished the evening would simply come to an end so he could talk with her and try to calm her.

But what can I tell her? What can I say that will fix this?

He doubted there was anything to say at all.