Chapter 4

Chapter Four

His first two weeks as second-in-command had come to an end. Finn was quite pleased with how the warriors had taken to his training. They were almost at a point where they were prepared to handle an attack or join any one of the Mackay clans' warriors to defend its keep.

Thinking of attacks made Lady Alison come to mind. They'd had a few more altercations, but for the most part she had remained busy with other women in the keep preparing for her wedding.

Word had it that the Sinclairs were on their way. The wedding was to take place in two days. Finn had been happy that Lady Alison had been kept busy and away from him. His draw to her was much too strong for a man who needed control and a woman who refused to be told what to do—and was preparing for her wedding.

"Mr. Mackay, can ye help move some of the furniture to prepare for the wedding?" Lady Alison, who had lost a bit of weight since he'd arrived, walked up to him as he sat in the great hall enjoying an end of the day ale.

The lass looked anything but happy about her wedding, but he had promised himself he would never let her know he was aware of what her soon-to-be husband had made part of the agreement.

"Aye. I can help out." He downed the rest of his drink and stood. It was the first time they had any sort of interaction since the night they'd stood under the stars and he'd touched her briefly.

He followed her to a room in the basement. She waved at a grouping of chairs and tables stacked against the wall. "We will need these moved upstairs. I realize as second-in-command this is no' one of yer jobs, but everyone else is busy right now."

"‘Tis no' a problem, lass. I doona mind helping."

She nodded and began to walk away.

"Where do ye want them, Lady Alison?"

"Oh, I apologize. I feel a bit dimwitted of late. We will need them in the great hall."

He had the strongest urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her until the well-hidden passion he knew was inside her shattered the shell she had erected.

Although they hadn't spoken much, he'd watched her as she grew more and more solemn as it came closer to her wedding. She needed not a man who would bed her only for bairns, and then discard her for another woman, but one who worshipped her body, brought the pleasure to her that she deserved.

Someone like him.

That idea terrified him. Lady Alison was not a woman who could be controlled. He'd witnessed enough clashes with her and others in the keep to prove that she was a very independent lass.

For him, control was everything.

He dragged, carried and pushed furniture for a couple of hours. As it grew close to supper, he stopped in the kitchen and got a mug of ale.

Lady Alison was right behind him. "That is an excellent idea," she said as she grabbed her own mug and filled it from the ever present jug on a table in the corner.

"Lady Alison." Maude, the castle cook walked over in their direction. "I need ye to let me ken which of the two cakes I showed ye drawings of for the wedding feast."

Lady Alison's relaxed smiling demeanor changed. Her body grew stiff and she placed her mug of ale back on the table. "If ye show them to me again, I will let ye ken. I doona ken why ye canno' pick it yerself."

"‘Tis yer wedding, lass. A verra special day for ye."

"Aye, I ken that." Lady Alison walked to where Maude had pointed at two drawings on the table. Without even really studying them, she said, "this one."

Maude smiled brightly. "I ken ye would pick that one. ‘Tis my favorite, also."

Lady Alison gave her a tight smile and left the kitchen. Finn picked up her mug of ale and followed her. "Lady Alison," he called to her.

She turned back and sighed. "What is it, Mackay?"

He held the mug out. "Ye forgot yer ale."

Some of the tension left her face. She smiled. "Thank ye." She reached out and took the mug, drinking the entire thing.

"Do ye want to talk about it?" He knew he was taking a chance because they didn't exactly have a friendship, but, with no one here for the lass, no sisters, no mam, and a da who called her "trouble," mayhap she was desperate enough to talk to him.

She slumped. "Ye ken, doona ye?"

He thought about pretending he didn't know what she was talking about, but he respected her too much. "Aye."

"Am I a fool for agreeing to this?"

He took her by the elbow and headed toward the library, next to the laird's solar. Once they were in the room, he turned to her. "Can I ask ye why ye agreed to the terms of the betrothal?"

Even though this was not his business, as it grew closer to her wedding, he watched her lose weight, grow paler, and tense. If he could offer no more than someone to listen to, then he would do that.

And forget about the strong attraction he felt for the lass.

"This may come as a surprise to ye, but I doona like to be told what to do."

Finn snorted. "Aye. I ken that."

She continued. "Also I doona want a husband who I could love."

Finn's eyes grew wide. "That is something I thought all lasses wanted. I ken laird's daughters generally doona have a say in who they marry, but to purposely want and chose someone who ye willna love seems a tad strange."

He almost laughed at the words that had come out of his mouth. Here he was a warrior, strong, brawny, and a survivor of many clashes and battles, and he was spewing nonsense about love.

To his surprise, Lady Alison's eyes filled with tears. "Love is only valuable if it lasts. But it doesna." With that statement, she left the room.

Alison hurried to her bedchamber, angry with herself for bringing up the subject of her marriage—to Finn Mackay of all people. She hated showing weakness and that was precisely what she had just done.

Would he use the weakness she showed against her? She didn't trust the man; then she huffed. She trusted no man. They say one thing and then they do something different. At least Archie Sinclair told her right out, even had it put into the betrothal agreement, that his lemman was the most important woman to him.

The evening meal was merely a repeat of all the meals since Finn Mackay had arrived. He and her da had their heads together, discussing weapons, methods, which men were getting better and those who needed more work.

"Ye ken, ‘tis bad manners to discuss these things during the evening meal. That sort of thing should be done in yer solar."

Finn looked over at her and grinned. "Aye, laird, yer daughter is correct. ‘Tis bad manners."

"Doona say that ye and me agree on something!" Alison said, with a smile on her face. Probably the first one all day.

Her da huffed. "Daughter, we are discussing important things. If ye want to talk about wedding dresses and other such nonsense, then find one of yer lasses to chatter with."

Duly chastised, she sat back and studied her supper. Things were bad enough with her da when her brothers died, but, since Finn Mackay arrived, ‘tis like he'd taken the place of his sons, and she was shut out.

She pushed her chair back to leave the table and Finn said, "Nay, lass. I wish to speak with ye after we finish."

"Let her go," her da said, waving a dismissal at her. "I want to ask ye about an important matter. When we're done here, we'll retire to my solar."

"Then if ye will excuse me," she stood and left the table.

As she reached the staircase from the great hall to the bedchambers, one of the guardsmen entered the great hall. "Laird, the Sinclairs have arrived!"

Finn watched Lady Alison continue to the bedchambers upstairs after the announcement of the arrival of the Sinclairs was made. "I will leave ye to greet yer visitors," Finn said and stood.

The Mackay placed his hand on Finn's arm. "Nay. I want ye to meet The Sinclair."

"‘Tis a family matter, my laird. ‘Tis probably better if I allow ye and Lady Alison to greet the guests and I will meet The Sinclair tomorrow."

"Nay. Stay here." The laird looked around. "Where did the blasted lass go now?"

"I believe she retired to her bedchamber."

The laird waved one of the lasses over. "Go upstairs and tell yer lady to make haste and come down here to greet the Sinclairs."

The lass dipped and headed to the staircase. Finn poured himself another ale, wishing it was whisky. He had no desire to meet the man who was going to treat Lady Alison like a broodmare.

The Sinclairs entered with a great deal of fanfare. The Sinclair marched in first with his oldest son—the groom, Archie Sinclair—behind him. The other three sons followed them side-by-side. It looked as though they were going into battle instead of a wedding.

Finn almost choked on his ale when a woman, dressed in the best of clothing, jewelry and hair ornaments, walked in behind the three sons, moving past them to join the oldest Sinclair son.

He smiled at her, took her arm in his and patted her on the hand. She looked around, obviously unimpressed by the room.

Finn felt his blood begin to boil. The man not only had the nerve to bring his whore with him to his wedding but strutted her alongside him in a show of defiance.

What the bloody hell was wrong with The Mackay? Had he lost his mind that he would allow such disrespect toward his daughter?

Was the conversation they'd had about the strange betrothal agreement a farce? He seemed genuinely upset by what he'd agreed to. Yet, after that he continued to dismiss his daughter and acted as though her wedding was something good, not outrageous

The laird stood and greeted his visitors. "I doona ken where my daughter hurried off to, but I sent one of the lasses to fetch her.

"While we wait I will have the kitchen send in food and drink for ye."

Archie Sinclair stepped forward. "My companion is quite tired from the journey. Please have one of yer maids bring her to my bedchamber and have a hot bath and a meal sent up to her."

It was impossible for Finn to stay in the room. In fact, after greeting The Sinclair he intended to stay as far away from the wedding party as he could without offending his laird.

Once the introductions were made, Finn bowed to The Sinclair. "If ye will excuse me, laird, I have a meeting with my trainers." Before anyone could object, he strode off, flexing his hand, eager to use it to smash Archie Sinclair in the face.