Chapter 1

Clan Mackintosh, Highlands, March 1698

“Ilyssa, I need more time.”

Ilyssa did her best to keep her temper in check. Her heart was pounding so much, she could hear it echoing in her ears. Her breathing was wild, her nostrils practically flaring in anger.

She glowered at her brother, Tad, the one pleading with her. His long dark hair, tangling around his ears and the gray eyes, dark as a stormy cloud, hid his thoughts very well.

Nay, it isnae something I can dae.

“Time? Time?!” she spluttered, losing her temper completely now.

“Patience then,” Tad said, waving a hand toward her. “Be patient and trust me. I will get ye out of this.”

“Aye, aye, because that has gone well so far, hasnae it?” She turned and marched away from him, up and down the study they found themselves in that evening.

She and her brother were staying at Mackintosh castle, as they often did. But where once they had played as children in the grounds, these days they seemed to gather together only to discuss things that were infinitely more serious. As she paced up and down restlessly, she looked toward the Mackintosh family on the far side of the room.

Laird Alec sat behind a vast desk, his face grave and his hands steepled together. His left hand bore his wedding ring, just about the only thing in the room that glimmered in the candlelight between them all on this dark night. Sat on the desk beside him was Evander, the broadest of all the Mackintosh brothers, and the one who carried the most weapons at his hips. He also bore numerous tattoos on his body, a black mark for each man that he had killed in his life. He was their war leader, and one glance explained why. Stood off to the side of the desk was Catreena, Ilyssa’s dearest friend. Catreena was nearly as restless as Ilyssa, buffeting her white, blonde hair every few minutes and fidgeting her hands together.

“There must be a way out of this,” Ilyssa muttered, somehow hoping that someone in the room would find a way.

Alec and Evander exchanged uncertain looks. Catreena whimpered.

“I will find a way,” Tad said with sudden depth and gravity. “Ilyssa, trust me. I willnae hand ye tae that man.”

She looked around for another face she knew should be here. There were two of the Mackintosh brothers missing from this room, Dunn and Bran. Dunn was on a scouting trip to a distant clan, but Bran…

“Where’s Bran?” Ilyssa asked, looking around haphazardly.

“I’m here.”

She turned at once.

Bran had just walked in through the door of the study. The sight of him made Ilyssa’s breath hitch in her throat. He was the tallest of all of the Mackintosh family now, his dark blond hair cropped short across his temple, and the sharpness of his features suggesting he could be a brute of a man, though Ilyssa knew the truth. There was no man in this world with a heart as soft as Bran’s. Those blue eyes looked straight back at her, gleaming almost silver in the candlelight.

She itched to move toward him, as she so often did these days, though she didn’t know why. It was as if their old friendship had a power over her, more and more these days, as she faced the prospect of no longer being as close to him as before.

“Well?” Bran asked, stepping further into the room and looking between her and Tad expectantly.

“Ask me dear older braither.” She jerked her head toward him, her wryness plain. “He keeps saying we need more time.”

“I am doing all I can,” Tad said, his sharpness matching her own.

“Then it’s nae enough,” Catreena suddenly cried. She crossed the room and moved to Ilyssa’s side, clasping their hands together. Ilyssa held tightly onto her friend. “Tad, ye are a laird. Can ye nae just tell this man he has nay claim on Ilyssa? That he cannae marry her?”

“I’m a laird, nae a king,” Tad muttered.

“Yer arrogance suggests ye believe ye are.”

“As kind as always, Catreena,” he said mockingly.

“Enough.” Ilyssa pleaded. She was in no mood for Tad and Catreena’s repeated arguments and dislike for one another. She was facing a future far away from them, married to a man she did not know or like. She needed to face this future now. “I cannae marry him, Tad. I cannae dae it.”

“And I would never, ever, give ye away tae this man,” Tad said, standing tall. He looked almost as tall as Bran at that moment, and as intimidating. “Yet it isnae the case of clicking me fingers and changing the world. It does nae work like that.”

Ilyssa looked at Bran, pleadingly. She said nothing, but there had to be something in her gaze that communicated her desperation for he grimaced. A small whimpering sound escaped her lips. She released Catreena’s hands and fell back down into the nearest settle bench near the fire. Her rigid spine and elegant posture left her as she kicked out her feet in front of her.

“Let me see the contract again,” Bran pleaded.

Ilyssa’s eyes traced Bran. She had no idea why she did it, she just watched him in the firelight as he took the contract from Tad’s grasp.

“It just appeared in me study last week, I swear it,” Tad declared with vigor. “I went over every inch of our faither’s study when he died and thereafter again. Nae once did I find this.” He gestured to it with derision. “Now, it’s suddenly there, with me grandfaither’s signature at the bottom? I cannae understand it.”

“Hmm.” Bran frowned, staring down at the contract.

Ilyssa felt an urge to raise a hand and softly draw her fingers across Bran’s creased temple, to somehow soften it and make him smile again, in the way that he only ever seemed to smile at her. When her stomach somersaulted, she looked away.

What is wrong with me?

“And ye are certain this is yer grandfaither’s signature?” Bran asked, his manner calm, though Ilyssa knew him well enough to know he was feeling anything but. As chief advisor to his elder brother, it was Bran’s job to stay calm when the darkest of dangers hovered.

“It looks like it,” Tad murmured.

“And yer opinion is something we are trusting, is it?” Catreena asked bitterly.

“Catreena, enough,” Bran warned.

Ilyssa looked between the Mackintoshes. It didn’t seem to matter that Laird Alec was the eldest. Any one of them would have probably called Bran the fatherly figure of the lot of them. He was certainly the most protective.

“Listen tae me, Ilyssa.” Tad walked toward her and sat down in a settle bench opposite her. He leaned forward, his tanned features strong in the firelight. “I have a plan, but it will take careful organizing.”

“What is it?” she asked impatiently.

“Ye must go tae meet Cillian Grant and his faither, Laird Gilroy.”

“Are ye mad!?” Catreena cried aloud before Ilyssa could even respond.

“I’ll agree with me sister on this occasion,” Bran said, marching toward the settle bench where Tad sat. “Ye are surely nae going tae hand Ilyssa over tae him?”

“Permit me some intelligence, if ye will.” Tad kept his voice level. He glanced briefly at Bran then turned his gaze on Alec too, who urged him to go on.

“I think it wise ye explain yer thoughts quickly, me friend,” Alec encouraged, “or ye’ll have many angry people surrounding ye.”

“Think about it.” Tad leaned toward Ilyssa, his hands palm outward, like he was trying to calm a wild animal. “If ye are tae go tae him under the pretense of getting tae ken yer husband, then it buys us time. Laird Gilroy Grant will nay longer be chasing me and insisting I follow through our grandfaither’s promise. He’ll be content that ye have been delivered tae his clan and are becoming acquainted with yer future husband.”

“Ye are sending me there… alone!?” Ilyssa moved to her feet, towering over her brother.

“I didnae say that.” Tad held up a single finger. “I would come with ye… at first.”

“First!?” She had never been one for violence, but at this moment, she was tempted to lash out at her brother.

“I will come with ye tae make an offer tae Laird Gilroy Grant. Instead of giving ye tae his son, I’ll offer money, lands, anything I can in yer place. If he turns me down, then I’ll return home tae see what I can gather as an alternative offer.”

“That still sounds like ye are leaving her alone,” Catreena pointed out.

“Dae ye have a better idea, little Catreena?” Tad challenged.

“Argh!” Ilyssa groaned aloud in frustration. She could not contend with Catreena’s and Tad’s sparring today, nor the way he liked to call her ‘little Catreena’ because she was so much younger than him. “Ye would deliver me intae the viper’s nest and leave me there? Have ye nae heart?”

“I’m doing what I can tae get ye out of this.” Tad was now on his feet too, matching her in volume. “Can ye think of a better way out of this contract?”

“Send me with her.” Bran cut in suddenly. The calm tone was such a contrast to their loud and furious voices that it silenced them all.

Ilyssa peered around Tad’s shoulder, looking at Bran, who had still not raised his gaze from the contract in his grasp. The parchment was old and yellowing, curled at the edges. It was testament to the document’s age though none of them wished to believe the alliance and promise of marriage made in that contact was real.

It seemed shortly after Ilyssa was born, her hand had been promised in marriage by her grandfather to the son of Laird Gilroy Grant, Cillian Grant. It was a promise that had never been mentioned to her by her father nor her grandfather, so she couldn’t make herself believe it.

“What did ye say?” Laird Alec was the first to speak up in reply.

Ilyssa blinked, certain she had also heard Bran wrong.

Bran folded up the contract calmly and placed it back in Tad’s grasp.

“Send me with her,” he urged. “That way she’s protected.”

“Aye, and that will look good, willnae it?” Alec challenged, lowering his hands from in front of him and leaning on the desk. “Tae send ye with Ilyssa alone will infer that ye two are intimately acquainted. A man and a lass traveling alone will surely lead others tae speculate at a betrothal between ye.”

Illysa’s stomach lurched.

A betrothal?

Bran didn’t look at her as the words were said. His inability to glance at her now was unusual in itself. How often had they exchanged meaningful glances across rooms, unable to interpret one another’s thoughts through those looks alone?

“I willnae let her go unprotected,” Bran said simply, holding his brother’s gaze.

“Then send me too,” Catreena urged, stepping forward.

“Aye, a great guard dog ye’ll make,” Tad challenged dismissively, waving his hand at her in dismissal. “Little Catreena. How will ye fight off a man like Cillian Grant if he makes a move on me sister?”

“I’m nae half as useless as ye like tae think I am–”

“Before ye two have another argument–” Bran stepped between them, holding up his hand and silencing them. He moved closer to Ilyssa as well. She swallowed nervously, around a sudden lump in her throat. “It could work. Catreena could be seen as accompanying Ilyssa as her good friend, and I am Catreena’s braither, therefore escorting the two of them in yer absence, Tad. Aye, it could work, couldnae it?”

Tad tapped his chin in thought, returning to the settle bench behind him.

“What would ye dae?” Ilyssa asked Bran quietly. He moved to her side, raising his eyebrows.

“What dae ye think, Ilyssa? If he makes one move toward ye…” He left the sentence hanging, not needing to say anymore. He lowered one of his hands loosely to his belt, looping his fingers around the handle of a dirk. He may not have carried as many weapons as Evander did, but the threat was strong enough to make Ilyssa raise her head a little higher.

Aye, he’ll take care of me.

She smiled at him, as she could not remember smiling at Bran before. He said nothing, and only looked back at her, but there was not a trace of a smile on his own lips.

Wait… daes he fear the future? Does he think this plan willnae work tae help me escape a marriage tae Cillian Grant?

“Aye, it could work,” Tad said suddenly. “What dae ye think, Alec?”

“I agree.” Alec nodded slowly. “Though I’d urge ye nae tae leave Catreena and Ilyssa in that clan fer too long, Tad.”

“I wouldnae. It’s just if Laird Gilroy doesnae accept me first offer, I will have tae return tae make further plans.”

“Then we have an agreement.” Alec stood from behind his desk. “Tad, when will ye all have tae leave?”

“In a week,” Tad said calmly.

Ilyssa shot him a quick glare.

“Fer how long have ye been planning this little trip? Have ye already written tae Laird Gilroy tae make arrangements without speaking tae me first?” she asked, her voice harsher than before. Tad raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “Ye–”

“Rat,” Catreena finished before Ilyssa could.

“Walk a day in me shoes, both of ye,” Tad said coolly. “Then ye may understand why I did what I did.” He didn’t bother looking at Catreena but matched Ilyssa’s glare. “It’s the only plan I’ve got, sister.”

She was still furious at him, but a soft touch suddenly ran down her arm. She looked around, the anger she had been feeling sizzling in her stomach now softening to a soft smolder as she saw it was Bran’s hand. He had touched her, comfortingly.

“Trust us,” he whispered.

She didn’t nod. She was too busy wondering at that smoldering feeling in her stomach.

“Well, now we have that agreed, I am going tae see me wife,” Alec said, walking out from behind his desk.

“How is Kira?” Evander asked, who up until now had stayed quite silent in their meeting, clearly taking it all in, but choosing not to comment.

“She’s well.” Alec smiled in such a ridiculous way that Ilyssa’s gut curled in envy.

He loves his wife. Why is it so mad fer the rest of us tae want that happiness in marriage?

“And ye run at her beck and call, dae ye nae?” Tad asked with a sudden barking laugh, which sounded more like the rasping woof of a dog. “Nae the laird in the bedchamber, are ye?”

Evander laughed at this idea, but Catreena tutted loudly. Ilyssa was not paying attention. She was rocking back and forth on her feet, distracted, for Bran had passed another one of those soothing touches down her arm again. It made her stomach heat in an unfamiliar way.

“I’m happy as things are, Tad,” Alec said with a beaming smile. “Let’s see if ye are still the laird in yer own bedchamber when ye someday marry.”

“See?” Catreena waved a hand at her elder brother. “He’s happy. He’s in love. Only a man like ye, Tad, would jest about something like that.”

“A man like me? What does that mean?” Tad asked, gesturing at himself.

Ilyssa managed to snatch her gaze away from Bran at her side, looking at Catreena’s humored expression.

“Come off it, braither,” Ilyssa beat Catreena to the words. “Ye dinnae ken what it is like tae spend two nights in one lady’s bed, let alone commit tae one woman ferever. Leave Alec tae his happiness.”

Alec, however, looked unaffected by the jesting. He wished them all a good night and left the room.

Catreena and Tad started arguing again, with poor Evander stepping between them and suggesting that they make peace for a while as they were to go on a trip together. Amongst all the noise, Ilyssa sighed heavily and returned to her settle bench, slumping down in the seat. Bran sat down beside her, his arm bumping hers.

“Tell me the truth,” she whispered beneath the cover of arguing voices, so only Bran could hear her. “Dae ye think I have much chance of avoiding this marriage? Or… am I doomed?”

Bran jerked his head toward her. Suddenly, there was no calmness in his countenance at all. She didn’t think she had ever glimpsed this fury in him before.

“Cillian Grant will have tae step over me dead body in a church before he gets ye tae the altar. Trust me, Ilyssa. Ye willnae have tae marry him.”

She blinked, stunned at the sternness in his words. They both snapped their gazes away and stared at their siblings arguing together, but once again, that simmering feeling had started in Ilyssa’s gut. It had little to do with fear or anger now, and everything to do with the way Bran had declared the words.

He’s always so quick tae protect me. He’s always been at me side.

She wondered just how far he may have to go to keep his promise if she was going to avoid meeting Cillian Grant at the altar.