Chapter 2

“Ye are insufferable,” Catreena muttered darkly.

“Says the woman who cannae stop speaking tae me.”

“Ye bampot!”

Bran turned away from his younger sister’s argument with Tad. He urged his horse on a little further so that he drew level with Ilyssa on her own horse.

The wind was bitter, with snowflakes hovering in the air all around them. The effect was a world caked in white, as if it had been covered by icing overnight. It did not bode well for their journey to the Grant clan, though Bran didn’t say as much. Ilyssa’s quietness was unusual enough to warrant an omen.

Bran tore his gaze from the arguing pair behind him with some difficulty. His sister was red in the face from the strength of their argument, as Tad looked around the nearby snowy hills with indifference, taking their argument in his stride as he so often did. Bran had once thought that growing up the pair would calm them down eventually. Maybe, Catreena would start to look at Tad as an older brother, for the families were close enough, but he had been sorely mistaken.

As Tad had grown into a strong laird, perhaps somewhat wild in his personal habits and what bed he chose to make his own, he had grown even tarter in his language. Catreena, a woman who had a distinct sense of what was right and just in the world, had no liking for him at all.

“Ilyssa?” Bran whispered, shifting his horse toward her. She lifted her head mournfully, her eyes finding his own. His heartbeat quickened a little, though he tried his best to ignore it. She’d had such an effect on him for years now, though he always did his best not to overthink the reasons for it. “Are ye…”

“Well?” she scoffed, her lip curling, though it wasn’t a genuine smile. “Ye ask me that?” She shook her head in disbelief and buried her face in the wolf furs that were wrapped around her as she led their group down the hill, along a scrub path.

Bran hurried to catch up with her again, keeping his horse close to her side.

“Ye are quieter than usual,” he observed. “Usually by now, ye would have insisted we take some detour tae see some beautiful place. Or ye would have asked tae play a game out in this snow.”

“Ye always see me as the troublemaker, dinnae ye?” she challenged.

When he made no answer other than raising his eyebrow, she laughed a little. His heart leapt to see it.

That is the first genuine smile in a week.

“Ilyssa,” he whispered, steering his horse so close to hers now that their legs brushed against each other. Her smile vanished from her face. There was something in those eyes he couldn’t discern, some sort of startled effect. He put it down to her fear of what was to come as she hid half of her face once again in the wolf furs around her neck. “Trust me. Ye willnae be made tae marry him.”

She jerked her head once and looked uneasily back in the direction of her brother, but Tad didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy still arguing with Catreena.

Determined to have her attention, Bran reached out toward her. He caught her hand off the reins and took it in his own. It was cold to the touch because of the snowy weather, though she hadn’t complained, not once.

“Trust me,” he pleaded again, encasing her hand in his own.

“Ye have always watched over me, have ye nae?” she whispered. For some reason, she didn’t look at him as she said these words but looked out at the untouched snow ahead of them.

“I wouldnae have it any other way.” He couldn’t tell her why it was. How could he put into words that ever since they were little, he had felt this need to protect her? To be the one she counted on, perhaps even more than her own brother?

“Bran, I –” she began, but was cut off by Catreena’s complaint behind them.

“I’m freezing!” she declared loudly. “We need tae stop fer the night soon.”

“What would be the point?” Ilyssa called back. She pulled her hand out of Bran’s own and returned it to the reins. Strangely, his palm felt even colder without her touch. “I am going tae me doom anyway. I might as well just get there.”

“Ilyssa,” Tad barked in a low undertone from behind them. “Ye are nae condemned tae this future.”

Bran didn’t bother trying to persuade her out of this thought on this occasion. He could see by the way her eyes couldn’t rest, but darted across the snow hills, that no words would be enough. He could hardly blame her for it. Were they not escorting her to the man’s clan now, ready for a betrothal?

“Catreena is right,” Tad went on. “We should break fer the night.”

“Be still me beating heart,” Catreena exclaimed dramatically. “Ye actually agree with me on something?”

“Ye are kenned tae say something true every now and then. If only by chance.”

“Hey!” Catreena snapped.

“Enough.” Bran angled around in his saddle and glowered at the two of them. Tad held up his hands in innocence and nodded, showing he would play nice, but Catreena looked too outraged to possibly make such a promise.

“I ken a place,” Tad said, halting his horse and pointing to another path that led down the hill in another direction. “There’s a village at the bottom of this path. They have an inn with good food, and some good taverns too, kenned for their drinks and their… company.”

“That’s all ye think of, isnae it?” Catreena scoffed. “Ye simply want tae stop fer the night so ye can be warmed by some lass’ bed.”

Ilyssa suddenly flicked the reins of her horse and shot past them all, heading in the direction of this path. However, while Catreena and Tad continued yet another argument, Bran did not wait around to hear it. He raced after Ilyssa, catching up with her quickly, though he barely cast a glance on his path. His eyes repeatedly darted to Ilyssa.

As they reached the bottom of the hill, riding in complete silence, the only sound the horses’ hooves crunching the snow beneath them, he could not stop staring at Ilyssa.

His mind was wandering. He couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to see Ilyssa walking down a church aisle, greeted by pipers and draped in the tartan colors of her clan. Her skin would glow, her dark hair threaded with the white flowers she loved so much, as she clutched onto another bouquet full of them. He saw her smile, the happiness, the excitement, and it made some strange sensation in his stomach bloom. Then he pictured her standing beside a stranger at the altar and it suddenly felt like he had been punched in the gut. Cillian Grant.

As they entered the village, Bran fell back behind Ilyssa, staring at her back. He couldn’t get rid of that pain in his gut now, thinking of her marring Cillian Grant, being tied to such a man…

Until death dae they part.

“Bran? Ye well?” Tad’s voice suddenly disturbed his thoughts as they reached the inn. Bran jumped down as the rest did, but he was still distracted, glancing repeatedly in Ilyssa’s direction who plainly didn’t notice. “What is it?” Tad stepped toward him, speaking with a gravely undertone.

“Just thinking of what may lay ahead at the Grant clan. That’s all.” Bran didn’t want to elaborate anymore. He may not understand what he was feeling, but he was fairly certain that Tad would be shocked if Bran said he couldn’t bear the thought of Ilyssa marrying any man.

They stepped into the inn and Bran stood off to the side, not making conversation with anyone. Ilyssa and Catreena stood together, murmuring as they warmed themselves by the fire. Tad returned a second later with two keys in his hands. He raised one toward the ladies. Catreena tried to snatch the key from him, but he held it high over her head, taunting her.

“Tad,” Ilyssa warned. “Give me the key.”

“Ye?” Tad scoffed and shook his head. “Last time I give ye a room key tae look after, ye sneaked out of the room and I had tae traipse after ye. I found ye walking around in the hills.”

“Hmm, tempting,” she whispered, turning her gaze to the nearest window. “That would be better than going tae the man ye are taking me tae meet.”

Tad and Catreena laughed at her jest, but Bran couldn’t summon a smile. He was imagining a series of men now beside Ilyssa in that church, but the more men he pictured, the more worked up he was becoming.

I have tae get out of here.

“Keep an eye on her,” Tad whispered to Catreena, passing her the key. “And dinnae let her out of that room.”

“Ah, ye trust me with something, da ye?”

“Nay. I just have nay other tae turn tae.”

Catreena and Ilyssa both pointed in Bran’s direction. He raised his eyebrows too at these strange words from Tad. Bran would have been quite content to stand outside Ilyssa’s door all night and guard it.

“I was thinking Bran and I could visit one of the taverns. The Black Bull nearby is run by a friend of mine. What dae ye say, Bran?” Tad turned to him with a roguish smile. They all knew what was on his mind, but Bran hardly cared.

As long as Tad kept his wandering eye anywhere but on Catreena, he was content. Tad was much older than Catreena, so Bran knew the chances were slim, but there had been one night a few years ago at a feast where both Bran and Dunn had noticed Tad watching Catreena a little too much as she danced at the feast. They had made it clear to Tad they would never accept him treating Catreena as he did the other women in his life. Horrified, Tad had vowed he would never do that to their sister and was aware she was off limits.

“Come on,” Tad said, noting Bran’s hesitation. “I could dae with the company fer a drink.”

“I’m sure ye’ll find other company quickly enough.” Bran glanced at Ilyssa again with the words. Part of him wished to stay there, guarding her door. Another part wanted to be far away from her at that moment, so he could make sense of why the image of her at an altar upset him so much. “Aye, very well. I’ll go fer that drink.”

“Excellent!” Tad clapped him on the shoulder then turned to Ilyssa. “Now, ye’ll stay in yer room, aye? Come morning, we’ll continue on tae the Grant clan.”

“Feel free nae tae come back at all if that’s where ye’re taking me,” Ilyssa jested. Tad offered a warming touch to her shoulder, a silent one that urged her to trust him. Her manner softened, but only a little.

“Come, Bran, let’s go.” As Tad swept back toward the door, Bran hesitated.

Catreena was already heading toward a staircase nearby, heading up to the room they had for the night, but Ilyssa had not followed. She stayed at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes on Bran as she fidgeted with the wolf furs wrapped around her shoulders.

“I can stay, if ye wish me tae,” he whispered. For some reason, he wished she would ask it of him.

“I have nay need.” She suddenly smiled, and he suspected it was rather forced. She turned away and hurried up the stairs after Catreena. “Enjoy the drink, Bran.”

Bran reluctantly followed Tad out of the door, but not before hesitating. His eyes traced Ilyssa at the top of the stairs, then she was gone.