2. Whispers, Secrets, and the Bitter Bargain

2

WHISPERS, SECRETS, AND THE BITTER BARGAIN

“ W hat am I doing here?” James nearly shouted back. “Ye must be daft or playing some kind of joke. Ye have both been missing for hours. Half the village is looking for ye. The other half are saying their prayers in hopes that nothing bad has happened.”

“But it has only been—” Taryn cut off her argument as soon as she saw the setting sun. “Och, nay,” she groaned.

“Och, aye. While ye two have been playing pretend, ye have sent the rest of us on a wild goose chase.”

“This is the only time she ever gets outside, James,” Laura retorted fiercely. “She wants to run away and leave us all behind because they treat her so poorly. I was just trying to give us a wee bit of fun before she has to go back.”

Taryn’s cheeks flushed pink at the way Laura revealed all of her secrets. She expected James to scoff and ask how horrible life in the castle could really be, or where Taryn was planning on running away to. Not that she was planning anything of the kind, but those would be fair questions. However, James did none of that. He simply looked over at her, studying her, as if that would be enough to discern the truth behind Laura’s claims.

“Is that why ye are practicing with my old bow? Making sure ye are ready for whatever monsters might be lurking in the trees?”

Though he was only teasing, trying to defuse the tension, Taryn felt her chin notch higher into the air with pride. James seemed to take that as her answer.

“All right then. Let’s see how ye can do. Go ahead,” he directed, “and try to land one in that tree over there.”

Her eyes followed the direction of his pointed finger, and she tried not to give any reaction. It was twice the distance she had managed so far, but she didn’t want him to know that.

She had never dared to say anything to Laura, but James had a very distinct effect on Taryn’s nerves. Every time he was around, her stomach would twist in knots, her palms would go clammy, and her words would come out a jumbled mess. She wasn’t exactly sure when this had started, but she guessed it was not long after James had grown a foot seemingly overnight. His voice had gotten deeper, richer, and thanks to all the training he did as a McGregor guard, his shoulders nearly doubled in size.

She was always astounded to see just how different siblings could look whenever she was around Laura and James at the same time. Where Laura’s hair was long, sandy, and bent in soft waves, James’ hair was a deep chestnut brown that he kept cut too short to see the curl there. His skin was rich from his days out in the sun, whereas Laura’s face was pale with a smattering of freckles that danced across the bridge of her nose. It was more likely for someone to mistake Laura for Taryn’s sister than James’ what with their matching hair and skin color. If not for the same piercing shade of green in their eyes, Taryn would hardly believe them to be related.

It was James’ rich green eyes with streaks of gold in them that stared at Taryn now, issuing a challenge. Clenching her jaw, Taryn notched an arrow in the bow and lifted it, pulling the string back until it was taut. She ignored the burning in her shoulder and the way the string cut into the curve of her fingers. Willing her breath to steady, she locked eyes on the tree that James had pointed to and tried to block everything else out.

“Any day now.”

His remark made her jump just as she let the arrow fly. As she had feared, it landed halfway between where she stood and the tree she had been aiming at. Embarrassed, she turned and glared.

“Ye ruined my concentration. I missed the shot because of ye.”

“Nay, ye missed the shot because ye had a weak stance and were pointing the bow too low.”

Taryn clenched her jaw and shoved the bow into James’ chest, ready to stomp off back towards the village and hope to forget the entire embarrassing incident. But his hands were too quick.

“Come here,” he ordered softly. “Let me show ye.”

Debating on whether or not to listen to him, Taryn cast a searching glance at Laura. Her friend merely nodded encouragingly, blind to the crackling energy between her and James. With a sigh, Taryn relented and took back the bow.

“Stand like this,” he demonstrated with an imaginary weapon.

She tried her best to copy him, squaring off her hips and rotating her shoulders just so. It felt awkward and stiff. Beside her, Laura copied James as well, though her stance looked much more natural.

“One at a time. Ye first, Laura.”

James walked past Taryn and spent several minutes instructing his sister. He was brisk and impatient but after three tries, Laura managed to get the arrow all the way to the tree trunk.

“Look at that!” she shouted, jumping up and down in excitement.

“A wee bit more practice and ye will be an expert at this in nay time,” James promised before turning his eyes back to Taryn. “Yer turn.”

Taking the bow from Laura who then trotted off to fetch the arrows, Taryn tried to avoid James’ eyes. She instead focused on her stance once more. Stepping her feet apart, Taryn twisted with the bow and started to pull it back.

“Slow down,” he instructed. “Yer feet are nae wide enough and yer shoulders are nae in the right spot. Try to get them completely in line with yer feet and only turn yer head.”

She did as he said, but he still wasn’t pleased.

“Like this,” he showed again.

But when she shifted, he grumbled. Before she could utter an objection, James was standing behind her, his chest pressed against her back. With a tap of his foot against hers, Taryn widened her stance until he was satisfied. His right hand moved from the back of her shoulder to the front, brushing her pale hair out of the way before tugging her arms back. Butterflies began to float low in her stomach.

“Leave the bow loose in yer hands and pull yer shoulders back so they are pressed into me. Aye. Now, try to lift the bow without letting yer shoulders come off my chest.”

Too dazed to argue, she obeyed without complaint.

“Now do it again, but this time try to draw back the string.”

Laura still had her back turned to them, having nearly reached the tree where the arrows sat. Using all her strength, Taryn pulled on the string.

“Something is still nae right,” his hot breath went down her spine.

His left hand went up and brushed against her jaw bone, aligned with her eye.

“The string should sit here when ye are ready to fire.”

“I cannae pull it back any farther,” Taryn told him. “My arms are already burning.”

“That is yer problem then.”

She let go of the tension on the bow and let it fall again in defeat. His hand left her face and snaked around her waist.

“Here,” he said, patting her core. “Tighten these muscles. Use those to bear down before you draw back.”

Under his touch, she tightened her stomach, pulling the muscles there in, if only to get away from the burning, buzzing feeling that lay under the warm palm of his hand.

“Now, take in a slow breath and try again.”

It was nearly impossible to focus with his left hand on her corset, the right still on the top of her shoulder, his chest pressed into her back, and his words traveling down her spine. But she did her best to follow his instructions as best she could.

“Aye,” he praised and stepped away from her just as soon as Laura turned to head back to them, her hands full of arrows. “Just like that, and ye will have nay problems landing the arrow in the tree.”

His approval turned her cheeks a deep shade of red, and she let the unarmed bow fall once more. He had moved so quickly that she was left feeling cold and exposed, despite the layers of petticoats and wool that still covered every inch of her.

“Ready?” Laura called out, completely unaware of what had just happened.

Taryn swallowed and nodded, taking one of the arrows with shaking hands. She turned her focus to the task and let James’ instructions float in her mind once more. She could still feel the way his palm burned through her corset where he had held her. Tightening her stomach once more, she drew the bow back and sent the arrow flying. It landed in the trunk of the tree with a satisfying thunk.

“That was amazing!” Laura exclaimed, impressed by her friend’s skill.

Giving her friend a small smile, Taryn looked to James for his reaction. He offered a proud nod before nodding to the side.

“We need to get back. We have spent more than enough time here.”

Neither of the girls gave any disagreement as they walked back through the trees. Laura had her arm looped around Taryn’s and was chattering away about something, but Taryn couldn’t focus on anything her friend was saying.

“Ye stay here,” James told Laura just as they reached their family shop. “Mum is expecting ye. I will see Taryn back to the castle.”

The two friends hugged each other tightly.

“Thank ye for the adventure,” Taryn whispered, meaning every word.

Laura squeezed her a bit tighter before letting go and turning Taryn over to the care of her brother.

“I can make it back on my own,” Taryn told James just as soon as they were alone. “I dinnae need an escort. The path is lit well enough.”

“Ye may nae need an escort, but ye will certainly need a lookout,” he said with the same mischievous grin Laura often wore.

It looked entirely different, though no less appealing on his face.

“Ye are going to help me sneak back inside?” she asked incredulously.

“Of course. Ye can pretend ye fell asleep reading or something and did nae hear the calls for ye. I would hate to see ye in trouble and kept from visiting Laura. She loves it when ye come for a visit.”

Despite the kindness of his sentiment, Taryn’s heart still fell just a bit in knowing that James was only doing this for the sake of his sister.

“We all do,” he added under his breath.

It was said so quietly that Taryn didn’t think he would thank her for commenting on his remark, but it made her stomach flutter all the same.

The walk back felt so much faster than her journey out of the castle. Before she had thought of something clever to say, they were already halfway to the stables. She let her hands swing by her sides freely, hoping for the chance that her fingers would brush against his.

“How ye managed to charm Cook, I will never understand,” James told her with a smile and a shake of his head. “That old bat makes it clear to everyone how wee she cares for nearly all of us.”

“Well, I dinnae call her an ‘old bat’ for starters,” she said with a laugh. “Besides, there are few who can withstand my smile.”

It was a statement made in a fleeting moment of boldness. One that had her cheeks pink as she wished she could take the words back. The smell of hay and animals floated through the air, reminding her that her short time with James was about to end. It was the only thing that made her not regret her flirtatious comment.

She stepped under the stable roof, letting it block out what little remained of the sunlight. Her courage having bolstered again, she looked to find that James was now several steps behind her, unmoving and grinning, his green eyes wide. The sight of him, with his broad shoulders nearly taking up the width of the doorway, the golden sunlight coating him, and his tousled hair shifting in the breeze brought Taryn to a halt. She twisted on her feet and sent him a questioning look.

For that brief moment, neither of them moved. It was the kind of moment that Taryn could pretend she was a normal girl, not one whose entire life had been planned for her since the moment she was born. And James was a normal boy who was worthy of her attention, not someone her parents would claim was below her standing.

This was the rare kind of moment when Taryn nearly allowed herself to hope that her life could be different, that she might have a future with James, sisters and McGregor Clan business forgotten. The longer they watched each other, the more electric the moment became. Her stomach tightened, as if his hand were still there, pressing her into him.

James stepped toward her. It was the first time she had ever seen him timid. One step followed the next and with it, his jaw tensed decisively. The last steps he took to cover the distance between them were too fast for Taryn to stop. Before she knew it, his hand was on her face once more, brushing another stray tendril of her light blonde hair out of the way.

“Taryn, I?—”

The horse residing in the stall they were standing in front of let out a disgruntled whinny that made Taryn jump. James’ hand fell from her cheekbone and settled on the hilt of the sword he carried off his belt. She glanced at the rich brown coated horse with frustration at how quickly the moment between her and James could be ruined.

Opening her mouth to say something, though what she hadn’t figured out yet, Taryn looked back at James. He had moved once more until he was a respectable distance away and was no longer looking at her. Snapping her jaw shut, Taryn heard the voices James had picked up on.

“We can nae spare another second. Ye must go. Now.”

She desperately wanted to argue with him. To plead for a way out, the chance to spend her life with Laura and the rest of their family. She could work in the shop or live out on the road. She wanted to go anywhere but back inside her prison walls. But when he finally met her eyes, she saw the growing worry his held and said nothing. Her desires for freedom were not worth him losing his job over.

“I can go from here. Cook will let me in. I will take the servants’ passages back to my rooms. Dinnae fash. I will be fine.”

Taryn didn’t give James the chance to respond before she turned on her heel and walked inside.

The rich smell of spices and onions from the dinner Cook was preparing greeted her along with a worried look from Cook herself. Taryn offered no answers or placating reassurances. She simply kept going until she reached the darkened corner of the entrance to the servants’ hall.

“Oi! Ye cannae be in here, ye?—”

Cook’s shouts echoed off the stone walls, but Taryn paid them no mind. She knew it was nothing more than a wayward child looking to steal a roll or two. It wasn’t until a firm grip on her shoulder landed that she slowed to a stop.

“Dinnae be angry with me,” James whispered, his expression concealed by shadows. “It is nae that I wish to part from ye, only that I would nae like to see ye in trouble with the Laird. I think only of ye.”

Taryn nodded in a daze.

“Go now. I will see ye again soon.”

His order was softened by a kiss pressed to the cheek he had caressed twice already. Just as quickly as he had appeared, James left again, leaving her leaning against the wall for support as her fingers held the skin he had kissed.

The rest of the journey back to her rooms sent Taryn soaring. Her day had entirely turned around in a way she had never expected. Her mother’s earlier criticisms had disappeared the second Taryn had stepped foot outside. All she could think about now was the way the trees whispered as they danced in the breeze, the way the bow had felt in her hands, James’ kindness, and his kiss.

Having completely forgotten herself, too distracted by the day, Taryn let the door to her room slam shut behind her. The noise reverberated through her empty chambers. She winced knowing exactly what was coming next.

Taking advantage of the few spare minutes she might have, Taryn ducked behind the changing screen and pulled off her gown. Mud and leaves had gotten stuck to the hem. Her boots were just as messy. The sight of them both would be a sure giveaway for just where Taryn had been. Working quickly, she pulled on her rosy pink gown. It was her mother’s favorite, despite the fact that Taryn felt it washed out all color from her face.

As soon as she was dressed, Taryn moved to the vanity and picked up her brush. The first few pulls had her head jerking back with the tangled mess. She had only just started to get it sorted when Rowena burst into the room, not bothering to knock.

“Where have ye been, young lady?”

Her eyes were narrowed, taking in Taryn’s appearance, searching for anything that might be out of order.

“Father ordered me out, so that is what I did,” Taryn answered, intentionally twisting her father’s words to suit her.

“Ye ken verra well that is nae what he meant. When have ye ever been allowed out of the castle without an escort? Ye are the sole heir for Laird McGregor. Yer place is here or do ye forget that?”

Taryn kept silent. Her mother never let her forget just where her place was. Or what was expected of her. She doubted that was the response her mother was looking for.

Wrenching the brush out of Taryn’s hand, Rowena finished the job hastily. She paid no mind to Taryn’s winces or just how much hair was being pulled out, but still Taryn said nothing. By the time her golden strands were smoothed and laying in place, Rowena’s anger had dissipated, though her expression warned that Taryn was on tenuous ground.

“There,” Rowena proclaimed. “Now ye are ready.”

“Ready for what?” Taryn questioned nervously.

“Yer father has requested yer presence in the study. Come.”

Dutifully, Taryn walked after her mother’s brisk pace. There was no time for Taryn to admire her favorite portraits of their ancestors or take in the alarming number of weapons that were hanging from the walls in the Great Hall as they passed. Her eyes stayed on the ground, watching her matching pink slippers glide over the fresh rushes that covered the floor.

“Shoulders back, head straight. Try nae to embarrass me.”

Rowena’s cold words stung more than any heated rebuke might have. Still, Taryn did as she was told, fixing her posture into the painful angle her mother wanted her shoulders and back to be before entering the study.

Though it wasn’t truly his, Taryn had always thought of this room as her father’s. The worn green patterned rug that sat in front of the small fireplace, the nearly black leather chairs with the small marble table in between them, even the rows and rows of books turned with their spines inside the bookcase to protect their expensive gilded lettering all reminded Taryn of him. She had been inside this room only a handful of times but never before had it felt so full.

Her mother stood off to the side of the singular window, the moonlight giving her an imposing silhouette. Her father was behind the desk, his worn maps spread in front of him with small statues depicting each of the Highland clan lairds across the page. She came up to the chairs that sat opposite of the desk and folded her hands.

“Father, I am so sorry to have left the castle grounds today. I thought when ye bade me outside, ye meant?—”

“Taryn!”

The sharpness in his voice had her fall immediately silent.

“How many times must I tell ye nae to speak until ye are spoken to? I did nae ask ye in here to discuss how ye spent the afternoon. Ye have been brought up to be a responsible young lady. I expect ye to behave as such. Anything less will have to be dealt with. Now, sit. Yer mother and I have news.”

Moving to the front of the chairs, Taryn sat and smoothed her skirts. She had no idea what to expect, but when her mother moved around to stand beside her father, Taryn could never have imagined the words that would come next.

“Ye are to be married. Within a fortnight.”

Taryn’s throat went dry. Her lungs burned with the effort it took to breathe.

“Och, dinnae look so ungrateful,” her mother reprimanded. “Yer father has found ye a great match. Tell her, Jonah.”

“As ye ken well, my brother, Laird McGregor, does nae have any bairns of his own. And since his wife died in childbirth all those years ago, he has refused to take a new one. That leaves ye, as my only daughter, the last of our family lineage. It is a great position of honor and respect. As such, Laird McGregor has asked a favor of ye, and I have agreed on yer behalf.”

“Married,” she whispered, her thoughts running wild.

“Aye, as I said,” her father agreed, pressing on as if she had not spoken at all. “We have been having some problems with our southern borders. There is an English Lord who has assured us these problems will cease, but as payment, he will accept only ye. Word of yer beauty has traveled to him, and he has decided he wants ye as his wife. Of course, for so little a price, I did nae dare argue.”

Stunned, Taryn could offer no reply.

“Did ye nae hear yer father?” Rowena pushed. “This is a great honor. Ye will have the glory of helping to save our clan from raids and attacks. He has promised to open the roads back to our clan as soon as ye are delivered to him so we can trade once more. Ye alone are guaranteeing the safety of our clan.”

“Who?” she croaked, already knowing the answer but not wanting to believe it.

Just as rumors of her had traveled, word of an English Lord wreaking havoc had spread too. Though her parents had done their best to keep her from hearing any of them, they could not stop the maids from whispering in the corridors.

Lord Dudley was said to have burned homes with women and children stuck inside. They said he made war with whomever he pleased, so long as he got what he wanted. Worst of all, many suspected that his first wife’s accidental death was no accident. He was so feared that the girl he had been engaged with shortly after had fled. Some suspected that he hunted all throughout the Highlands to find her, and that was what had driven him to their borders.

“He is a Baron! A man of title. Ye will be a part of the English nobility,” her mother preened, avoiding the answer in a telling sign.

“His name?” Taryn tried again, more sternly this time.

“Lord Vernon Dudley.”

Her father’s indifference was a cut deeper than any Taryn had felt before. He would not look her in the eye, making Taryn believe that all those rumors the maids whispered were more than rumors. Horror welled up until Taryn couldn’t stop the words from pouring out of her.

“Nay. I will nae marry him. Nay! He is a murderer. A savage, nay matter what his title is.”

“Taryn,” Rowena hissed. “Calm yerself.”

“He killed his first wife and is hunting for the last woman who spurned him. And this is who ye have promised me to?”

“Those are just rumors, vile slander,” her father placated.

“Are they?” Taryn questioned defiantly, an eyebrow arched.

When neither her mother nor father promised her the fallacy in the rumors, Taryn stood, sure she was going to be sick.

“How could ye?” she breathed.

“That is enough,” Jonah ordered with a sternness that proved he would have made a fearsome Laird if he had ever been given the chance.

Standing to his full height, Jonah braced his hands on the desk. His fingers splayed, knocking over the little figurine that marked the McGregor Castle they were in.

“Word has already been sent to Lord Dudley. Ye are expected to be at his side in his lands within a fortnight. Between now and then, ye will head yer mother’s every word. She will see to yer wedding trousseau and what is left of yer training. There will be nay more excursions out of the castle or sneaking off. It is time for ye to grow up, Taryn. The decision has been made by me and yer Laird.” A hand sailed through the air, cutting off any further arguments. “I will hear no more on the matter.”

Her teeth clacked as she slammed her jaw shut.

“Good. Ye are nae to leave the castle walls until it is time for ye to depart to yer husband’s lands. If I find out ye have disobeyed me, the consequences will be swift and harsh.”

Taryn tucked her chin in a feeble attempt to hide her tears.

“We all have our duty to do for this clan. This is yers.”

She knew it was her father’s attempt at comforting her, but it only made her feel worse.

“That is all.”

Dismissed, Taryn rose slowly and turned from the room. She was careful to move gracefully, keeping her shoulders back with only her iron will. As soon as the study door was closed behind her, Taryn let the first tear fall.