Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The dance called for Catalina and Arne to swap partners at appropriate times. So, they went their separate ways for a minute or two and then came together again, picking up their conversation where they’d left off.

“Is disnae matter how big a man is or how mean he looks; he’ll still get nervous at times. ’Tis only human. And if he swears he disnae, then he’s a bloody liar,” Arne said, laughing and twirling her around again before they linked arms and rotated to the left. “I see ye’re havin’ trouble believin’ me, and I dinnae blame ye, the way he’s been actin’ towards ye.”

His blue eyes looked into hers, and she saw kindness and concern there. She already felt a kinship with Arne. He made it easy to get along with him, unlike his brother. She felt she could trust him.

“I dinnae ken what tae make of it. D’ye ken why he’s taken against me so strongly?” She figured she might as well ask someone who might know what went on behind Ivar’s cold front and seemed interested in helping her figure it out.

Amid the dance, Arne shook his head. “I havnae the slightest clue. I only wish I did. I’ve never seen him like this before. But dinnae give up on him just yet, Catalina. He’s a good man at heart, and I trust him with me life. As I say, he’s nervous about this weddin’. He didnae bargain on becoming a husband so soon, tae a lass he’s never met at that.”

“Fer the good of the clans and the whole district,” she said, quoting the terms inscribed on the king’s letter commanding the marriage.

“Exactly. It was the same with Haldor when he had tae marry Sofia by royal command. But look at them now.” He gestured with his eyes to the laird and his lady, who were dancing not far from them. Smiling into each other’s eyes, they appeared to be in their own world.

There was another break where they danced with different partners and then rejoined each other.

“So, ye think it could really work out fer Anastasia and Ivar then? I want her tae be happy,” Catalina said as they linked arms again and skipped to the right around each other.

“Trust me, he’ll dae naethin’ tae hurt her, if that’s what’s worryin’ ye.”

She looked up at him, amazed at his powers of perception. “Aye, it has been worryin’ me a bit,” she confessed. “That’s why I so badly wanted tae have him accept me apology,” she added with a small, rueful smile, “I wouldnae have tae keep feelin’ so guilty about me stupid blunder then.”

Arne laughed. “Aye, that can be exhaustin’. But as tae Ivar, he’ll come round, ye’ll see. Just give him a wee bit of time tae thaw out,” Arne assured her, and she felt slightly better.

However, it was soon time to exchange partners again, and while she was dancing with someone else, she saw Anastasia waving happily at her from a few feet away, dancing with a stranger. When she glanced around for Ivar, she did not have to look far, and just as she set eyes on him dancing with an older yet sprightly lady a mere arm’s length away, he looked straight at her.

Rattled by the weird shock that ran through her as their gazes locked, she quickly looked back to her sister and waved to her with as cheerful a smile as she could muster. In truth, her heart had stared to pound, and her belly was knotting up, for she realized she was now only a few minutes from having to dance with Ivar!

And how the hell am I goin’ tae dae that?

“Aye, ye’re gonnae be dancin’ with him in a moment,” was the first thing Arne said when they came back together again, clapping their hands and turning about. “Ye could try apologizin’ tae him again. He’s had a few ales. It might have softened him up by now. It might work.”

For a change Catalina had no words. Her mouth was dry and there was a cramp in her stomach. She could actually hear her heart beating. All rational thought had fled. There was just her moving numbly by rote through the well-worn steps in time to the mindless rhythm and waiting for the inevitable to happen.

Then, just as her anxiety was reaching its peak, a large warm hand closed on her arm and suddenly pulled her away from Arne’s mischief-filled eyes and into a whole new orbit.

One of her hands was swallowed up by the same large paw and raised in the air, another clasped her waist, sending a spreading warmth through her clothing that penetrated her skin and made her tingle. Her nose was suddenly pressed into a hard wall of lacy shirtfront. It smelled fresh, of pine.

In time to the beat, they skipped apart, then met again, then circled each other, hands still clasped, staring at each other as their bodies moved without thought. His stern expression never changed. His ice-blue eyes were cold, his mouth was a narrow line. Catalina could be in no doubt what he thought of her.

Determined not to show intimidated she was, Catalina lifted her chin and refused to look away.

They were turning in a circle when he suddenly blurted out, “Fer some reason, ye seem tae enjoy makin’ a fool out of me. Why is that?”

Catalina was having a hard time concentrating. Having his hands on her, touching her, was making her hot all over and robbing her of the ability to think or string words together.

“D’ye nae have any explanation fer it then?” he asked through his fixed smile, spinning her beneath his arm just a little too quickly.

She came out of the spin dazed and had to clutch at his arm. Her hand encountered a solid mass of lithe muscle flexing under his coat. It was like being scalded, and she snatched her hand away, forcing herself to pay attention to the dance.

Out of breath, she eventually managed to answer, “Are ye still harpin’ on about it? That was nae me intention at all. Can ye nae see I was tryin’ tae say I’m sorry?” It was hard to speak, for she felt like she had been struck by lightning. Either that or she had come down with a sudden fever that was burning her up.

“Ye didnae sound very sorry,” he said skeptically, linking arms with her and revolving to the right.

“I dinnae ken what more ye want me tae say,” she protested weakly, breathless.

“I dinnae want ye tae say anythin’. ’Tis clear we dinnae get on, but I dinnae want tae worry Anastasia about it. If ye want her tae be happy, as I dae, then ye’ll dae as I say.”

“Of course, I want her tae be happy!” she panted. It was at that moment that, as she twirled beneath his arm, her slipper caught the hem of her dress, and she tripped. Her feet slid out from under her, and she fully expected to feel the floor come up to meet her backside and to end up in a tangle on the floor as the dancers moved swiftly around her. That did not happen. Instead, she felt Ivar’s strong arm circle her waist, clutching her tightly as he lifted her against him, enabling her to get her feet back under her.

“Thank ye,” she murmured, righting herself, perplexed as to why he should have wished to save her from possible injury and certain embarrassment but grateful, nonetheless. They danced on. “What was it ye were sayin’?” She could not remember a word.

“D’ye ye agree that Anastasia’s happiness must come first?” he asked.

“Aye, I agree,” she said with a nod as they skipped in a circle.

“Then seein’ as we cannae seem tae get along, d’ye agree that it would be best if we stay away from each other as much as possible. And that ye should stop tryin’ tae make me look stupid whenever we meet.”

She had just opened her mouth to tell him that he did not need her help for that when she suddenly found herself back dancing with Arne.

“How did it go?” he asked, not breaking stride.

Catalina sighed, her legs like jelly, her mind in turmoil. “Nae well. Nae well at all.”

When the dance finished and a new one was announced to begin after a few minutes, she asked Arne to escort her back to the spot where they had left Dunstan. She was surprised to see his tankard was there, but he had gone. Maybe he’s gone to answer a call of nature, she thought, looking around the hall for him.

“He’s over there,” Arne suddenly said, jerking his head toward the dance floor. Catalina looked.

“Oh,” she said, taken aback to see Dunstan standing with her sister on the dance floor. They were talking, their heads close together, clearly waiting for the next dance to begin. “So, he just didnae want tae dance with me!” she huffed, already hardly in the mood for another rejection after the terse exchange with Ivar.

She watched when, as the musicians struck up a new tune, Dunstan and Anastasia took off together. After Ivar, she had neither the energy nor the inclination for more dancing, so she spent the rest of the party sitting it out and chatting to the different family members as they appeared between their stints on the dance floor. Except for Ivar, who always hung back silently during such exchanges, maintaining a strange half-smile on his otherwise unreadable face.

When the party finally broke up in the early hours of the following morning, Ivar once again attentively escorted his bride-to-be to her chambers. He was polite to Catalina, but she could detect no genuine warmth in him when he spoke to her. However, she reciprocated, contenting herself with the knowledge that Anastasia seemed more at ease, and that she and Ivar could agree on one thing at least: Anastasia’s happiness was imperative.

Accepting his polite good night and wishing him the same, she followed Anastasia into their chamber feeling unaccountably hurt by his attitude.

But there was no time to analyze it because as soon as the door was shut behind them, Anastasia turned to her and said in a beseeching tone, “I’m glad tae see ye and Ivar are getting on better now. I saw ye dancin’ together.”

“Um, aye, ye dinnae have anythin’ tae worry about on that score, sister. It seems me apology did the trick this time, eh? All is well,” Catalina said as reassuringly as she could.

“What were ye talkin’ about when ye were dancin’?” Anastasia asked curiously as she sank down into a chair to remove her slippers.

“Oh, naethin’ important. Just this and that,” Catalina hedged, feeling uncomfortable at the fib but determined to allay her sister’s worries.

“So, did he say anythin’ about me?”

“Nae directly, nay, but we agreed that we both want ye tae be happy.”

“Good. I was pleased tae see ye both makin’ an effort tae get on and put that silly misunderstandin’ behind ye.”

“Aye.” To hide her blush, Catalina turned away and went and sat on the edge of her bed, kicking off her slippers with a sigh. Her feet were aching after all the dancing.

“He’s very kind tae me,” Anastasia continued, “and he’s so braw too. I should count mesel’ lucky tae have such a husband, even if I did nae choose him mesel’. I could dae a lot worse. Of course, he didnae choose me either.”

“’Tis hard fer the both of ye,” Catalina said, trying to be diplomatic but wishing they could change the subject.

“But I still sense a deep sorrow inside him.”

Catalina looked up, her attention caught by the remark. “What d’ye think is the cause of it?” she asked, wondering if he had told Anastasia more about himself.

“I dinnae ken. He never talks about anythin’ like that,” her sister said, sounding disappointed as she let down her hair. “Maybe he will when we get tae ken each other better.”

Catalina hesitated to speak but she could not think of a good reason why she should not, seeing as Anastasia herself had brought it up. “Arne mentioned somethin’ about it when we were dancin’,” she finally admitted.

“Ye spoke tae Arne about it?!” Anastasia seemed shocked by the idea.

“Nay, he spoke tae me about it, and so did Sofia and Dahlia.”

Anastasia came and sat on the edge of the bed next to her and looked at her with wide eyes. “And what did they say?”

“They say they dinnae ken why Ivar’s actin’ so cold. That he changed a while back, that they’re all worried about him. Arne said he usually never holds a grudge like that, and that he thinks I must have really hurt his pride by knocking him unconscious like that, me bein’ a lass and all that.”

Anastasia inhaled sharply.

“He hasnae been unkind tae ye, has he?” Catalina enquired.

Anastasia shook her head. “Nay, he’s been kindness itself. As I said, if I have tae wed a stranger, I couldnae have asked fer a better one.”

“Good. I’m sure he’s too much of a gentleman tae take out his anger with me on ye.”

“Well, he hasnae so far, but we’re nae married yet.”

That made Catalina’s heart clench, and she said in an apologetic rush, “I’m so sorry about all this trouble, Ana. I never intended this to happen. But matters are mended now, eh? No need fer ye tae worry any more about it.”

“Thank ye, Cat, but ’tis difficult nae tae. Remember, all this is hard fer Ivar too, whatever ye think of him. Try tae be nice and dinnae say anythin’ tae upset him again. Can ye dae that fer me, Cat?” Anastasia asked, her eyes beseeching.

“Of course, I will.” Catalina assured her with a smile, patting her hand.

“I’m only askin’ because ye ken how important this alliance is for us. Without the MacLeod’s help, we cannae protect ourselves against Henry Chisholm for much longer.” She shuddered as she spoke that name.

“Aye, I ken,” Catalina replied, feeling a wave of despair roll over her. The sisters sat in thoughtful silence for a few moments. Then, Catalina, her heart aching, murmured, “If only we hadnae lost Brenna.”

“But we did,” Anastasia answered firmly. “And tae be truthful, if it was a choice between her marryin’ that bastard and goin’ tae heaven, then I’m happier she’s in heaven with the angels, where he cannae touch her.”

“He’s a monster.”

“Aye. He spared nae so much as a tear for her after she died even though she was his betrothed. Within hours of hearin’ the news, never mind us all grievin’, he was demanding that Faither hand me overas a replacement fer his lost bride.”

“The scum! Thank God Faither realized what sort of a man he’d betrothed his daughter to and sent Chisholm packing.”

“Aye, thank the Lord, but Faither couldnae have kent then that by refusin’, he’d be startin’ a war with the madman. He must be mad, else why would he still be demandin’ me hand when he kens I hate him? That sweet soul was everythin’ tae us, but all she meant tae that bastard was a means tae marry intae our clan and eventually take it over. He didnae care a thing for Brenna at all,” Anastasia said angrily, clenching her hands in her lap at the bitter memory.

Catalina nodded. “Aye, Brenna would have led a dog’s life with that brute as her husband, and so would ye.”

“And that’s exactly why me marriage to Ivar must happen. Too many good people have died, and are still dying, in this feud Chisolm started with us. Now, our resources are all but exhausted, Cat, ye ken that as well as I dae.

“Once I’m wed tae Ivar though, we’ll all be safe from Chisholm. Faither wrote tae The Bruce askin’ fer troops tae help fight off his attacks. The king kens the MacLeod’s have a large, well-equipped army. This marriage was the obvious solution to Faither’s problems without the need for The Bruce tae supply him with fighting men he couldnae spare.” She paused, and a light of determination appeared in her eyes for a moment.

“With the MacLeod army on our side, we can destroy Chisholm. It makes perfect sense fer us tae wed.”

“Aye, I ken,” Catalina agreed sadly. “But I still hate it, and I’m nae the one bein’ forced tae marry a stranger because of it all.”

Anastasia snorted. “I’d rather wed any stranger off the street than have that maniac Chisholm get hold of me and wed me by force just tae get his hands on the wealth of our clan.”

“I dinnae even want tae think about that,” Catalina said with a shudder.

“Then think about this,” Anastasia said with quiet force, “in a month’s time, Ivar will be me husband, yer braither-in-law. So much is riding on this wedding, so much more than just me personal happiness and yers. It has tae go smoothly. We all have tae accept it and try tae get on with each other and make the best of it.”

Anastasia’s impassioned words rang in the air while she paused, breathless. Then, she gripped Catalina’s arm and added earnestly, “So, please, Cat, please. If ye want tae make me happy, try tae get on with Ivar, all right?”

“I’ve already promised tae dae that, Ana. Maybe ye should talk tae him about it as well.”

“I already have.”

“Ye have?” She was astonished.

“Well, of course! I could hardly pretend there was nae a problem between ye two.”

“But what’s his explanation?” She was dying to know.

“He wouldnae say. He just said it was between ye and him tae sort out.”

“Oh, is that all?” It was somehow deeply disappointing and did nothing to clear up Catalina’s confusion. She supposed she had hoped for more but had no idea what that might be.

“Above all, Ana, I want ye tae be happy. After the pain of losin’ Brenna and this awful war, that’s all I want. I never meant fer any of this tae happen, and I’m going tae dae all I can tae behave well and nae upset Ivar again, I promise.”

She gave Anastasia another reassuring smile and kissed her cheek. But her confident fa?ade concealed a sort of panic bubbling below the surface. Making promises was all very well, and she had just made one she doubted she could ever keep because it required the cooperation of an arrogant, prideful, and cold-hearted man.

She would do almost anything for her sister, especially now after the loss of Brenna. But how could she stay away from Ivar and at the same time be expected to get on with him? That meant talking. And whenever they talked, they seemed to rub each other up the wrong way. So, as he had said, it was best to keep their distance. Her tired brain faltered as it wrangled with the impossible conundrum.

Besides that, there were other aspects of concern to consider. Like the alarming physical effects Ivar seemed to have on her just by his proximity. The fact that she was so powerfully but undeniably drawn to him just added another layer of misery to the whole affair.