Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

Ana remained silent until Dunstan opened the door, let down the carriage steps, and held out his hand to help her down first, then Catalina. The sisters stood together for a moment or two, smoothing their skirts. There was quite a little welcoming party of servants waiting for them, headed up by a short, balding fellow in the smart livery of a steward.

Once he had spoken to Dunstan, he approached them, doffed his black, velvet cap, and bowed. “William Sterling, head steward, at yer service, me ladies,” he said warmly. “Welcome tae Castle Macleod. May yer stay be a happy and comfortable one.”

“Thank ye, Mr. Sterling, fer yer kind welcome. Me sister and I are very pleased tae be here,” Anastasia replied with a tense smile and a gracious nod.

“We’ve been expectin’ ye since yesterday,” the man said not unkindly, but Catalina sensed Anastasia stiffen, and her cheeks flushed. “But I understand there was a storm at sea.”

Thankfully, Dunstan answered. “Aye, it was a nasty squall all right, and we got intae port too late tae come yesterday. The voyage made Miss Catalina rather sea-sick, so we decided it would be best fer her tae rest fer the night at the inn. Furthermore, we didnae wish tae cause a disturbance so late at night.”

“Och, I trust ye’re feelin’ better now, Miss Catalina,” Stirling said, turning to her with a solicitous look on his face. It was her turn to blush then.

“Aye, much better, thank ye, Mr. Sterling,” she told him, summoning a false smile and flashing Dunstan a dark look.

“That’s grand. Well, now ye’re here at last, allow me tae escort ye inside. The family have been waitin’ tae meet ye,” Stirling told them, turning and steering the sisters, with Dunstan following behind, the short distance across the courtyard. Behind them, a flurry of activity commenced as the carriage was unloaded.

They approached an enormous pair of carved doors, leading into what Catalina supposed must be the castle keep. They were guarded by two equally smartly dressed men holding pikes who bowed to the ladies as they passed. Each received a polite smile and nod in return.

As they crossed the threshold into a grand vestibule, which featured an impressive stone staircase at its center, Anastasia took Catalina by surprise when she suddenly leaned towards her.

“Ye see, I told ye they’d be annoyed at us bein’ so late. If it wasnae fer ye and that fawn ye insisted on fussin’ over all mornin’ we’d have been here ages ago.” She hissed in her ear.

Catalina bristled. “What did ye expect me tae dae? Leave it tae die?” She knew she had been right all along; Anastasia did blame her for their tardy departure from the inn that morning. “The poor wee creature needed our help more than yer precious betrothed needed tae meet ye at break of dawn.

While a maid helped Anastasia off with her cloak, she seemed to relent a little and said in a low voice, “Och, I suppose ye’re right. ’Tis shockin’ tae think that man was tryin’ tae murder the poor thing.”

“Will ye keep it down?” Dunstan murmured under his breath, his eyes scanning the vestibule and the hallways branching off it as he spoke. “Compose yerselves. We’re about tae meet the laird and his family and ye need tae make a good impression.”

“Aye, sorry, ye’re right,” Anastasia said, straightening up and assuming her tranquil mask once more. “’Tis the nerves.”

When the maid had taken Catalina’s cloak from her, Sterling smiled at them all. “Please come this way. The laird thought it would be nice tae meet in the parlor and fer ye all tae have some luncheon together.” He started off at a stately pace along a broad, flag stoned corridor that went off to the right of the room lined with paintings and tapestries of old hunting scenes. The trio looked at each other. Anastasia took a deep breath, and then they followed him.

At first sight, the MacLeod family were an imposing lot. The men were, well, frankly, frightening. Catalina thought they looked as if they had just gotten off the longboat, straight from their icy, northern homeland and would have happily lopped off someone’s head at the drop of an axe if they had the ill-luck of getting in their way.

She could instantly tell which one was the Viking Laird, even without the clan insignia he was wearing pinned to the lapel of his coat and the fact that he appeared to be the eldest. An aura of calm confidence and unquestionable authority surrounded him. Haldor MacLeod was a very impressive figure, tall and massively built. There was no disputing that he was a handsome man, with a ruddy complexion that spoke of the outdoors and somewhat thin lips.

His hair drew attention, for it was so fair, it was almost white. The front part was braided and pulled back from his harshly angled face, while the rest cascaded wildly over his broad shoulders.

All of that was intimidating enough, but it was his eyes that were most unnerving. They were blue, but it was a blue so pale that it appeared almost silver, and they were piercing too. Catalina suppressed a shiver as they moved leisurely over the guests one by one. She quickly formed the notion that he was a man you definitely wanted on your side.

“Good day tae ye. I’m Laird Haldor MacLeod of Harris,” he said jovially in a raspy, booming voice, his uncanny gaze sweeping over her and Anastasia.

“Now, Sterling, who have we here?” he asked, his wide smile that of a friendly wolf.

Stirling gave a nod. “Certainly, me laird.” Then, politely indicating Anastasia, he said, “May I introduce Miss Anastasia Matheson, the bride-tae-be.”

The laird’s pale eyes lit up, and he bowed. “Miss Anastasia, it is me great pleasure tae meet ye and have ye come and stay with us here at Castle MacLeod. Ye’re soon tae become a part of the family, eh? Me sister-in-law, nay less.”

“Indeed, me laird. It is a great honor that ye dae me, and I thank ye fer yer kind welcome,” Anastasia replied with a smile and a pretty curtsey. Catalina was amazed to hear not so much as a quiver in her sister’s voice when confronted by this intimidating Viking of a man. Her own mouth had gone quite dry.

“And who have we here?” the laird asked, his silvery eyes fixing curiously on Catalina. “Is this yer wee sister?”

“Aye, this is Catalina,” Anastasia told him, calm as a cucumber, turning to Catalina.

“Welcome, welcome, Catalina,” Haldor enthused, seeming not to feel the need to be so formal with the bride’s younger sister as with the bride herself. She found her hand engulfed by an enormous, calloused paw and then squeezed. At the same time, Haldor flashed her one of his warm, yet nevertheless slightly frightening, smiles. “Ye’ll soon be a part of our family too, lass, so make yersel’ at home and enjoy yer stay.” He released her hand and beamed at her.

“Thank ye, me laird. Ye’re very kind tae have me,” Catalina replied, summoning a smile and curtsey for the mountainous man.

“And who’s this braw fellow here?” the laird asked finally, eyeing Dunstan with interest.

“Captain Dunstan Malcolm, me laird, here acting as escort tae the ladies by order of their faither,” Dunstan replied, giving the laird a respectful bow.

“Good man, Dunstan,” Haldor boomed, giving him a hearty slap on the back. “Ye may nae be so pretty as these lassies, but ye’re very welcome too.”

“Thank ye kindly fer yer hospitality, me laird,” Dunstan replied, affecting a small smile on hearing soft laughter coming from behind the laird.

Haldor suddenly turned his steely gaze on the steward, who was still waiting patiently nearby, his hands folded neatly before him. “Thank ye, Stirling, I’ll take it from here. Ye can go and tell the kitchens tae have luncheon ready fer us in, say, half an hour.”

“Right away, me laird,” said the steward with a smart nod before he departed.

Once the steward had gone, Haldor looked at his guests and said, “Now, let me introduce ye tae the family. This here is me wife, Sofia.” He turned to the petite, very pretty woman in the tartan dress who had been standing close to him during the initial introductions. She was girlish, with long dark hair, small features, and large dark eyes.

She approached Anastasia first and took one of her hands in hers and pressed it before letting it go. “Anastasia, welcome, I’m so happy ye got here safely,” she said in a soft, warm voice, her smile sweet and slightly shy. “If there’s anything’ ye need during yer stay, ye only have tae say, and I’ll make sure tae dae it.”

“Thank ye, Lady Sofia, ye’re very kind. Ye have such a splendid home, I’m sure everything will be very comfortable.” Anastasia replied, returning the smile.

“Pish! Dinnae call me Lady Sofia,” Sofia burst out with a tinkling laugh. “I’m nae grand at all, as ye’ll soon find out, I’m sure. We’re soon tae be sisters, and ’tis just plain old Sofia tae family.”

Anastasia gave a small laugh. “Very well. Sofia it is.”

Sofia then took Catalina’s hand as said, “And welcome tae ye also, Catalina. Now ye and yer sister have come we shall have some fun, all us women together, eh?”

A smile came unbidden to Catalina’s lips as she looked into Lady MacLeod’s eyes and saw the genuine excitement within. “I suspect we will indeed, Sofia,” she relied, warming instantly to the young woman.

“Aye, we look forward tae it, dinnae we, Catalina?” her sister said, apparently also taken with the charming Sofia.

Catalina noticed the doting looks Haldor exchanged with his delicate-looking wife. Clearly, the couple were very much in love. To think the intimidating Haldor was capable of such was quite a revelation to her, and a sort of relief too. There was obviously a softer side to the ruthless, battle-scarred Viking Laird.

She thought she glimpsed the same relief as she was feeling in Anastasia’s eyes too. Was she thinking the same thing? That if Haldor, with his terrifying appearance, was a doting husband, might not his brother Ivar, Anastasia’s betrothed, turn out to be the same?

“And this is Dahlia, our sister,” Haldor announced, introducing a strikingly beautiful, elegant young woman in a burgundy gown. She was taller than usual for a woman and shared her brother’s arresting looks. Her eyes were the same pale, silver color, but her features were soft and feminine, and she wore her long, pale hair up, in a crown of intricately twisted plaits. Though her lovely smile was alight with genuine welcome. Purely based upon her looks, Catalina mentally nicknamed her the Ice Maiden.

“Och, at last! I thought I’d die of waitin’,” she said with a good humor that belied her somewhat austere appearance. Catalina had to smile when Dahlia exclaimed, “Sisters, welcome! Anastasia, thank ye fer comin’ all this way tae be with us,” she clearly took Anastasia by complete surprise, and then Catalina too, by planting kisses soundly on each of the sisters’ cheeks.

She beamed at Anastasia and said, “They never told us what a beauty ye are. Why, Ivar’s gonnae think himsel’ the luckiest man alive.” She giggled, and so did Sofia, while Haldor and the almost as frightening looking man standing next to him guffawed.

Catalina could not help but feel grateful to Dahlia because her little jest seemed to dispel some of the tension in the room, and by the time Haldor introduced the other man as his youngest brother, Arne, things felt a little more relaxed.

Arne was shorter than Haldor but similarly broad and powerful looking, with tattoos curling about his neck. His hair was the same white blond, but it was cut short, which made it possible to see the many scars crisscrossing his skin that made him seem equally fearsome. However, the friendly warmth of his grin as he greeted first Anastasia and then Catalina, banished any idea of fearsomeness.

He bowed gallantly to Anastasia. “Welcome tae our humble home, Anastasia, soon tae be me sister, ’tis a delight tae meet ye,” he said in a smooth, deep voice, his vivid blue eyes dancing with good humor like his sister’s.

“Likewise, Arne,” Anastasia replied, smiling and bobbing him a little curtsey in return. “I must say, I’m delighted tae meet ye too. After a lifetime of havin’ nae braithers, I seem tae have acquired a brace of them surprisingly quickly,” she joked. “And sisters too.”

Everybody laughed, and Catalina could not help but admire her sister’s composure in the difficult circumstances.

“Och, nae another one of those quick-witted lassies sent tae plague us, eh, Haldor,” Arne said with mock dismay. “I can already tell, us men’ll have little peace around here once these four join forces.” He gestured mournfully with his head at the women.

“Aye, that’s right, Braither,” Dahlia chimed in with a chuckle. “The men’ll have tae make sure they wash behind their ears and keep their boots off the dinner table from now on, eh, girls?”

“Ach, she spoils all our fun!” Arne joked with false umbrage, his eyes twinkling.

While Catalina was laughing along with the others, Arne grinned at her. There was mischief in his eyes, and she instantly felt a kinship with him. Unable to resist his strangely playful appeal, she grinned back at him.

“I can tell by just lookin’ at wee Catalina here that she’s nae so strict as ye are, Dahlia,” he said, winking at her and making her giggle harder. “Eh, Catalina, what d’ye say?”

“I say I think I’m going tae enjoy me stay at Castle MacLeod very much,” she answered between her giggles, sure she was enjoying herself far more than she should be. But Anastasia was giggling too.

“Och, we have a diplomat!” Arne said, glancing at the others for confirmation before looking back at her and adding. “Very well said, lass. Take nae notice of me teasin’. I’m the fool around here. Ye’ll soon get used tae me.”

With the ice firmly broken between the two parties, when things had quietened down a little, Haldor looked at Anastasia with one of his wolfish smiles. However, this time, Catalina thought she detected a glimmer of worry in his pale eyes.

“Well, now, Anastasia,” he said, “I suppose ye’d like tae meet yer groom.”

“That’s what she’s come all this way fer,” Dahlia put in.

Catalina had to agree, thinking it a little odd that they had been introduced to all the rest of the family before meeting the crucial man. Surely, she thought with a frown, it must be him lurking at the back. One might have thought he’d be keen to be at the front of the queue, anxious to get acquainted with his betrothed. Clearly not, not unless he was indisposed in some way. In her view, it was concerning and did not bode well for her sister.

“Ivar, come and meet yer lovely bride and her sister,” Arne said, moving aside. There was movement from the back of the room as Haldor too stepped back, along with Sofia and Dahlia.

A figure as tall as Haldor and as broad as Arne suddenly stepped forward between them and came into full view.

As her eyes met his, a shock went through Catalina, and she almost stumbled backwards. The breath left her body, her mouth dropped open, and her eyes flew wide. It took a few moments before she could actually speak. And when she finally did, only one word exploded from her lips.

“Ye!”