Chapter 3

The silence was thick.

Caelan eyed the lass with raised brows, the smirk that had been painted on his face faded, and he let his expression turn neutral. He watched her face; the mix of confusion and annoyance was an interesting mix.

I'll bet Father is rollin' about in his grave . He couldn't pretend that he didn't relish the fact. With a sideways glance to Jamie, who was eyeing him with narrowed eyes, he shrugged his shoulders and turned to Bram Ainslie. The older man looked just as confused as the rest as he sheathed his blade. His face, once red from anger, was now pale with shock. No one had expected this outcome.

His newly betrothed was glaring at him now. How amusing . She was a bonnie wee thing. The woman was petite, much smaller than himself, and it was becoming apparent from the way she was watching him that she had inherited her father's temper. Her mind was working, turning and twisting.

He wondered then why had his sister written to her? And where had she learned such lines from the likes of William Shakespeare? Caelan didn't look back at Maisie, knowing she would deny or play aloof to it all. Whatever was going on, he was sure he would find out in time.

"Ah, well, good…" Bram Ainslie stepped forward.

Caelan straightened. "I offer ye me hospitality, Laird MacLoughty."

He reached out, offering his hand. Bram shook it, sealing the promise. There was no going back on it now; he knew that this in itself was binding. Caelan's eyes flashed to the woman he would marry, a complete stranger. She was fuming behind her polite, forced smile. For whatever reason, he enjoyed it.

"And I welcome ye as well," the voice of his mother, elegant and stiff, rang through the air. He turned to her and watched as she approached, with Maisie following close behind. She remained the image of perfection, as always, her head high and her soft smile never faltering. But her eyes betrayed her. His mother, he knew, would have some words for him in private. "Laird MacLoughty, I am in awe of yer fierceness for the sake of yer Clan," she turned gracefully to look at the lass. "And when it comes to yer beautiful daughter."

Caelan watched as his betrothed offered a gentle curtsy but offered no response. It seemed to draw all the strength she had not to say what was clearly on her mind, but her thoughts were almost written on her face.

"Shall we discuss the arrangements, then?" his mother asked, her attention on Bram. She smiled sweetly, her head remaining high as she turned and motioned to the castle. "And to be sure, we shall have our cooks prepare a meal. I have no doubt that ye are all weary from travel."

An older woman, who he could only assume to be Bram Ainslie's wife, rushed over to join them. As she approached, Caelan could see the similarities with her daughter. The same dark blonde hair, the high cheekbones. She was an image of what his betrothed would become later in her years.

"We thank ye for the offer," she said with a curtsy and a tight smile. She was very careful not to look at him, hiding her anger cleanly, instead, she focused on his mother. "It seems we shall have much to discuss! And to think, we will be joinin' our Clans through our children."

"Aye, that we will." Bram nodded.

Caelan watched as his mother lured them towards the castle. He knew that she would be pleased in the long term with this unexpected sudden arrangement. After all, she had been pestering him to marry for some time now.

Well, ye're gettin' what ye wanted.

"I am so sorry for gettin' ye into this mess,'' Maisie said, her large eyes pleading. They walked, arm in arm, towards the castle. Leona stared forward, watching with an intense gaze at the broad-shouldered, tall man ahead of them.

Why did he go along with this?

"Leo?"

Blinking, she looked at her friend and shook her head. "Maisie, it's me own fault. I wasnae careful about retrievin' the letter and Father discovered it before I could stop him."

Caelan glanced back over his shoulder, shooting them a suspicious look before entering the castle. It took all that she could to not trip over her own feet. Maisie squeezed her arm and sighed. "We had better go inside."

Leona nodded, and they followed after the Laird to the dining hall. As they entered, Leona noticed Caelan sitting at the head of the table. He watched her, and then he motioned to the seat on his right. "Come sit."

Leona exchanged a quick glance with Maisie, watching with pleading eyes as she watched her friend sit on the far side of the table. Her friend forced a small, apologetic smile.

Caelan stood, pulling out her seat. Leona moved slowly over, her face growing hot as all eyes in the room turned onto her and Caelan. Sitting down, she closed her eyes as he pushed her chair in. She held her breath, feeling him lean in closer. Why is he so close?

Caelan stood straight and took his seat.

Leona sat beside him, watching from the corner of her eye as he sipped at his soup. If the table was not so massive and her legs not so short, she'd kick him relentlessly. Caelan shot her a look, and with it came a mischievous smirk. "Is somethin' wrong, m' love?"

She hated how he said it, but she truly hated the way her heart fluttered when he did. Leona straightened and forced her most convincing smile. "Nay, of course nae," she said sweetly. "How could anythin' be wrong when I'm here with ye? Though," she glanced around the dining room with a frown settling on her face. "I may have to make some adjustments."

"Adjustments?"

She smirked. Ye'll regret ever agreein' to this. "Oh, aye. It's awfully dated in here, ye ken? Perhaps some new artwork? And the furniture is a bit… well, it will need to be changed as well. But I ken ye daenae mind at all."

Caelan watched her and then set his spoon down. Leona felt her chest tighten. Had she gone too far? She swallowed hard as he gazed about the walls and then returned his sights back on her. "Whatever makes ye happiest."

"That is," Leona turned and looked across the table to where his mother sat. Sophie Lennox was a captivating woman, the image of elegance, and she did not waver. She looked back at Leona and smiled sweetly, expectantly. Not breaking or bending, Leona smiled back. "As long as ye daenae mind it, Lady MacNicols. I would nae wish to overstep."

"Nay, child. I couldnae agree more," Sophie smiled.

Beside her, her own mother nudged her subtly and then gave her an incredulous look. A look that demanded that she behave. Leona, though, had no intentions of doing so. She may have gotten herself into this mess, but she was determined to get herself out of it as well. Somehow, she would weasel her way out of this.

"We shall have Leona's belongings delivered here as soon as we return to MacLoughty," her father said between bites. He was working ferociously at the chunk of venison that had been prepared, seemingly enjoying his meal more than anyone else. He took a sip from his ale and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I should like to pack m'own things and say farewell to efriends, Father." She took a long sip of her wine and prayed that, for once, her father would agree with her. "And truthfully, I dinnae bring enough clothes to last much longer than the journey here."

"Daenae think I dinnae see yer trunk, 'tis about to burst,"

"And ye could always borrow some of Maisie's clothes as well!" Sophie chimed in, smiling at her. Leona eyed the long -egged, thin-as-a-post girl across the table and almost spat out her drink. The image of her stuffed into one of her friend's gowns was comical.

Maisie snorted but then feigned a cough in some vain attempt to conceal her amusement.

"That is generous of ye," her mother said. Leona's heart swelled as she turned to face her, a feeling of hope washing over her. Surely, her own mother would see through this and allow her to return home. "We will set out in the morning and have Leona's belongings accompany her maid back to MacNicols."

So much for mothers supporting their daughters.

After dinner, her parents, brother, and her future-mother-in-law left them to discuss the finer details of the wedding in the study. When Caelan stood to join them, his mother shot him a look. "Stay, son. Spend some time with yer betrothed while we work out the details."

Leona watched their backs as they left, feeling a sense of dread washing over her. She turned to look at Maisie, thankful to have her there.

"Maisie," Caelan said in a firm voice. "Leave us."

"But–"

He shot her a look and frowned. "Daenae make me repeat m'self."

Hanging her head, she stood from her chair and offered Leona an apologetic smile. Wordlessly, she mouthed, ‘ Forgive me' and sulked from the room. The air suddenly felt heavier and more tense, and Leona sighed in frustration. She turned fast, her hair swinging about her head, and glared at Caelan.

The last thing she wanted was to be left alone with him.

Flickering from the fireplace left the room covered in a soft amber hue, shadows danced on the walls, and the flames crackled as they ate away at the logs. Leona swallowed and cleared her throat. "Well, this is a fine mess we've made," she said with a snort before sipping her wine.

Caelan raised a brow. " We ? Nay, lass. There's nay we , just yerself."

"Ye dinnae have to agree to it!"

"Would ye have rathered me to cut yer father down then?"

She sighed; he was right. "Forgive me. I… I daenae ken what to do now. They've all but moved me in already, and I cannae convince m' father to change his mind. But, I will think of somethin' before the weddin'."

"That's what ye get when ye daenae think things through."

"Ye're one to talk," she set her glass down.

" You have witchcraft in your lips; there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council, and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs. "

Her heart leaped to her heart. He knows Shakespeare enough to quote it. Leona took a deep, steadying breath and rushed to regain her composure. She had not expected this at all. "So, ye ken it then."

"About ye and m'sister writin' to each other? Aye."

She hesitated, fists clenched down at her sides. "Do ye mind it?"

"Can I stop it?" Caelan chuckled and finished his ale. He gently set the cup on the table, his gaze lowered to the wooden surface. It was clear that his mind was wandering off, somewhere far from here, but where?

Leona sighed. "I hope that ye wouldnae."

Slowly, his eyes rose. They lingered a moment on her lips, causing her to become very conscious of herself. Her body tensed, and her face began to warm. Caelan finally met her stare. Those eyes, which seemed so very cold and piercing only hours ago, seemed softer now. It must be the fire's glow .

"I've never known any words to come to life until now."

She watched as he abruptly stood. His chair screeched as it pushed out behind him. Caelan nodded to her before heading for the door, leaving her sitting in the dining room alone and confused by his choice of words.

Nay, ye daenae get to walk off that easily . Leona stood and rushed to the door, hoping to catch him. As she pushed through into the unfamiliar hallway, she nearly collided with the figure standing there in the shadows.

"Maisie!" Leona gasped while holding her chest, hoping to steady her hammering heart. She looked up, peering through the dim corridor at her friend. Catching her breath, she straightened herself and glanced to her left and right. Where did he go?

"He's long gone," Maisie said, reaching out and taking her hand. Her fingers were cool to the touch, a stark contrast to how warm Leona felt at that moment. "Did I hear it right? Did m'brother actually laugh a wee bit?"

Leona shrugged. "I am a witty lass; what can I say?"

"Aye, me dear friend. Ye are. Now, come with me. Ye'll share me room tonight while they prepare yer chambers. We can stay up all night and share stories," she squealed and began to drag Leona along. "I even had the maid bring up some sweets."

Though she wouldn't dare ruin Maisie's delight, Leona was exhausted, and the idea of not sleeping sounded almost like a form of torture. She could feel the heaviness behind her eyes already, and soon she'd be yawning.

"So, how long were ye listenin' in on us?" Their steps echoed in unison against the stone floor. The castle was dark, the sun had long since set and there was no moon outside to offer any respite from the shadows. It gave her an eerie feeling, a shiver ran through her.

Maisie snorted. "Oh, I heard him recitin' the piece from Henry the Fifth to ye."

"I'm surprised he ken of it."

Her friend made a sound, air escaping through her teeth. "Well, ye ken… I stole the book from him," she admitted in a quiet voice as if her brother would hear her. "I returned it to its rightful place, but it doesnae matter much now."

"Do ye think he's mad?" If he was, she didn't doubt it would somehow work to her advantage. I could just drive him mad with annoyance until he cannae stand the sight of me .

Maisie stopped in front of a door and let go of her hand. She pushed it open and motioned for Leona to step inside. As she did, her friend said something that left her astonished. "He wouldnae mind if we read more. I bet he'd even let us continue our wee book readin' group without issue."

Raising her brows, "Oh? Is that so?"

Before Maisie could reply, a deep voice interrupted. "That depends."

Both women turned, watching as Caelan passed by. His eyes met hers, holding her gaze as he moved, the slightest hint of a smile played on his lips.

Leona shot him an incredulous look. "On what?"

"Are ye goin' to behave? Be a good lass?"