Chapter 5

5

"Ithought ye wouldnae speak to anyone last night," Cameron said as he shoveled porridge into his mouth. "And ye wind up married."

He had been laughing about the news ever since he heard it on the road last evening. He kept kicking himself for being out of the room when the incident occurred, and he kept complaining that Daniel wasn't providing enough details.

But Daniel wanted to put the confrontation with Laird Cullen out of his mind. He had succeeded in finding himself a wife—the very reason he left his castle—and that was all that mattered.

Daniel's mind was running through the steps he needed to take to secure this deal. He was well aware that Alexander could change his mind, especially if Lana protested. He thought about her boldness last night and held back a smile.

"What are ye laughing about?" Cameron asked. "Ye're lucky things worked out well. Ye could have really hurt yer reputation last evening."

"It doesnae hurt me to have people fear me," Daniel muttered as he dropped more sausage onto his plate.

Cameron nearly spat out his food in shock. "Well that's nay attitude to go into a marriage with," he scolded. "Do ye want yer wife to fear ye?"

"It doesnae matter if she thinks of me at all," Daniel said, stabbing his knife much too hard into a sausage. "I dinnae choose her for company."

A laugh suddenly rang out into the room, and Daniel looked up to see a little girl running toward the table. His daughter, Skye, rushed into the room in a flash of auburn hair and flowing skirts. The cornflower blue dress was too long for her, and she hitched it up so she could run.

Daniel blinked at the image of his daughter in a grownup's dress. She looked like a little woman instead of the baby she was a few years ago. Even her auburn hair was braided and looped around her head instead of hanging down her back.

When did his girl get so grown?

"Look at me dress!" Skye called out as she rushed toward the table.

Daniel's shoulders stiffened as the girl headed toward him, her cheeks flushed with mischief. He thought she might jump into his arms, eager to interact with her father, but when he forced himself to smile in her direction, she rushed around the table to find her uncle.

"Uncle Cam, look at me dress," she cried out as Daniel shoved down the disappointment he felt at his daughter passing him over for his brother.

Skye did a twirl, and the fabric of her skirts billowed around her. There was that laugh again, a sound so carefree and joyous.

"How wonderful!" Cameron said.

Daniel watched him rise from the table and take the girl into his arms. He was surprised by how easy it was for Cameron, how he knew to lift the girl into the air and spin her around. When they finished, her long braids had fallen from where they were pinned to her head.

"Greet yer faither, Skye."

The little girl shoved a hand across her face, pushing the braids away so she could see the head of the table. She was still in Cameron's arms, and the very mention of her father seemed to chill her. She glanced at Daniel, and he noticed the way her shoulders rose to her ears as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. One glance and she dropped her head into her uncle's shoulder, hiding her face.

"It's alright," Cameron whispered.

Daniel didn't miss the apologetic look his brother gave him. It was far too close to pity for Daniel's liking.

They heard heavy footsteps in the hall and the audible huffing of someone who couldn't catch their breath. The elderly, round housekeeper, a woman called Silvers, was suddenly in the doorway, her eyes frantic as she looked around the room. Her gaze landed on the little girl who was hiding in Cameron's arms.

"Forgive me, Me Laird." The woman dropped into a curtsy that Daniel noticed was a vestige of his father's household. But old habits died hard for some servants in the castle. Instead of correcting her, he kept his gaze fixed on his breakfast.

"I couldnae' catch her," Silvers huffed out.

Daniel knew she had a first name, but he didn't know it. He could still picture her running after him and Cameron when they were children, as they tried to ditch their schoolwork or took a fancy for hunting mushrooms in the woods.

Daniel heard Skye's small giggle, still muffled by Cameron's shoulder. She was mischievous, this one, clearly enjoying the fact she had gotten away from Silvers.

Like faither like daughter…

"It was wrong of her," Daniel said, standing up to show his displeasure. He caught the little girl peeking out from Cameron's shoulder, though she still held on to him tightly. "Apologize, Skye."

Daniel knew his voice was too loud, his tone too imposing. He knew how to speak in a voice that cut across the room in council meetings. He knew how to intimidate grown men into listening to him. He had no idea how to communicate with a little girl.

But Skye listened to her father. She might not show him her dress or run to him to be spun in the air, but she knew how to listen to him. So the girl saw him as something to be feared, it seemed.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, turning her large, round eyes to the housekeeper.

Immediately, Cameron stepped in to cut the tension. Daniel begrudged him the way he could easily smile at the girl, tugging on one of her braids to make her smile.

"Ye must nae tire Silvers out, little fox." Cameron bounced the girl on his hip as he used the nickname he gave her for her auburn hair. "Otherwise, she willnae allow us to have sweets after dinner."

Skye smiled at her uncle, and Daniel saw the love between them. He should have been pleased that his daughter had such a good relationship with her uncle, but it only made him angry. Angry at Cameron or Skye or himself, he wasn't sure.

Daniel cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at Cameron, trying to bring him back on task. He nodded toward Silvers, and Cameron gave Skye a final squeeze before placing her down on the ground. He nudged her toward the housekeeper, and the little girl slowly walked toward her, giving her father's chair a wide berth.

"Yer torture will end soon, Silvers," Daniel assured. "We appreciate yer stepping in after the previous nanny left, but we ken it has been long enough."

"It is no trouble, Me Laird," Silvers answered.

But Daniel recognized the strained words of someone who was lying. The old woman was well past the age she should be chasing after children, and everyone in the household knew it.

"Nevertheless, I have found someone else."

The old woman looked up at him with surprise, but it wasn't her expression that stuck in Daniel's mind after this conversation ended. Instead, he was struck by the wide-eyed stare of his daughter. He didn't expect her to understand this adult conversation, but there she was, clearly taking in this new information. For the second time that morning, Daniel realized how much the child was growing up.

"A new nanny, Me Laird?" Silvers asked as she shooed Skye out of the hall.

Daniel shook his head. "Nay. I found meself a bride. Or rather, she found me."

The overcast sky was a perfect foil for Lana's mood as she pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. She felt empty of tears, and she was left with a churning stomach, almost overwhelming her every time she thought about her fate.

She had left her room in the hopes that her usual route around the castle would calm her, but it was having the opposite effect. Instead of finding peace, Lana imagined everything she was about to lose when she was sent off to live in another man's castle.

She started in the stables, shoving aside the heavy barn doors to say good morning to the horses. It was early enough that the stable hands were still asleep, and Lana was always delighted to be the first person to greet the animals on a new day. The horses would snort and sniff her hands and her pockets, seeking out the treats she often brought to them.

This morning it was kitchen scraps she had taken from the cook. The woman often set them aside for Lana, knowing she would soon sneak down to find whatever she could for the animals.

"Good morning, Clover," Lana said, resting her hand on the horse's long nose.

She held the curls of carrot peel out to him and felt the soft warmth of his lips against her palm.

"Good morning, Sunshine."

The horse was Lana's favorite, the mare she had ridden since she was a child. When asked what she wanted to name her, a seven-year-old Lana had looked up to the sky before christening the horse.

"A perfect name for our Lana's horse," her father had said. "Our little sunshine girl."

Thinking about her father made her spiral further into sadness. The man had been a kind and loving force in her family, keeping them all together, but a violent murder in the woods had torn her family apart in an instant. Her father was gone, and her brother had acquired a nasty scar across his face. Now, when she looked at her brother, she saw a permanent reminder of everything her family had lost.

"Are ye hungry, little ones?"

The hayloft was the home of a litter of kittens Lana had discovered a few weeks ago. She had followed the little mewing sounds until she saw them there, feeding from their exhausted-looking mother.

Lana brought them milk in the morning and other treats she knew the kittens would enjoy, though their diet mostly consisted of birds, as evidenced by the feathers she found scattered around the hay.

She sat down as two of the kittens, almost fully grown now, padded toward her. She breathed in the sweet scent of the hay and felt the stalks poke into the back of her legs through her skirts as she pulled a kitten up to her chest.

"I daenae want to leave ye," she whispered.

Laird MacCrawford's face flashed in her mind, the same face that had haunted her throughout her sleepless night.

I expect to be married in a week.

A week. It was all the time she had before her life would change forever and her dreams of a love marriage would disappear. Lana felt the kitten squirm in her arms, its little claws kneading into her arm. She loosened her grip and let the kitten down, giving a joyless smile as the little thing pawed at stalks of hay that taunted it. The kitten faced off against the offending item before jumping into the air to flatten the hay to the ground.

Good for ye, little one.

The kitten's ferocity stirred something inside of Lana. She saw how small the animal was, but it still attacked the world with curiosity and determination. Lana used to be like that. She used to say exactly what she wanted, no matter the consequences. She never used to sit back and let life happen to her.

She stood up quickly, brushing the errant pieces of hay from her skirts as the kittens mewed up at her.

"I cannae stay," Lana told them, embracing the determination that surged through her body.

She clenched her hands at her sides and breathed deeply, preparing herself. She ran a hand over her hair, checking that she was presentable. She looked down at the kittens and their mother, who was lying on her side, seemingly pleased that the kittens were no longer feeding from her.

"I must go," Lana murmured, locking eyes with the mother cat as if she were a close confidante. "I have a wedding to stop."