Chapter 2

2

" B ut, Me Laird?—"

"Nay. I will hear nay argument. I have duties to attend to at Castle Geamnaben, and I cannae be delayed any longer."

Tillie shot a glance around the room at her brothers and sisters. They all looked surprised by the Laird's hurry to depart. She turned her attention to her parents, but they stood there quietly, if a bit perturbed. Was no one going to speak up for her?

"Lass," Laird MacLuther said, drawing her attention, "gather yer things while I talk with yer father."

"We can talk in my study," Tillie's father said. He stretched out an arm toward the study, and Laird MacLuther followed him.

Tillie watched her future husband walk away with her father. She was in a daze and wasn't sure how to respond. She only just found out she was betrothed and right after that, that her groom would be at the keep in just a few hours. Now that he was here, he wanted to leave post haste, not even taking time to fill his belly or quench his thirst.

She looked to her sister Erica with bewilderment. "Can ye believe that?" she exclaimed in a loud whisper. "He has the manners of a —"

"Watch what ye say," Lady MacFair hissed in warning. "He might hear ye."

"Mayhap he's just tired after the journey and in a foul mood," Erica suggested although her expression didn't look too convincing. Her eyes held the look of worry in them which only further distressed Tillie.

"He is a fine man," Lady MacFair interjected. "We carefully investigated him, and other than bein' moody after losing his wife, everyone said Laird McLuther was a good, honest, and fair laird."

"No one said anythin' about his manners, I suspect," Tillie grumbled. "I'm not ready to leave my home and all of ye. Cannae ye convince him to stay at least over night? I'd like to get to ken him a little before ridin' off to his castle."

Lady MacFair shook her head sadly. "I fear not, daughter. The Laird has made up his mind, and since the contracts were signed, there's naught we can do about it."

Erica rose from her chair and walked over to Tillie. "It will be alright," she said softly then gave her sister a hug. "Ye will see. Once he is back at his home where he feels comfortable, he will settle down. I'm sure of it."

Erica was always the optimistic one. Tillie usually was, too, but right now, she felt anything but optimistic. She'd had high hopes for her husband-to-be after reading his thoughtful letter to her. Then, when she'd seen him, she thought she was the most blessed lady in Scotland.

The squeak of the study door opening seemed to echo throughout the keep. Tillie stared down the hallway, waiting for her father and the Laird to return. She was terrified and irritated and wondered why her emotions kept warring with each other.

She stood in the middle of the room, her hands folded demurely in front of her. Outwardly, Tillie appeared serene and calm. Inwardly, though, she was anything but. As the two lairds approached, her stomach rolled, reminding her she hadn't had anything to eat since breaking her fast. Probably a good thing, though, since she was so nervous, she'd probably end up spilling the contents all over her future husband's boots.

He cut a fine figure, she admitted silently. He was the best-looking man she'd ever seen, and that wasn't even adding the power that seemed to roll off him in waves. Tillie's nerves bunched tightly while her legs grew weak. She had to lock her knees, afraid they'd give out and she'd end up in an ungraceful heap on the floor.

"Say yer goodbyes to yer kin," Laird MacLuther ordered as he walked right past her. "I want to be on the road as soon as possible."

Tillie turned slightly as he walked past, her mouth dropping open at his rudeness. His broad shoulders filled the doorway as he stepped through the door to the outside.

"That? That is who ye thought would make me a good husband?" Tillie demanded of her parents, her gaze darting disbelievingly between them.

"Give him time," her father urged. "He is under a lot of pressure."

"And I'm nae?" Tillie shot back.

"Tillie…" Her mother drew out her name warningly. "Ye ken we would never hand ye over to someone we felt would mistreat ye."

"Hurry along, daughter," the Laird said. "All yer things are packed and are already outside."

"We will visit for the weddin'," Lady MacFair added. "Go on now, and join yer husband-to-be."

Tillie's eyes started to glass over with unshed tears.

Tillie had barely made it outside before Laird MacLuther was strolling up the stairs to collect her. His handsome face was lined with irritation, and his full lips were drawn into a severe frown. Apparently, she hadn't been quick enough saying her goodbyes.

Well, that was just too bad. I don't know when I'll see my family again; the least he could do was give me proper time to say my goodbyes.

At least they'd grabbed her mare for her. Chloe had been a gift from Tillie's father three years ago. She was a beautiful creature, mostly white with just a smidgen of black around her eyes and on her chest.

Laird MacLuther barely let her descend the stairs, leading down from the keep, before he grasped her elbow and hurried them to her horse. It was on the tip of her tongue to chastise him for handling her so abruptly, but Tillie pressed her lips together to keep from speaking out loud. Maybe Erica had been right, and the Laird was just in a hurry to get home, and his mood would improve considerably once back in familiar territory.

Her betrothed unceremoniously plucked her from the ground and plopped her on top of her mare. Even through her clothes, she could feel the heat from his hands, and it sent a tiny thrill of awareness through her body.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, surprised. Chloe turned her head, her eyes wide at such rude handling.

Before Tillie had a chance to respond, the Laird walked around her horse and mounted his own. With a wave of his hand in the air, the group started galloping away, Tillie's horse following.

Tillie wanted to be upset, but she found herself watching her husband-to-be and the easy and commanding way he sat his stallion. It was a huge, black beast, it's hair the same dark shade as its master's. Its coat was thick and shiny, and when the sun hit it just right, it turned a deep purple.

It was a perfect match for the Laird, who was tall and muscular, his own raven black hair pulled back and tied with a piece of leather strip. He rode as if he were born on horseback, but then most Highlanders were more comfortable on the back of a horse than walking from what she'd heard.

Tillie's belongings had been packed into saddle bags. The Laird had two on his horse and three more were scattered among the other riders. There were about fifteen Highlanders in this riding group, not counting herself or the Laird.

"Greetings," Tillie said shyly to no one in particular in the group.

None of them looked at her, much less said hello.

"Do ye know how long it will take to get to Castle Geamnaben?" she tried again, but still the men acted like she didn't even exist.

It was uncomfortable but not unexpected. If their laird was such a rude man, then she didn't hold much hope for his men. Her eyes traveled the riders again. While she saw five of her bags, she hadn't see her painting equipment. In a panic, she scanned all the horse again, but there was no sign of her easel, sitting stool, or satchel of paints. Turning in her seat, Tillie frantically looked again.

Surely, they didn't forget me painting materials! I would be lost without them.

She couldn't imagine a day where she didn't at least sketch something. Then her eyes dropped to the back of her horse, and she let out a relieved sigh. It was all there, secured tightly to Chloe. She must had been too distracted when her betrothed had tossed her onto Chloe's back to have noticed her precious supplies had been strapped to her horse.

Tillie was almost dizzy with relief. She couldn't imagine leaving the only home she'd ever known to marry a man she'd never met, only to be left without the one true comfort of her life.

They rode like the devil himself was chasing them.

Tillie glanced over her shoulder, at the rapidly shrinking view of her home. A pang of sorrow gripped her heart. Would she ever again see the MacFair Keep? What about her parents? Her brothers and sisters?

As she turned back around, her eyes misted again. She had no idea what was in store for her at her new home.

"Yer goin' to fall off yer horse if ye continue to crane yer neck like that."

Tillie jerked around, startled to see the Laird had slowed down until he rode next to her.

"'Tis my home," she said wistfully. "I dinnae ken when I will see it again."

"Nay, lass. 'Tis yer home no more. Ye belong to me now."