The Wedding

  Her mother wasn’t in the mood to placate her daughter. She waved her hand toward the cluster of chairs on the opposite side of the hall.

  “Go and sit down, Brenna. Do not say another word until you are given permission to speak. Do it now.”

  The little girl dragged her feet as she crossed the hall.

  “Don’t make her sit there all alone too long, Mother. The unfortunate incidents have made her difficult. Papa says it’s going to take her time to recover.”

  Mattie was defending her. Brenna wasn’t surprised by the show of loyalty. It was her sister’s duty to watch out for her while her brothers were away. But it made Brenna angry that Mattie had brought up the unmentionable. She knew how much Brenna hated being reminded of what had happened to her.

  “Yes, dear,” her mother replied. “Time and patience.”

  Mattie let out a loud sigh. “Really, Mother, how can you be so calm about it? Have you no guilt? Even I can understand forgetting one of your children on a single occasion, but twice? It’s a wonder the child lets you out of her sight.”

  Elspeth moved forward to otter her opinion. “ ’Tis my fear you’ll never catch a husband for that one, mi’lady.”

  Brenna put her hands over her ears. She hated it when the nursemaid referred to her as “that one.” She wasn’t one of the piglets, after all.

  “I’ll catch a husband by myself,” Brenna shouted.

  Joan walked into the hall in time to hear her sister’s boast.

  “What have you done this time, Brenna?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Then why are you sitting all by yourself? You’re usually squeezed up next to Mother, talking her ears off. Tell me what you’ve done. I promise I won’t lecture you.”

  “I sassed Mama. Did Papa catch your husband for you, Joan?”

  “Catch a husband?” she asked. She didn’t laugh for fear of hurting Brenna’s tender feelings, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

  “I suppose he did,” she admitted.

  “Did you help?”

  “No. I’ll meet my husband on the day I marry him.”

  “Aren’t you scared he’s ugly?” Brenna whispered.

  “What he looks like won’t matter. Papa assures me it’s a strong alliance,” Joan whispered in response.

  “Is that good?”

  “Oh, yes. Our king has given his approval.”

  “Rachel says you have to love your husband with your whole heart.”

  “That’s only a foolish wish. When she’s old enough, she’s going to marry a man named MacNare, and Rachel’s never met him. He doesn’t even live in England, but Father isn’t concerned about that. He was swayed by promises and gifts MacNare gave him.”

  “Elspeth says Papa won’t ever find anyone for me. She says Papa’s too busy for the likes of me. I have to catch one by myself. Will you help me?”

  Joan smiled. “I can see this is worrying you. I’ll be happy to help.”

  “How do I get one?”

  Joan pretended to consider the matter for a long minute before she answered.

  “I imagine you select the man you want and then you ask him to marry you. If he lives far away, then you must send a messenger to him. Yes, that would be how you would do it. You know, Brenna, Papa would be unhappy to hear us talking like this. It is his duty to find someone for you. Why are we whispering?”

  “Mama told me not to talk.”

  Joan burst into laughter. The noise alerted Elspeth, who immediately rushed over.

  “Please don’t encourage her, Lady Joan. Brenna, you were told to keep quiet. Doesn’t that mouth of yours ever rest?”

  “I’m sorry, Elspeth.”

  The nursemaid snorted in disbelief. “No, you’re not sorry.” She moved closer, wagged her finger in front of Brenna’s face, and then said, “One of these days God’s going to march in here and lecture you sound, young lady. Mark my words. You’ll be sorry then. He doesn’t like little girls who sass.”

  Elspeth finally left her alone, and Brenna fell asleep waiting for company to arrive. Her sister Rachel shook her awake and pulled her along to stand with her older sisters.

  Brenna hid behind Rachel’s back until her name was called and she was dragged out for display. She was suddenly feeling too shy to look up at the company, and as soon as her papa finished bragging about her, she moved behind her sister again.

  None of the strangers paid any attention to her, and so she decided to sneak out of the hall while everyone was ignoring her. She turned around, took one step toward the entrance, and then came to a quick stop.

  Three giants came through the door. She was too stunned to move. The one in the middle was taller than the other two and held her interest the longest. She watched him closely, and when her parents hurried forward to greet the newcomers, she realized he was even bigger than her own papa.

  She grabbed hold of Rachel’s hand and started tugging. Her sister took a long time to look down.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “He isn’t God, is he?” she asked, pointing to the dark-haired guest.

  Rachel rolled her eyes heavenward. “No, he most certainly isn’t God.”

  “Did Papa lie to me? He told me only God is bigger than he is, Rachel.”

  “No, Papa didn’t lie. He was just teasing you. That’s all. You don’t need to be afraid.”

  Brenna was thoroughly relieved. Papa hadn’t deceived her, after all, and God hadn’t bothered to come down from heaven to lecture her. There was still time for her to change what Elspeth told her was her sinful life.

  Her papa drew her attention when he let out a bellow of laughter. She smiled because he was having such a fine time, and then she turned to look at the middle one again. She’d been told time and again that it was rude to stare, but she didn’t pay any attention to her mother’s rule now. The giant mesmerized her, and she wanted to remember everything she could about him.

  He must have felt her staring at him, though, because he suddenly turned and looked directly at her.

  Brenna decided to make her papa proud of her and behave like a proper young lady. She grabbed a fistful of her skirt, hiked it up to her knees, and then bent down to curtsy. She promptly lost her balance and almost hit her head against the floor, but she was quick enough to lean back so she could land on her bottom.

  She stood back up, remembered to let go of her skirts, and then peeked up at the stranger to see what he thought about her newly acquired skill.

  The giant smiled at her.

  As soon as he looked away, she squeezed herself up against Rachel’s backside again.

  “I’m going to marry him,” she whispered.

  Rachel smiled. “That’s nice.”

  Brenna solemnly nodded. Yes, it was nice.

  Now all she had to do was ask.

  Papa let his daughters leave the hall a few minutes later. Brenna waited until everyone else had gone upstairs, then ran back outside. She was determined to catch one of the piglets today so she would finally have a pet of her very own. She would have preferred a pup, but Papa had let her older brothers and sisters have them all, and none were left for her, and she meant to right his terrible wrong by taking one of the piglets.

  Luck was on her side. The piglets’ mama had once again left the pen and was now sleeping in a mud pool on the far side of the stables halfway down the hill. Brenna tried not to make any noise, but she slipped in the mud and made a loud splatter anyway. The babies must have worn their mama out. She didn’t even lift her head or open her eyes. Brenna heard the loud squeak of the front doors being opened next, but when no one shouted at her, she was certain she hadn’t been seen.

  The piglets made her task easy, for they had rolled themselves into little balls and were sleeping on top of each other. Brenna scooped one into the hem of her skirts, wrapped it up tight, and then clutched it against her chest. She thought to run to the kitchens and hide her prize there, and she was sure she would have succeeded w
ith her plan, if her new pet hadn’t made such a fuss about it all.

  Brenna didn’t realize her jeopardy until she was outside the pen and heard a horrible noise coming toward her. Pigs weren’t supposed to fly, but the enraged mama seemed to be doing just that. Her head was down, her feet were moving faster than a bolt of lightning, and her intent was clearly issued with an ear-shattering squeal that sounded like the devil himself rising out of the bowels of hell to get her.

  Brenna opened her mouth and let out a wail every bit as worthy as her predator’s. Too terrified to think, she ran in circles, around and around the pen, her hair flying every which way, mud splattering everywhere, clutching her piglet in her arms as she screamed over and over again for her papa to come and save her.

  The sight that befell her parents was horrifying. Their sweet little angel was covered with mud and running around like a hen without her head.

  Everyone started running at the same time. Papa didn’t rescue her, for he had neither the speed nor the stride; the giant who had smiled at her did. And just in the nick of time.

  The mama’s snout tripped her, and just as Brenna was being pitched to the ground, she felt herself being lifted high into the air. She squeezed her eyes shut, remembered to stop screaming, and then looked around again. She was still in his arms, yet on the opposite side of the fence a fair distance away from the pen. She couldn’t imagine how he’d been able to jump over the obstacle.

  Chaos surrounded them. Everyone was running toward her. Her papa was the last one to reach the fence. He was still panting when she heard him ask his company if they knew what had caused the animal to attack his dear little Faith.

  Brenna wasn’t offended. Papa was always getting their names confused. He’d remember by nightfall though, and from the look in his eyes, she knew what would happen then. She’d spend a good hour sitting on his knobby knees while he scolded her. She didn’t even want to think about what her punishment would be if he discovered what she had hidden in her skirts. She fervently hoped he never found out.

  She knew her savior could feel her pet wiggling between them, and she finally gathered enough courage to look up at him to see what he was going to do about it. He looked surprised, and when the piglet let out another squeal, he smiled.

  She was so happy he wasn’t angry, she smiled back before she could remember to be shy.

  One of his friends stepped closer to the fence. “Connor, is everything all right?” He turned to answer. Brenna stopped him by putting her hand on the side of his face and nudging him back to her again. She whispered her plea then. He must not have heard her, because he leaned down closer until their foreheads were almost touching.

  “Don’t tell.”

  The giant suddenly threw his head back and roared with laughter. She told him to hush, but that only made him laugh all the more. He didn’t tell on her, though, and once he’d put her back down, she was able to run past her papa before he could grab hold of her.

  “Come back here, Brenna.”

  She pretended she didn’t hear him and continued on. It wasn’t until she was safely hidden under the kitchen table, with her new baby sleeping in her lap, that she realized she’d forgotten to ask the man to marry her. She wasn’t discouraged. She would ask him tomorrow, and if he told her no, she would come up with another plan. One way or another, she meant to catch him and save her papa the trouble.

  Chapter 2

  Scotland, 1119

  He wore war paint to his wedding.

  Connor MacAlister’s mood was just as grim as the dark blue paint smeared across his face and arms. The laird wasn’t happy about the duty he’d taken on, but he was an honorable man, and he would do whatever was required to gain justice.

  Connor had vengeance on his mind and in his heart; though, in truth, he didn’t think he was unusual. Every Highlander worth his sword was vengeful. It was simply the way things were.

  Five soldiers rode with their laird. The men were also finely turned out for battle, but their collective mood was much lighter, because none of them was going to be saddled with an English bride for the rest of his days.

  Quinlan, the first-in-command, rode beside his laird. The warrior was almost Connor’s equal in height, but he wasn’t quite as muscular through his shoulders, upper arms, and thighs and, therefore, didn’t measure up to Connor’s strength. That wasn’t the reason Quinlan had stayed on with the MacAlister clan, however. It was Connor’s intelligence, his relentless thirst for justice, and his unwavering leadership abilities that kept the warrior by his side. As his loyal follower, Quinlan would give his life to keep his laird safe. Connor had already saved him once, and Quinlan knew his laird would willingly do so again and again, regardless of the risk. The other men felt the same way Quinlan did, for Connor treated all of his followers as valuable members of his family.

  Quinlan wasn’t just a loyal follower; he was also a close friend, and like all the other MacAlisters, he too embraced his grudges, stroking them like lovers for years and years if need be, until he could find a way to right a wrong done to him or his family.

  “It isn’t too late to change your mind,” Quinlan remarked. “There are other ways to retaliate against MacNare on my father’s behalf.”

  “No. I’ve already sent word to my stepmother that I am taking a bride, and nothing you can say to me will make me change my mind.”

  “Do you think Euphemia will finally come back then?”

  “Probably not,” Connor answered. “She finds it too difficult to return to our land since my father was taken from her. She mourns his passing even to this day.”

  “What about Alec? Your brother ordered you to end this feud, and you gave him your word to do just that.”

  “Yes, and this will be my last insult. It will surely pain MacNare for a long, long time. I’ll have to be content with that. You know how hungry the pig is for an alliance with the English. We’ll use his greed to our advantage. Remember, friend, he shamed and humiliated your family.”

  “And we warred against him for his treachery.”

  “It wasn’t enough,” Connor decreed. “When I’m finished, your father will be able to hold his head up again. He’ll be vindicated.”

  Quinlan suddenly laughed. “I’m thinking God had a hand in this, Connor. We didn’t know until this morning the name of the daughter you meant to take. Do you remember her yet?”

  “She wasn’t easy to forget. Besides, I now have a better reason to give to Alec. That is more important to me.”

  “Your brother’s going to be furious all the same.”

  “No, he’ll be pleased once I make him realize the Englishwoman betrothed herself to me long ago.”

  “And what will you tell him?”

  “The truth. She did ask me to marry her. You haven’t forgotten that fact. You laughed for a week.”

  Quinlan nodded. “She asked you three times, but I would remind you that was years ago. She will surely have forgotten.”

  Connor smiled. “Will that matter?”

  Lady Brenna was suddenly overcome with the eerie sensation that someone or something was watching her. She was kneeling by the side of a shallow stream, drying her face and her hands with her embroidered cloth, when she felt a presence behind her.

  She didn’t make any quick movements. She knew better than to jump up and run back to camp. If a wild boar or worse were close by, any sudden actions would only draw more attention to herself.

  She pulled her dagger free and slowly turned as she stood up, bracing herself for what might be lurking in the dark underbrush.

  There wasn’t anything there. She waited several minutes for the threat to present itself, and still nothing moved. The only sound she heard was the loud thundering of her own heartbeat.

  It had been foolish for her to walk so far away from where her father’s men had made the nooning camp. If anything happened, she had no one to blame but herself, and if she hadn’t been so desperate for a moment alone, she would have thought m
ore about the possible consequences. She still would have gone in search of privacy, of course, but she would have taken the necessary precautions and carried her bow and arrows.

  Had she left her instincts at home? She thought she must have because she still felt she was being watched, and that didn’t make a bit of sense to her.

  Brenna decided she was just being foolish. If someone or something was there, she would have heard him or it approaching long before now. Papa had often told her how exceptional her hearing was, and wasn’t it a fact that he often boasted to his friends that she could hear the first leaf of autumn falling on a field of battle? Of course, this was an exaggeration. Still, there was some truth in what he said. She usually did hear every little sound.

  But she didn’t hear anything now. Brenna decided she was simply overwrought. The journey had been difficult for her, and she was tuckered out. Yes, that was it. Fatigue had to be the reason she was imagining threats that weren’t there.

  Laird MacNare. Heaven save her, every minute she had to spare, her mind turned to thoughts of her future husband. Then she usually threw up. She was thankful she hadn’t eaten today, knowing she’d be doubled over now if she had. Granted, she had never met the man and could be jumping to all the wrong conclusions. He might be quite pleasant. All those horrible stories about him could be exaggerations. Lord, she fervently hoped so. She didn’t want to be married to a cruel man, couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like, and, oh, how she’d tried to dissuade her father from making such a choice for her. He wouldn’t listen to any of her arguments, but then he rarely did.

  He’d been terribly cold in the way he’d told her, too. He shook her awake in the middle of the night, informed her of his decision, and then ordered her to help her mother and the maids prepare her baggage. She would leave for the Lowlands of Scotland at first light. The explanation he gave her on his way out the doorway wasn’t comforting. The marriage would help her father extend his fingers into Scotland, and since the king had decided Rachel should marry one of his favored barons, Haynesworth would give Brenna to MacNare. What was implied but not said was more painful for her to bear: her father loved her, aye, but he loved power and influence more.