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He gave an audible, sharp exhale and rolled back his shoulders. Euphemia’s lips gathered like a dried fruit.
“Aye.” The word came out as though he spat.
“Angus!” his brother cried.
Devils played in Euphemia’s eyes as she folded her arms over her chest. She looked him up and down slowly and licked her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. Angus’s hand clenched around the edge of the bench. Why was he so repulsed by her?
“The wedding will be in May,” she said. “Right after Lent.”
“And the contract?” Laomann said. “We must negotiate the dowry and the payment before—”
She waved her hand dismissively, her eyes sticking to Angus like pine resin. “All those details later. May I speak to ye, Lord?”
Angus cocked his head in the way of agreeing and downed the remnants of his uisge.
He let her lead him out of the great hall. She made a sharp turn behind the corner and dragged him into an alcove under the stairs. There, in the darkness, she gathered his tunic by his collar and pulled his face to hers. Her breath was warm against his neck, smelling of uisge. A rich, intense scent of roses filled his nostrils. But he resisted her attempt to pull him closer.
“Lady…”
“Dinna worry about waiting till the wedding night, my lord,” she whispered hotly. “I’m nae virgin. I had two husbands. I ken what is to happen between a man and his wife, and I want it to happen between us very much.”
She pulled him to her harder, but he turned his face away. “Lady, I canna.”
She paused and leaned back. “Ye canna?”
He cleared his throat. “I wilna. Nae till we’re marrit.”
She shook her head. “I dinna care about that.”
“But I do, Lady. Ye will be my wife before God and that will be the night I will take ye as a man takes a woman. Nae before.”
She scoffed, then cupped his jaw. Her cold hand burned against his skin. “I understand, Angus. I do. ’Tis yer right. Ye’re a man of yer beliefs.” Her eyes turned into two small chips of granite. “But understand as well, my sweet betrothed, that if ye change yer mind about the wedding, the consequences will be dear. I dinna take rejection lightly. I will take Kintail by force, and ye wilna be able to stop me.”
“My lady, if I give my word, ’tis harder than steel.”
“Good. But even steel can be broken.”
“I assure ye, it wilna come to that.”
She nodded, and he stepped out of her grasp, a boulder weighing on his heart. How would he live his life with such a woman as Euphemia? But as he walked back into the great hall, he knew that this was his life, to choose the path of duty and to carry it. Everything was worth it as long as his clan was safe.
Chapter 1
Eilean Donan Castle, May 2021
Rogene Wakeley laid two long candles neatly next to each other on the polished antique sideboard. Taking a deep breath, she told herself she was 99.9 percent happy for her friend.
Karin was getting married in Eilean Donan, having her dream wedding to the love of her life in the most beautiful castle in Scotland.
Rogene glanced at the fine painting hanging above the table on a rough stone wall. The portraits of generations of clan MacRae looked at the guests from the walls of the Banqueting Hall, surrounded by rococo and neoclassical furniture. Rogene took the bottle of whisky out of the bag and placed it near the silver quaich, a traditional, shallow drinking cup the couple would use as part of the wedding ceremony.
She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the guests were fine. Fifty or so people sat on the Chippendale chairs, murmuring quietly—elegantly dressed women in small hats with flowers, nets, and feathers, most men in kilts. The happy 99.9 percent of her had been glad to shake the hand of every single one of them as they had arrived and smile so much her face ached.
The happy 99.9 percent of her rejoiced in being the maid of honor, making sure all went according to Karin’s German standards: perfectly and by the minute. Which was good because Rogene was the responsible one. The one who had basically raised her brother, David, from the time she was twelve years old, despite living with their aunt and uncle.
David was talking to one of Karin’s relatives sitting in the front row. The fabric of his suit stretched across his broad shoulders. He was close to being accepted into Northwestern and was likely to get a football scholarship. Good Lord, when did he start looking so much like Dad?
Rogene’s eyes prickled.
