The Clan MacDougall Series (136 page)

Isobel had come to help Bree ready herself for the evening meal. They chose a dark green damask gown trimmed in gold thread. Isobel plaited Bree’s hair into a crown around her head with a long braid dangling down her back. She attached a simple white veil to the top of Bree’s crown and smiled in satisfaction.

“Ye’ll take his breath away fer certain, Bree!” Isobel giggled when she saw Bree burn crimson. “Don’t fash yerself Bree! He is sure to admire yer heart as well as yer bonny face.”

Bree wondered silently how her mother always seemed to know what she was thinking.

“I’ve done some askin’ around, Bree,” Isobel said as she straightened Bree’s veil. “I’m told Gillon Randolph is a handsome lad. He’s a bit quiet, they tell me. He’s the eldest son of James Randolph and he’ll be chief of their clan someday.”

Bree’s mind was otherwise engaged, thinking back to the wall of muscles and twinkling eyes that had caught her off guard earlier. She sighed heavily as she only half listened to her mother talk of Gillon’s qualities.

Isobel grew silent and studied her daughter for several moments. “Lass, what bothers ye?”

Bree shook her head. Her mother would not understand how confused she was feeling at the moment and all because of a pair of gray-blue eyes and sinfully full lips that had seemed to have taken her mind as prisoner.

“Do ye worry he’ll no’ like ye?” Isobel asked.

“Nay, mum, I do no’.”

A warm smile came to Isobel’s face. “Ye worry ye’ll no’ like
him,
” Isobel said as she smoothed non-existent wrinkles from her yellow gown of silk.

Bree closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Aye, that was one of the many things that worried her heart and mind. Mayhap she should tell her mother the truth.

“Och! Bree! Ye needn’t worry it much. ’Tis just a courtin’. No one is askin’ ye to marry the lad!” Isobel said as she gave a gentle squeeze to Bree’s arms.

Bree realized that her mother was correct. She would meet this Gillon Randolph, be polite and gracious, but when the night was done she would pull her parents aside and tell them the truth. She couldn’t possibly care for Gillon Randolph. Not now. Not ever.

For her heart had mysteriously and unequivocally fallen for someone else. He was someone she’d known most of her life. Someone she had always looked upon as a brother, a friend, and a guardian.

Until this afternoon, she had never taken notice of his broad shoulders, his strong, muscled arms, or his full lips. She had never noticed how his eyes twinkled or the wicked secret that his lips quietly promised. He’d always been there, like her family, ready to tease or offer a shoulder. Why hadn’t she noticed him in such a manner before this day?

But something had happened today, something that was both strange and wonderful and frightening at the same time. Bree could not begin to make sense of it, let alone begin to explain it to anyone else.

Bree lifted her chin, pushed her shoulders back, and nodded to her mum. “Yer right. I worry over nothing. ’Tis just a dinner and nothin’ more than that,” she said with a smile.

Isobel took Bree’s hands into her own and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Now ye have the right of it, lass!”

Admittedly, Bree did feel better. She would get through the evening meal then confess her true heart to her mum and da later. Tonight however, she had to keep the promise that she had made to her da, to allow this Gillon Randolph a chance. Believing no harm could come from it, Bree smiled and gave her mother a hug.

“What harm can one meal do?” Bree asked aloud as Isobel led her from the bedchamber. “’Tisn’t like I have to marry the lad!”

Bree felt as though her very soul had been sucked from her body. Never had she felt so alone, so disheartened or disillusioned. It was to have been a simple meal and nothing more. Now she stood before her father and mother, grief stricken and heart broken. And it was all Gillon Randolph’s fault.

Why had she agreed to his invitation to walk with him after the meal? Had she simply said no thank you, then none of this would be happening. She wouldn’t feel as though her heart had been ripped from her chest and trampled on by a hundred horses.

Had she declined Gillon’s invitation, she would at this very moment, be telling her parents the truth instead of the lie that somehow managed to find its way through her lips.

“Bree, are ye certain?” Angus asked her with a scrutinizing glare. He looked as hurt as Bree felt.

“Aye, I am,” she answered in a low whisper.

“But ye’ve just met the lad! How can ye wish to marry him?” Angus tried to add some softness to his voice but it was very difficult. This was his youngest child, his beautiful, sweet Bree.

To tell her father the whole truth would have brought him nothing more than shame. She could not do that to him.

“He’s a kind young man, da. He’ll make a good husband.” She nearly choked on that lie as well. Gillon Randolph would most assuredly
not
make her a good husband. But she had no choice in the matter. She had to do this. She had to do it for the sake of her father’s pride as well as the future of her clan.

Bree clasped her hands together to keep anyone from noticing how they trembled. She could not look at her father, or her mother right now. She did not doubt that her mother would be able to see the shame she felt and Bree felt she did not have the strength to deal with it right now.

She was sacrificing herself for the good of the clan, nothing more. She had to do this.

“Bree,” Isobel finally spoke. She was sitting in a chair in front of Angus’ desk. “Tell me what is in yer
heart
lass. Do ye love Gillon?”

Love Gillon? Nay. Not now, not ever. But she could not admit that to her mother, or to anyone else. For the first time in her life, Bree lied to her mother. “Aye,” she said, still unable to look Isobel in the eye.

Isobel’s sigh told Bree she did not believe her. But what was she to do? Tell her mother the truth? Nay, it would devastate Isobel to learn the truth of the matter.

Bree could not and would not tell either of her parents that she had learned the truth behind the gathering of the seven clans. She could not tell them that she knew a marriage between she and Gillon Randolph was the only way of bringing peace among the seven.

Angus had always promised that she could choose her own husband, that he would never force a marriage on any of his children. They were all free to pick a spouse of their own liking. But war between the clans was imminent.

Gillon had enlightened her to the truth of it all last night. He had been honest and told her that he no more wanted a marriage with her than she with him. However, he felt he owed a duty to his own clan to agree to such a union and he felt Bree should know the full meaning behind the courting. Ultimately, the decision would be left up to her to marry him or not. But if she denied his offer, war would ensue, and the peaceful life she had been living would be no longer.

How could she say no? How could she in good conscience deny her clan peace? How could she, in good conscience, say no with the knowledge that if any lives were lost they were lost because of that one little word? The fate of so many people, people that she adored and loved, lay at her feet. She could not deny them the peace that they deserved.

And she could not risk the death of the man who had inexplicably won her heart in the hallway just yesterday afternoon. Bree could not put his life in jeopardy.

“Bree, leave us now. Let yer father and me talk fer a time before we give ye our decision,” Isobel stood and laid a hand on Bree’s shoulder.

“Is it no’ my decision to make, mum?” Bree asked.

“To a certain extent, it is lass. But the final say rests with yer da and me. Now, go on with ye. Wait for me in yer chamber.”

Bree took a deep breath before leaving the room.

She thought back to her own words the night before.
What harm could one meal do?
Apparently, far more than she could ever have imagined.

W
ord of Bree’s impending engagement spread through the keep like wildfire. To say the people were shocked and surprised would have been a tremendous understatement. To say Caelen and Nial were beside themselves with frustration and disgust was just as grand an understatement.

“This is all Angus’ fault!” Nial seethed as he paced back and forth in front of the stables.

Caelen sat on the ground nearby and kept his anger hidden, at least for now.

“How could Bree agree to such a thing?” Nial asked, not expecting an answer.

“We’ve time to stop it,” Caelen said rather flatly as he pulled a dagger from his belt. The morning sunshine glinted off the cold steel and brought a slight smile to Caelen’s lips.

Nial ran a hand through his hair, his insides all a jumbled mess. “What could she possibly see in the lad?”

“I never much liked the boy and I like his da even less,” Caelen said as he ran his thumb along the blade.

“There be something wrong with that lad, I can feel it in me bones!” Nial shook his head and continued to pace.

“I wonder if the lad can fight?” Caelen asked to no one in particular.

“Bree canna ken what she is doin’, there can be no other explanation.”

“I do no’ think he can fight. ’Twould be easy enough to run me blade across his throat. He’d be none the wiser fer it.”

“This is why women should no’ be allowed to choose their own husbands, fer they do no’ always think with clear heads.” Nial spat at the ground and continued to shake his head.

“I could kill him easily enough, ’twould no’ even break into a sweat.” Caelen’s smile broadened at the thought.

“She’s far too good fer the little snot!” Nial continued to rant.

“I could blame the Bowie clan fer I have a bit of their plaid saved fer such an occasion.” Caelen chuckled at the devious plan running through his mind.

“He’ll ruin her. He’ll try to break her spirit! And ’tis her spirit that makes her so, so…” Nial searched for the right word. “Her spirit is what makes her so bonny!”

“I suppose I should kill the da as well. I do no’ trust him. James Randolph is just as odd as his son.”

“We must go to Angus and protest this. We must get him to see that Bree be making the biggest mistake of her life.”

There were two different conversations taking place, but the intent of each man was the same. They had to stop Bree from marrying Gillon Randolph. Either by reasoning with Angus or by killing the young man. At the moment, it mattered little to either man how they might stop the wedding, so long as it was stopped.

Nial stopped and looked down at Caelen. “So ye agree then?” he asked.

Caelen sheathed his dagger and pulled himself to his feet. “Aye, I do.”

Nial nodded his head and breathed a sigh of relief. “Do ye think Bree will forgive us fer stoppin’ this?”

“Mayhap no’ at first. But eventually she will see the right of it,” Caelen said as he patted Nial on the shoulder.

“I would no’ care so much, her gettin’ married, if she’d chosen a lad more likable,” Nial offered.

“True,” Caelen agreed. “There are many more suitable men fer Bree. Far more honorable men.”

“Aye, and eventually she’ll see we were right and did this only fer her benefit,” Nial said as he began walking toward the keep.

Caelen agreed with a firm slap to Nial’s back. “Aye!” he said with a broad smile. “She’ll no grieve long, I’m certain.”

Nial assumed Caelen meant that Bree would grieve over the loss of a wedding and not a life.

Gillon had been so angry with his father that he had spent the better part of the evening trying to figure out a way to get even. As luck would have it, Bree was easier to mold than he had anticipated.

He stood now, alone on the top floor of the tall north tower. It was very late and a light mist hung in the warm summer night air. He could see the many small fires still burning in the camps that dotted the horizon and laughed in amusement at the false security those below him felt.

None had an inkling or suspicion as to all the secret meetings taking place while they slept peacefully, in utter ignorance. His own father was included among those ranks.

His thoughts turned to Bree McKenna. He did not care for the lass’ cheerful disposition or her easy smile. Her only saving grace was that she was a beautiful young woman, curvaceous, and untouched by another man’s hands. The fact that she had little interest in or knowledge of clan politics only played to Gillon’s favor.

It had been easy enough to convince her that the only way to have peace amongst the clans was for them to marry. The fact that he stressed to her his lack of interest or want in such a betrothal was of great benefit to him. Letting her know he was just as against such a union had only helped matters.

’Twas only after he told her that his desire was for them to eventually forge a genuine, honest bond out of respect for one another, did she finally agree to his proposal. Bree’s heart, honor, and love of clan would not only be her downfall, it would also lead to the downfalls of others.

Bree was as unsuspecting a lass as he’d ever encountered. It hadn’t taken much work on his part to convince her, to get her to see that the fate of seven clans rested entirely upon her shoulders. Had she not been so confoundedly honorable or possessed such a good heart, his words would have fallen on deaf ears.