Chapter 2

Emily's escorts swung off their horses and two young boys rushed forward to lead the animals away. She made haste to climb down from her own weary horse and nearly landed on her bottom in the process. Her legs had fallen asleep on the long ride since daybreak and they ached like blue blazes.

Weak tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away. Suddenly a hand stretched out to steady her. Startled, she looked up. It was one of the clanswomen.

She was lovely with curling dark hair and slightly tilted, velvety brown eyes. She was also pregnant. Emily couldn't miss the protruding bulge under the woman's plaid, but if she was not mistaken, the other woman was only about five months into her confinement.

She curtsied. "My name is Caitriona, but I am called Cait. I am to be your sister." The woman spoke slowly and with a thick brogue that reminded Emily how far north into Scotland she had traveled.

"You speak English?" Emily asked in shock, returning the other woman's curtsy, her own a little awkward because her muscles still did not want to cooperate "Yes."

"I'm most pleased to meet you, Cait. My name is Emily Hamilton, daughter of Sir Reuben," she said in Gaelic.

"I had drawn that conclusion," Cait said with a teasing glint in her eye. "You speak our tongue."

"My father's holding is on the border."

"Ah. I knew only that you were English."

"I don't suppose you know where I am supposed to go now?"

The soldiers had all disappeared. "You will stay with me until the marriage. I am sorry you cannot have your own room, but there are no empty sleeping chambers in the keep at present." Cait smiled apologetically, her face shining with even more beauty when she did so.

No wonder Emily's intended was upset he had been ordered to marry her if Highland women were all as lovely as this one. She had no illusions about her own looks. Sybil had made sure of that. Her lack of height was not the only thing the older woman found lacking in Emily's appearance. According to Sybil, Emily's hair was too curly and too bland. Unlike the lustrous dark locks of the woman standing in front of her, Emily's hair was a cross between blond and light brown. Sybil had often commented that it could not make up its mind what it wanted to be.

She also lamented the fact that Emily's eyes were the color of lavender. Who ever heard of purple eyes? Sybil had said more than once in Emily's hearing, that she thought it might be a sign from above and not a good one. But by far, Emily's worst shortcoming, according to her stepmother, was her well-rounded body, too curved to fit the aesthetic ideal of tall, regal and understated femininity.

"Won't your husband mind me staying with you?" she asked as her stiff fingers worked to untangle the ties that held the satchel attached to her saddle.

Cait took over the task. "My mate died in battle these four months past."

Emily didn't ask what battle. According to the English and even the lowland Scots, the Highlanders spent all their time at war, or preparing for one. "I'm very sorry." She reached out and impulsively squeezed the other woman's hand. "Are you sure you won't mind sharing your home?"

A grieving woman might very well want her privacy.

"No, I will like the company. It is very lonely at the keep sometimes, being the only woman in residence."

So, Cait lived in the keep? Emily wasn't sure if that was good or bad news since so did the scowling warrior she was supposed to marry. "There are no female servants?" Emily asked, aghast as the full import of the other woman's words sank in.

"Some, but they live in the bailey."

"None live in the keep?" Emily asked, eyeing the large towerlike building. Close up it looked even bigger than it had upon first sight, definitely large enough to house a family and their servants comfortably. "Who fills the sleeping chambers?"

"Warriors."

"Isn't that unusual?"

Cait sighed. "Not here."

"Is the laird planning war? I could not help but notice he did not greet me or show any reaction to my arrival." Well, nothing but dislike and she wasn't going to come right out and say so. She was hoping he was simply in a bad mood… not that he truly hated her as much as his sulfuric look had implied.

"Do not mind Talorc. He is not reconciled to this marriage, but he will come around," replied Cait encouragingly as she led the way inside.

She said something else, but Emily had stopped listening. The keep's great hall was cavernous and poorly lit. It was also filled with soldiers wearing the Sinclair plaid. The men ignored Cait and Emily, and for that she was very grateful.

She'd thought her escorts intimidating enough, but en masse the warriors of her new family were downright terrifying.

She scooted closer to Cait and followed the other woman to the back of the hall and down a set of stairs. An open doorway off to the right revealed a storage room, but Cait led her into a room on the left. It was a small bedroom. Unlike most rooms on the lower level of the keep, it had a series of tiny boxlike windows near the ceiling that let in light.

It was clean and much more cheerful than the unadorned great hall. Emily set her satchel on the bed beside several bundles she recognized as the ones her escort had carried on their horses after sending her father's soldiers away.

The bed was covered in the Sinclair plaid. Another plaid was draped over the single chair in the room and there were two small trunks along one wall.

Cait lifted the lid of one. "You can put your things in here."

"Thank you." Emily wanted nothing more than to curl up on the bed and sleep until the next century, but she began putting her belongings away. "You said your brother was not reconciled to this marriage?"

Cait helped the obviously exhausted Englishwoman by handing her bundles from the bed. "Yes."

"Why? Did he want to marry someone else? Does he hate the fact that I'm English?"

"It is very unusual for a Highlander to marry outside of the clans," Cait said diplomatically.

But the truth was, she was still shocked her brother had acceded to the king's demand that he marry an Englishwoman. Talorc had more reason than most to distrust both the English and humans. Since Emily was both, Cait couldn't help worrying that the match was doomed from the start.

She tried to look at the positive and believe her brother would get past his prejudices. He simply refused to see that not all humans were untrustworthy because some were capable of betrayal. Some of the Chrechte were capable of betrayal as well; it wasn't simply a human weakness. But it made no difference to Talorc. He chose to view all humans as weak and unprincipled.

Similarly, one couldn't lump all the English together; they couldn't all be heathen usurpers, could they? Certainly the sweet woman beside her did not have the scent of betrayal or greed clinging to her person as their stepmother had.

"You mean to say that they are as appalled by the fact that I'm English as my parents were to discover one of their daughters had to be sent to marry a Scot?" Emily asked.

Cait sighed. "Appalled is a mild word for Talorc's reaction when he received word from Scotland's king."

"I see."

"Do not take it personally," Cait said earnestly.

"How can I? The man has not spoken a single word to me."

Cait relaxed, relief flaring through her. "I'm glad you are so sensible." She sighed again. "I cannot say the same for my brother."

"Has he upset your king to be punished this way?"

"No," Cait gasped. Where did the English get their ideas? "King David respects my brother a great deal, but he has been influenced by the Normans of England and adopted many of their ways. It is for that reason he wanted Talorc to take an English bride. He is hoping you will tame him."

It was Emily's turn to gasp. She looked like she'd just swallowed a fish whole. "Your brother told you this?" she demanded. "I would not have thought such a fierce warrior would confide so personal a thing to his younger sister."

Cait had to laugh at that. "Oh, no. I listened to the soldiers talking."

Emily grinned and then laughed as Cait blushed at what she'd admitted to.

"It's a shameful habit, I know, but…"

"How would you learn anything otherwise?" Emily finished for her.

Feeling like she'd met a true sister of the heart, Cait asked, "You don't think I'm terrible?"

"I've overheard many an important conversation in my father's keep." Emily shrugged. "Men keep women in the dark when they shouldn't… and parents are not always as forthright with their children as one might wish."

"Amen to that. My brother has been like a father to me for many years. He didn't even tell me he had arranged my marriage until I was called to the great hall to speak my vows."

"Were you happy in your marriage?"

Cait wished she could say yes, because it was so obvious her new friend was looking for some kind of solace, but she couldn't make herself lie to the other woman. Even for Emily's peace of mind. "It was a good match to cement my brother's power in the clan, but Fergus and I had little in common."

"Still, it must be difficult he is gone now that you are pregnant with his child." Then Emily's hand flew to cover her mouth. "I'm so sorry. I know I shouldn't speak of it."

"Is that an English custom, to pretend ignorance when a woman is increasing?" Cait asked, trying not to laugh at the idea. She did not wish to offend the other woman.

"Yes, actually."

Cait shook her head. "I am due in four months and I cannot wait. To be a mother is a great blessing among my people."

"The abbess says that according to the Church, to give birth is to rectify the sins of Eve." Emily's brow furrowed. "It is considered evidence of Heaven's blessing on a marital union."

"An abbess said that?" It sounded more like something an English priest would say to Cait.

Emily's mouth tipped in a small grin and she winked conspiratorially at Cait. "Well, she didn't say she agreed."

"I have heard that an abbess can be a woman of great political power in England."

"Yes."

"You're lucky then to be related to one."

"Oh, I'm not."

"Then were you sent to an abbey for schooling?"

"No, but a very learned abbess came to stay in my father's holding while traveling from her abbey to the home of one of her former students. She was wonderful. She was never too impatient to answer my questions and even tried to talk Papa into allowing me to attend schooling at the abbey. My stepmother refused and later I had cause to be glad, but I was allowed to correspond with the abbess frequently. I think more because my stepmother did not wish to make an enemy of her, but whatever the reason, her missives will be one of the things I shall miss most living here." She smiled valiantly, though her violet eyes were rimmed with fatigue. "I'm sure I'll find other things to make up for it."

Cait admired Emily's spirit and only hoped the other woman's faith would be rewarded.


Emily found many odd things about her new home over the next few days. Not least of which was the fact that her intended husband had yet to speak a single word to her. For the most part, he ignored her. However, when he did deign to notice her, his scowl was every bit as furious as it had been the first time she saw him.

She made no effort to introduce herself, determined to save meeting him for later, when he was in a better mood. She thought that just might happen about the day she went to meet her Maker.

She helped Cait with the chore of running the keep, much as she had with Sybil, but enjoyed the task more. She and Cait had a great deal in common and grew to be good friends very quickly.

The two women were crossing the great hall one evening after her arrival when Talorc turned to them. "Cait, bring the woman here."

Cait grimaced at her brother's surly tone, but turned to obey.

The woman? Emily couldn't believe the laird's effrontery. If he didn't start showing some manners soon, she was going to give him a lecture that would make Sybil's seem like friendly gossip. Her temper, which had been pricked on her arrival, climbed toward a boil.

As Cait walked past she whispered to Emily, "Don't let him frighten you. His bark is worse than his bite."

She almost laughed because it was obvious Cait was at least a little frightened herself. However, she soon became angered at the thought. A pregnant woman should not be upset in any way. Hadn't her father often said so when Sybil was carrying? Emily turned and glared at Talorc, but did not move to obey.

"Is she stupid then? Why isn't she following you?" Talorc demanded loudly of his sister. "You told me she spoke our language."

Cait turned a worried look to Emily and her eyes widened to round saucers when she saw Emily's defiant stance. Then she smiled.

Emily didn't give her a chance to answer her brother. "Why don't you ask that woman yourself?" she challenged Talorc. "That is if you can bring yourself to speak to her."

If he thought she was saying her vows to a man who would not even address her, then he was sadly mistaken.

"Or perhaps I'll just tell you. I am not stupid, nor am I deaf. You do not need to shout your requests like an old man who no longer hears properly."

"You dare to insult me?" Talorc roared.

"Of course she does not insult you," Cait interrupted with speed.

Emily started walking toward the clan leader. "Nay, I do not insult you."

Talorc nodded his head at her statement, apparently mollified. However her next words had him red with anger.

"When I wish to insult you, I can think of things much more offensive to call you than an old man. It is more of an insult to old men to compare their deaf shouts to your rude bellows," she replied, nodding for emphasis.

This had Talorc bellowing again about the barbarous tongues of English women. She laughed out loud to be called a barbarian by someone so uncouth as the man yelling at her. She noticed Cait smiling, too. Looking at her, Emily was sure her newfound friend understood her amusement.

Talorc felt like exploding. He grabbed the woman when she reached him, but stopped himself from shaking her. His strength was too deadly to allow it free reign against an innocent, even a rebellious Englishwoman. She was pretty with her purple eyes and womanly curves, but he felt no physical reaction to touching her.

He pulled her close until their thighs brushed and… nothing. No lust stirred in his loins, no desire to mate with the female. Just as he had feared when the order had come from his king. Talorc was a werewolf and even mated to a femwolf, the possibility for offspring was low, but with a human it was almost nonexistent.

Only in a true mating could a wolf and human joining result in children. He did not know how to tell if a woman was his true mate. According to the elders of his pack, there was no way… not until after the physical mating took place. But once that event took place, there could be no going back. His pack's laws stipulated that a physical mating dictated a lifetime bond.

However, he was certain of one thing. He would at least physically desire the woman if they were destined to be true mates. He did not want this woman. Though he admired her spirit, he did not even like her. How could he? She was English.

His own father had learned the folly of wedding the treacherous English. They could not be trusted… ever. And he would not have his mate chosen by a human king all too enamored of their southern foe.

He pushed Emily away, his repudiation reflected back at him in the lavender eyes spitting fury.

His clanswomen were not so undisciplined, but he had no desire to tame this English wildcat. "Listen well, woman, I'll not marry my enemy even to please my king."

"Splendid," she replied. "I believe I would rather be married to a goat than you!"

Cait took advantage of her brother's spluttering to whisk Emily up the stairs to her room. She hurried her inside and shut the door.

She looked at Emily with a mixture of disbelief and amazement. "Are you daft?"

"No, is he?"

Cait smiled. Her smile turned into a laugh and soon they were both laughing so hard that Cait collapsed on the bed and Emily leaned against the wall for support.

"I can't believe I'm laughing when my brother is surely going to kill us both," gasped Cait.

"I suppose I have gotten you in trouble with my hasty tongue, haven't I? Although, how Talorc could hold you responsible for me after such short acquaintance I don't know."

Cait shook her head. "He won't be truly angry with me, but I think he meant what he said about not marrying you."

"That's a blessing as far as I can see," Emily said with some asperity.

Cait pushed away from the wall, tucked in her stray pleats and shook her head. "If he doesn't marry you, what will happen?"

Emily's sense of victory faded. "I do not know." He sure as certain wasn't going to send for her sister Abigail to come live with them in his current state of mind.

"Did you really tell my brother you would rather be married to a goat?" Cait asked, as she smoothed her now tidy pleats over her swollen abdomen.

Emily felt herself blush at the remembrance and chagrin filled her. She'd left England determined to make herself indispensable in her husband-to-be's household so that he would let her bring Abigail to the Highlands. Now, he was likely to send her home in disgrace.

And she had no doubt Abigail would be sent in her place, even if he didn't request a new bride. Emily's stomach contracted at the thought.

She sighed in vexation with herself. The man's rudeness was no excuse for her losing her head like that. "Aye, I did. I don't know what came over me. Sybil is always telling me I need to be more ladylike. I suppose your brother thinks I'm not and there's no hope of changing his mind."

Cait laughed again and shook her head. "That is an understatement. My brother is not used to men challenging him. A challenge from a woman is bound to keep him in a foul mood a good long while." Cait sobered a little at the thought.

"Do you think he meant what he said about not marrying me, even against the orders of his overlord?"

"You needn't sound so happy about it. Talorc isn't that bad," replied Cait reprovingly.

"Yes, of course, you should say that. You are his devoted sister after all. And I'm not hopeful… not exactly." Not when her duty to her sister dictated she marry the cranky warrior. "But do you think he meant it?"

"I don't know. Talorc rarely says something he does not mean. In fact, I am not sure I remember a time he has done so," admitted Cait.

"Do you think he will send me back to England?"

Cait's eyes filled with worry. "I do not know, but I do not want you to go. I have come to rely on your company."

It was a question that had still not been answered the next afternoon. Emily desperately wanted to go home, but knew mat no matter what Talorc had decided for her future, she had to talk him out of sending her back to England. Sure as certain, she was going to have to apologize.

And the thought of apologizing to the laird was as unpleasant as the prospect of marrying him.

But Abigail would never survive life amidst the Sinclair clan. They were a prejudiced people, and Abigail's affliction on top of her being English was bound to make her life a misery.

Cait was the only person in the clan that made Emily feel welcome in any way. Everyone else either ignored her or was blatantly hostile. Especially the soldiers. It was as if they were personally offended she had been chosen to marry their laird. She felt like a leper and without Cait's friendship, she would have despaired.

As it was, when the two women went to the stream the other clanswomen used for washing, they were greeted by glares and not a single welcoming smile. Emily did her best to ignore the waves of rejection rolling over her and began washing her gowns marred by dirt on the journey north from England. But one by one, each of the clans-women left, making it clear they did not want to be soiled by her presence. Stupid, weak tears filled her eyes.

"Are they like this with all outsiders?" Emily asked Cait as she blinked back the wetness in her eyes and tried to pretend it did not bother her.

"No. One of our warriors has just mated with a woman from the Balmoral clan and the other women accepted her warmly." Cait sighed. "I fear news of your confrontation with my brother has reached the rest of the clan. They're very loyal to their laird."

"And I called him a goat."

"Not quite," Cait said with a smile.

"You're loyal to your brother, but you don't hate me, do you?" she asked, realizing Cait's kind heart might be moved to pity, but she could very well dislike Emily as much as the rest of the clan.

"Of course not. And the other women won't once they get to know you either."

"Don't they care that he called me his enemy?"

Cait shrugged. "You are English."

"And therefore the enemy?"

The other woman sighed sadly. "Yes, but it is more than that. I suppose I should have told you. Only I had hoped Talorc would learn to be reasonable about it."

"About what?"

"Our father married an Englishwoman."

"Your mother was English?"

"No. She died when I was very small. Our father remarried when Talorc was fourteen. I was five at the time. The woman was very beautiful, but not trustworthy. They had only been married three years when she betrayed our father to an English baron, greedy for more holdings. It cost our father his life and that of many clan members. Talorc has never forgiven or forgotten the offense."

"He wouldn't, but does he truly believe I would betray him too… just because I am English?"

Cait looked away. "Yes."


The next morning, Emily approached Talorc, She knew she had to apologize to him and now was as good a time as any. Besides, she wanted his permission to walk to a small lake Cait had told her about.

She wanted a bath and did not want a repeat of the day before. Naturally, she would not tell Talorc that bit of her plan.

"What do you want?" he demanded.

"I wish to apologize… for saying I would rather wed a goat than you."

"Why?"

"I was angry with you."

"I know why you insulted me. Why are you apologizing?"

"A marriage begun with insults has little hope of harmony."

"There will be no marriage."

"But your king—"

"Will forget such an insignificant order in due course."

"You believe an order to wed insignificant?"

"Yes."

"I see. What do you plan to do with me then?"

He shrugged as if her future was of no consequence. And undoubtedly, to him it would be. But she could not be so sanguine. "I do not want you to send me home."

"You lie, just like all the English."

"I do not lie."

"You do not want to live here."

"That is true."

"Then you lie."

"I don't."

She saw nothing for it and explained about Abigail.

"So, you came in hopes of saving your sister from having to come here and marry me?"

"Yes."

"That is commendable." He said it grudgingly, but he was no longer scowling at her.

"She is gentle. She would not understand the coldness of your clan toward an English bride for their laird."

"And you do?"

Emily didn't, but she wasn't about to destroy the little rapport they had managed to achieve by saying so. "I do not want my sister hurt."

"I will not hurt her."

"So, you will not send me back?"

"I have not decided."

He stood up as if to go and she understood their discussion was at an end. She hurriedly made her request about the lake. He did not acknowledge it directly, but assigned a single young soldier to escort her, thereby giving his tacit approval and underscoring just how unimportant she was in his estimation if he would not waste a seasoned warrior on her escort.

But he had seemed to understand about Abigail at least. That was something. When Cait heard where Emily planned to go, the other woman insisted on accompanying her.

They reached the lake after a half an hour of brisk walking. Cait ordered the young soldier to wait for them with his back turned on the other side of some bushes. After realizing the two women intended to bathe, the boy turned bright red and hurried to obey his laird's sister.

As always, Emily was careful to stay in the shallowest water, refusing Cait's invitation to swim with hidden revulsion. The thought of going into deeper water made her sick to her stomach as it always did and she had to bide that as well. She was proud of her ability to do so.

Emily and Cait were finished bathing and redonning their clothes when Cait went utterly still. She turned toward where the Sinclair soldier had gone as if trying to see through the thick plant growth.

"What's the matter?" Emily asked. "He's not peeking is he?"

Cait shook her head and put her finger against her lips in a sign to be quiet. Emily couldn't imagine what had her so agitated, but she did as Cait said and finished dressing as silently as possible. Cait did the same, her expression stark with worry.

She went rigid with tension, grabbing the small knife she used at mealtimes from her belt. Her eyes were fixed on the foliage several feet from the water's edge. Emily's gaze followed Cait's, though she had no idea what they were both watching for. A wild animal perhaps? But she hadn't heard anything and she had very good hearing.

The answer came a second later as five gigantic warriors, their faces painted with macabre blue designs and wearing a plaid of dark blue, green and pale yellow came out of the forest. They were riding the biggest horses she'd ever seen… bareback.

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