Page 29 of Highlanders for the Holidays
“But don’t ye see? The kings won’t allow it. They’ve betrothed ye to a Norman because they want a Norman to hold the land.”
“It doesn’t matter if they’ll allow it. ‘Twill be done. I’ll be wed ere they can have their say.” She smirked. “Besides, ye’ve already made good on the handfastin’.”
“We can say I haven’t,” Ysenda said, clutching her sister’s sleeve in desperation. “We can say ‘twas never consummated. Then ye’ll be free to…” She almost choked on the words. “To wed Sir No?l.”
“I don’twantto wed Sir No?l.”
“Ye must. ‘Tis the will o’ the king.”
“I don’t care,” Cathalin said with a pretty pout. “Besides, Da said the royals wouldn’t dare come to the Highlands to—”
Ysenda grabbed her sister by the shoulders. “Theywillcome. They’ll send men like those,” she said, pointing toward the Knights of de Ware. “And they’ll kill everyone in the clan if ye don’t do as the king wills.”
Cathalin pried Ysenda’s hand from her shoulder. “Then ye’re goin’ to have to keep pretendin’ye’reCathalin. ‘Tis the only way to keep the peace.”
Ysenda sighed in exasperation. “He’ll find out. Even if I say nothin’, it won’t be a secret for long. As soon as Da dies, the secret will be out.”
Cathalin straightened with pride. “By then my Highland husband will have raised an army to defend the keep.” She scoffed. “His men will slaughter every last one o’ these wee bairns with their wee blades.”
Ysenda could only stare at her sister, mortified. How could Cathalin be so delusional, so reckless? She would bring destruction down upon their clan. And for what? So she could wed the man of her choice? A man she’d never even met?
She wanted to wring her sister’s perfect neck.
But maybe she could try a different approach. Ysenda had no intention of going to France in Cathalin’s stead, leaving Caimbeul and their clan behind to be killed by the king’s army.
“Ye know, Sir No?l would be a very good match for ye.” The words were hard to push past her throat. “He comes from a wealthy family. Ye’d live in a beautiful castle. Ye’d have everythin’ ye desire. Servants at your beck and call. All the new gowns ye want. Jewels, furs, falcons. Sir No?l would grant your every wish, I know. And your bairns… They’d be the most beautiful children in all o’ France.”
“That may be.” Cathalin sniffed. “But I refuse to marry such a blind and stupid man.”
She blinked. “What do ye mean?”
Cathalin lifted her haughty chin. “How could the fool have thoughtyewere the most beautiful lass in all o’ Scotland?”
While Ysenda stood with her mouth agape, Cathalin picked up her skirts and stalked off in a vexed huff.
Ysenda could only stare off after Cathalin. She couldn’t argue with her. Thatwaswhat Sir No?l had thought. And once Cathalin’s pride was insulted, there was no way to assuage her feelings.
Hell. Now she didn’t know what to do.
* * *
No?l rapped lightlyon the door. “Caimbeul?”
There was no answer. But he heard a startled scrape on the other side.
He slowly opened the door, preparing to defend himself if necessary.
Caimbeul was sitting on the floor below the window, scowling up at him.
“I need to speak with ye,” No?l said.
Caimbeul’s frown turned mistrustful.
No?l closed the door behind him. Caimbeul made no move to rise, but perhaps the young man’s twisted frame made it difficult for him to stand. He obliged the lad by hunkering down before him.
“I think ‘tis best we speak plainly,” he told him, “so I’d like the truth from ye. Do ye have…feelin’s for my bride?”
Caimbeul’s face twisted. “Feelin’s? What do ye mean?”
