Page 26 of The Handfasting
She mostly wanted to avoid going to Cathalin’s bedchamber.
Ysenda’s will was weaker than ever now. Not only did she desire this Norman knight with the handsome face, unruly black hair, and dazzling blue eyes. But now she also adored him.
He made her laugh. He made her feel beautiful. He made her feel loved.
She glanced down at the Wolf of de Ware ring on her finger. Giving him up was going to be painful. And the more intimate they became, the harder it would be.
Cathalin was watching the knights battle as well. Maybe if Ysenda could get her sister alone, talk to her, she could make her see reason.
After No?l left, she approached.
“Cathalin,” she whispered, tugging on her sleeve.
Cathalin whipped her head around. “Don’t call me that,” she hissed. “They might hear ye.”
“We need to talk.”
“There’s nothin’ to talk about.”
“’Twill take but a moment. We likely won’t see each other again for years. Can we not at least say farewell?”
Cathalin rolled her eyes. “Ach, very well. I’ve grown weary o’ watchin’ these French bairns playin’ with their wee blades anyway.”
Wee blades? Their broadswords might not be as big as a Scots claymore, but Ysenda was sure an agile Norman with a light blade had a definite advantage over a Highlander with a heavy sword.
They retreated to a spot along the back wall of the keep.
Cathalin crossed her arms over her bosom. “What did ye wish to say?”
“I need ye to think about what ye’re doin’.”
“I know exactly what I’m doin’. I’m marryin’ a Highlander. And he and I will inherit the castle and rule the clan when Da is gone.”
“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.
