Page 20 of Bride of the Merciless Laird
After splashing herself with warm water and drying herself on the linen towel, she dressed. Glancing at her reflection in the looking glass she was suddenly painfully aware that her attire – although warm and practical – was both dreary and unflattering. She turned to and fro, disappointed by her appearance from every angle.
Fashion had always been one of her delights, especially, the designs from Italy with bright colors and rich fabrics which always captured her fancy. She’d set aside her vanity when it was decided she was to spend the coming months among the nuns at Pluscarden. Under her instruction, the seamstress at Scorrybreac had made her several gowns befitting her coming life of simplicity and contemplation among the nuns. All finery was foregone, replaced by loose-fitting woolen garments in dull greys and browns. Now she regarded herself as a drab little sparrow in comparison to Isla with her glossy dark hair, clad in the jewel-like blue gown she had worn the day before.
By the time Tyra had brushed out her hair and carefully braided it, she was prepared for the meeting with Laird Ewan. Her mind was made up to accept his proposal, yet she wished to discuss certain conditions with him before he sent a formal message to her brother.
When she heard the church bells ringing the ten o’clock Angelus she rose to her feet, her heart pounding like a blacksmith’s hammer. Throwing on her plaid cloak, she made for the door.
She paused, eyes closed, fingering her rosary, to breathe a short prayer asking for strength to see her decision through and to face Laird Ewan with composure and determination.
Once outside her chamber she had no idea where to find the study and requested a passing chamber maid to direct her there. The lass, accompanied her to the Laird’s study, bobbing a quick curtsy before leaving her.
Tyra took three breaths to steady herself and rapped loudly on the heavy studded door.
In an instant it was flung wide and Ewan stood there, looking quite magnificent in his great kilt, his crisp white linen shirt and fur vest.
“Me greetings tae ye, lass.” He stood back, gesturing for her to enter.
She moved into the study, awed by the towering shelves lining the walls containing roll after roll of parchment and several huge tomes.
“Please sit.” He directed her to a timber chair beside a small table. Once she was settled there, he took the adjoining seat.
“I trust ye slept comfortably?”
She glanced up at him from beneath her long lashes, tempted to remark that she could hardly be expected to sleep well when there was a momentous decision swimming in her mind. Instead, she murmured, “Indeed. I enjoyed a peaceful sleep.”
He wasted no time in moving quickly to the issue at hand.
“And dae ye have an answer tae me proposal, lass?”
For an instant she could have sworn he looked anxious, a shadow passing across his face, his eyes flickering, and his lips tightened. But then he schooled his features into a warm smile, his blue eyes shining and any hint of discomfort vanished.
“Aye. I have thought long and hard about what ye’ve proposed.” She plucked nervously at her skirt, shaken by what she was saying. “I accept the proposal as long as me few conditions are met.”
He got to his feet and stepped to the hearth, stoking the logs, causing the flames to leap higher. Swiveling to face her, he went on. “Please continue.”
She straightened her spine and lifted her chin, summoning her confidence.
“Once it is agreed by me braither and yer Council that we are tae wed, I require from ye yer solemn word that ye will ne’er allow yerself tae be seen wi’ any lass other than meself, even if ours is a marriage in name only.” She took a deep breath and huffed it out, looking him in the eye. She saw nothing there but compassion and something that could have been admiration.
“Of course, ye have me word on that. Yet, forgive me curiosity, Lady Tyra, but has there been an occasion when ye were mistreated in some way?”
She shook her head, having no intention of revealing to him the many occasions when Harris MacDonald had shown herdisrespect and the humiliation he’d heaped upon her with his callous and unfeeling manner.
“’Tis nae something I wish tae discuss, Laird Mackenzie.”
Ewan nodded.
“Me Council have been called tae meet later in the day. Once I have secured their approval, I shall write tae yer braither, Laird Edmund, appraising him of yer present circumstances. I will request his permission fer our marriage and tae negotiate arèiteachtae formalize our betrothal. Meanwhile, as me guest, while we await an answer from yer braither, please feel free tae treat this place as ye would yer own home on the Isle of Skye.”
“Thank ye.” She rose to her feet. “I shall take me leave and await yer further advice.”
He stood and accompanied her to the door.
“Please.” He placed a hand on her arm. She turned to him and their eyes met for the briefest instant.
And there it was, that instantaneous connection flashing between them.
“If ye have a change of heart while we await news from Laird Edmund and decide that ye have nae wish tae wed, I will accept yer decision without demurring.”
