“I ken. And once I’m married to Laird McGowan, he’ll never be able to touch us again.”
Maisie’s hand shot out and grabbed Lavina’s tightly. “Come again? Since when are ye engaged?”
“A few hours now. Ye’ve been restin’, and now that ye’re up… I need ye to be there with me,” Lavina said, the weight of her decision settling on her shoulders like stones.
“Are ye sure this is what yewantto do?” Maisie asked, her voice trembling.
“It’s theonlychoice,” Lavina emphasized.
Maisie’s grip tightened as she sat up in bed, clearly distressed. “Look at me,” she began, throwing her legs off the bed. “Ye cannae do this. Ye dinnae understand?—”
“Idounderstand,” Lavina interrupted. “Maisie, this is the only way to save us.”
She stood up, her voice rising with emotion.
“Ye ken how determined our uncle can be when he wants something. And what he wants now isye.” She took a step back. “I’m hopin’ he’s gone south, but most likely, his men have gone ineverydirection. Our only chance is to change our names, and the only way to do that is through marriage.”
Maisie stared at her, stricken.
“The Laird’s guaranteed yer safety and mine, so long as I give him me hand,” Lavina continued. “If I refused, he would’ve cast us out hours ago, and ye would’ve likely been six feet under by now.”
Maisie’s shoulders slumped, as though the whole world had crashed down on them. She turned to look into the fire, silent for a long while.
“Just hear me out,” she said eventually. “We could travel to the Americas. Uncle’s reach would never stretch that far.”
“Ye’d be surprised,” Lavina mumbled.
She looked down at her hands. “But Clan McGowan’s the one place Micah willnae think to look. We’ll be safe here.”
Maisie turned back to her. “And what aboutlove? I cannae let ye ruin yer future forme.”
“If I dinnae,” Lavina said quietly, “we’ll have nay future.”
A long silence fell between them.
“I’m marryin’ the Laird. The preparations are already underway.”
“When?” Maisie asked, her voice breaking.
Lavina slowly raised her eyes to her sister’s, her breath shaky as she forced the words out. “I’m to be wed in the morning.”
CHAPTER SIX
Lavina stirred as the morning sun hit her face. Her eyes focused slowly on the wooden ceiling above. She studied the way the grain twisted and curled—it reminded her of water flowing down a stream.
With a weary sigh, she slipped carefully out of bed. Maisie stirred beside her, murmuring in her sleep and clutching the pillow to her chest.
Lavina didn’t have it in her to stay any longer. Enough tears had been shed over the days behind them, and now there was nothing left. She felt hollowed out, like a gourd scraped clean of its insides.
Pulling her cloak around her shoulders, she padded softly down the hall and into the kitchen.
“What are ye doin’ here, miss?” the cook gasped the moment she stepped through the door. “Ye cannae be in here! Ye shouldbe upstairs, gettin’ yerself ready for the Laird! Ye’re to wed in a matter of hours!”
Before Lavina could protest—or even swipe a scone from the bowl—she was promptly ushered out of the kitchen and down the corridor.
“So, ye’re to be the lady of the castle then,” one of the maids said briskly, walking beside her with purpose. “Well, there’s a lot ye’ll need to ken about the Laird and how he likes things to be run. He keeps a tight ship, and I expect he’ll want ye to do the same.”
Lavina nodded numbly as they moved quickly through the corridors.
