It seemed the servants were emerging from the very walls. By the time they reached her chambers, a half-dozen maids had gathered, each carrying something—brushes, pins, garments, basins of warm water. All were eager. All were bustling with energy she couldn’t muster.
“Sit,” said the head maid in a chipper tone, patting the back of a small velvet chair.
Another maid tugged the chair closer and guided Lavina into it.
“What’s goin’ on?” Maisie whimpered from the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Come now.” The head maid turned to her with a too-sweet smile that didn’t sit well with Lavina. “Ye ken it’s yer sister’s big day. We’ve got to get her ready. She’s to be wed before the sun reaches its peak.”
Lavina sat frozen, her heart beating a heavy, hollow staccato in her chest.
“Last chance,” Stephen said as Theo adjusted his fur-lined sporran, the same one his father had worn on his wedding day.
Theo ran his fingers over the soft white fur, a silent lament rising in his chest. The sporran was here, but his parents were not.
As much as he wanted to believe they were watching over him from heaven, his rational mind knew better. There was no way they could see him now, not really.
“Is the kirk ready?” he asked, casting one last glance at his reflection in the mirror.
“Aye,” Stephen replied. “The priest is there, and Amber’s with the nuns, waitin’ for ye.”
Theo pulled in a long, deep breath and squared his shoulders. There was no turning back now. The decision had been made. And though guilt gnawed at him—tricking the poor lass into marrying him—he knew there was no other way. No womanwould willingly take him, not with the scars that marred his face like claw marks from some vengeful beast.
No, if he was ever to claim his own piece of happiness, he would have to seize it.
He cleared his throat, adjusted the tie at his neck, and locked eyes with Stephen’s reflection in the mirror.
“Go fetch me bride,” he instructed, voice low and steady. “And make sure to bring her to the kirk.”
“Ye dinnae marry for love,” the head maid sneered, narrowing her eyes at Maisie. “That’s ridiculous and childish. Something ye should have learned some time ago.”
“Pay her nay mind, Sister,” Lavina said through clenched teeth. Some people are simply nae given the luxury of choosin’ their partner—or their mate.”
“Then why would anyone marry at all? It seems to me we’d all be better off leavin’,” Maisie countered, folding her arms across her chest defiantly.
Lavina pressed her lips into a tight line. She knew why she was doing it—why she was willing to marry the beastly, murderous Laird. It was for Maisie. For her future. And there was no doubt in Lavina’s mind that she’d do it all over again if asked.
“Ye dinnae ken what ye’re speakin’ of,” she said in a firm tone.
But the truth was, Maisie wouldn’t have to worry, not if Laird McGowan kept his word and allowed her to wed whoever she pleased. Of course, the strings weren’t attached to Maisie’s ankle, but to Lavina’s. Maisie’s future rested on Lavina’s choice to wed the murderous Laird.
“Lavina, please dinnae marry him,” Maisie begged. “There’s another way. We can run away now, just dart through this realm and into the next. There are ships, ones that leave at night—we can go. Please. Ye dinnae have to do this.”
“And why nae? It’s nae like I’ve got suitors knockin’ on the door, beggin’ for me hand,” Lavina snapped. “Uncle made it clear that I’m of nay value. Why do ye think I havenae been married off already? But now… now I can make a difference. I can saveye.”
Maisie’s shoulders slumped. Her arms fell limply to her sides as she opened her mouth to speak, but a harsh knock at the chamber door cut her off. The maids rushed to answer, beaming with pride as though they’d managed to tame the emotional tempest in the room.
“Lavina?” a man called through the open door.
Lavina craned her neck, recognizing the man. He had come to speak with Theo at breakfast.
“Is she ready? The Laird’s at the kirk, waitin’.”
Lavina glanced once more at Maisie and forced a smile before stepping toward the door.
“Are ye nae goin’ to come with me?” she asked, holding out her hand to her sister.
Maisie darted to her side, blinking back the tears welling up in her eyes. “I ken Maither and Faither are in heaven, lookin’ down on ye. They’d be proud of what ye’re doin’,” she said softly.
