The Highlander's Runaway Bride

Turning the corner, he strode down the corridor and out the doorway that led to the yard. He needed some fresh air to clear his head and think on this matter. Rob did not doubt that Brodie would have his back in this and, if Rob refused outright, Brodie would accept it. But, meeting the gaze of Arabella and saying no would be another thing.

Rob had watched as she, once their enemy, had first given Brodie back his soul and then helped to save their clan. In spite of the long history of hatred and mistrust between the Mackintoshes and the Camerons, Arabella had accomplished what many had thought impossible and, more than that, she’d saved Rob’s closest friend.

If truth be told, Rob knew he would have to come up with a strong objection to allow himself to refuse this arrangement. He let out a breath and looked around. Somehow his feet had taken him into the village, and he stood before his sister’s cottage.

Brodie had said that Margaret approved the match. Rob suspected that she would be in support of any arrangement that ended with him married. She’d long decried his bachelorhood and had tried her own hand at matchmaking, but he’d resisted. She was probably chortling with glee over his situation now.

‘Margaret?’ he said, knocking on the door frame. ‘Are you within?’ She called out to him.

Leaning down to enter, he watched as Margaret put a pile of clothing aside and stood to greet him. She was always busy, her hands never idle or empty. And though her husband was gone, she worked more now than when he was alive, taking in the strays and the lost and the injured, seeing to their care until they could move on. Just as she had in their mountain camp during their months and months of exile and outlawry.

‘Ah, Robbie...’ She clutched his shoulders and drew him down for a kiss. ‘You have been a busy man.’

‘Is that your way of saying I do not see you often enough?’ Rob asked as he stepped back. She smiled and nodded.

‘Well, now that you are such an important man, seeing to the chieftain’s business and travelling so much, I understand.’ Rob narrowed his gaze and watched for signs that she was teasing him.

‘Aye, Margaret,’ he said as he finally recognised the tiny lines at the edge of her eyes as humour. ‘I am so important.’

‘Truly, Rob, are you well?’ she asked, concern filling her tone. Before he could answer, a knock came on the door and it was pulled open.

‘Margaret? Are you here, lass?’

A man who called his widowed sister lass? Rob turned to see who this man was and was shocked when Magnus, one of the warriors, ducked low and entered. From the man’s startled expression, he did not expect Rob to be here. The glances that passed between Magnus and his sister told Rob the answer to the question he’d not yet voiced.

‘Aye, Magnus,’ Margaret said, walking to the door and the man. The blush in her cheeks both surprised and pleased him in some way. Though he would never have thought of this, clearly there was something more than simple kinship between the two. ‘Rob just arrived.’

‘Rob,’ Magnus said, holding out his hand in greeting. ‘How goes it?’

‘Well, Magnus,’ he answered, accepting the man’s hand. ‘What brings you here?’ he asked, even knowing ’twas neither his right nor his place to ask such a thing.

‘I help your sister from time to time with the heavier tasks at hand,’ Magnus explained. His voice grew gruff and Margaret’s face grew redder. Heavier tasks, his arse! ‘With you being off, seeing to Brodie’s business, I stop by when I can.’ Margaret looked near to choking or exploding, Rob could not decide which, so he took pity on her.

‘I am glad you are here to aid her, Magnus. Especially when I cannot be,’ Rob said.

He meant it. Though from their actions, the shy glances shared between them and their nervousness, Rob understood the relationship that was growing. Margaret’s healing skills had saved Magnus’s life during their exile, and the two had spent much time together.

If it pleased his sister to have this man close at her side, then it pleased him. She did not need his approval to marry again or to take a man to her bed. If she found some joy after the bitter loss of her husband, Rob would not deny or question her. The air around them grew tense, and he felt the odd one here and knew he should go. But first...

‘Speaking of my travels, Magnus, Brodie has offered my hand in marriage.’

‘’Tis about time for that, Rob,’ Margaret said, laughing and pulling him back into a hug. Magnus stepped aside to let her close. ‘I had given up any hope of my efforts working to see you matched.’ She let him go but kept her hand on his arm. ‘So who is the lass?’

The snort he let out was unexpected, as were her words. Margaret had given no approval. Hell, she had not even known of the offer. Brodie would pay for this.

‘A MacKay from the north. Brodie wishes our clans joined, and I seem to be the eligible kinsman to be offered to the slaughter.’

He did not need to see her wince to hear the bitterness in his own voice. If this match did happen, he should not want his resistance whispered around. Margaret leaned in close then.

‘Mayhap this is for the best, Rob? Brodie would not ask someone he did not trust to do something as important as this.’

Rob nodded. ‘Aye, you have it right, Margaret. I had just hoped...’

He paused, not knowing how to explain his feelings to her. Men and women looked at this from different perspectives and, since her marriage—one that resulted in a deep love—had been an arranged one, she would likely not do anything but support it. Some noise outside caught his attention and gave him the excuse he needed to leave.

‘I must see to packing for the journey,’ he said. Kissing his sister, he nodded at Magnus and then could not stop himself from a wee tease. ‘Have a care with those heavy tasks, Magnus. A man could find himself confined to a bed easily if they are not done well.’

Rob walked out quickly then, but not without hearing Margaret’s sputtered curse and Magnus’s deep and hearty laughter. It did his heart good to know that Margaret had found joy again and that Magnus would be there for her.

* * *

The rest of the day passed quickly, too quickly for his taste, as he saw to his duties that involved training the warriors. Fighting at Brodie’s side over the past years had honed his skills with weapons and strategies, and he enjoyed this part of his duties the most.

Then, he gave Brodie, and Arabella, his answer at dinner.

Brodie’s reaction was exactly what he expected it to be—a knowing nod of his head and a satisfied expression in his gaze. Arabella, well, Arabella jumped up and ran to him, throwing her arms around him and clutching him close, regardless of her ever-expanding girth.

‘I am glad, Rob,’ she said, wiping at her eyes as she released him. ‘I want you to be happy in this. I pray you will find the MacKay girl to your liking and you will be happy.’

Any desire to argue or correct her dissipated at Brodie’s approach. The look in his eyes now promised retribution and pain if Rob dared ruin Brodie’s wife’s happiness in this matter. Having been at the wrong end of Brodie’s anger more than once, Rob decided to allow her to believe the optimism in her words and he just nodded.

‘When will you leave?’ Brodie asked, as he guided Arabella back to her chair.

‘In a day or two. I have some things to see to before I leave.’

‘How many will you take?’

Rob inhaled and let it out before answering his laird. He’d thought on this all day while finishing up some tasks. If this failed, he wanted no one to witness it. Whether Brodie would agree was another matter.

‘I go alone.’

Silence greeted his words for several long seconds. He met Brodie’s stare, waiting as his friend thought on his answer.

‘I would rather you take at least a small number of men with you,’ he said. ‘But you will be travelling through lands held by allies or kin and can defend yourself,’ Brodie agreed. ‘How long will you take?’

‘If the weather holds, no more than a fortnight to get there and another to get back. I will stay there as long as it takes,’ he said.

‘Rob...’ Brodie began. Rob held up his hand to forestall his friend.

‘I am at peace with this, Brodie. If I cannot tolerate the woman or have some strong objection, I will speak my mind to you.’ Brodie smiled and nodded. ‘I am at peace,’ he repeated, ‘but not happy at all.’

Accepting more wine in his cup from a passing servant, Rob drank it down in one swallow. He’d been truthful with Brodie—if there was something wrong with the lass, he would refuse. If there was some impediment or other reason, he would refuse. And if there was none, he would have to accept her.

* * *

As he mounted his horse and gathered the reins of the packhorse in his hand two days later, Rob rode out of Drumlui Keep, knowing that he would be a different man when he returned.

A married man, for better or worse.