A Beautiful Lie (The Camaraes) (8 page)

Bad.  He decided swiftly, from the expression on Ewan
’
s tired face, definitely bad.

“
Muira told me what you did.
”

“
Thank God,
”
Lachlan sagged with relief.

Ewan shot him one, very strange, stare and then continued. 
“
She
’
s also begged us to spare your life.
”

“
All right,
”
Lachlan said slowly.  Something about this wasn
’
t sitting quite right
…
if Muira had told her brother
’
s how he
’
d saved her then why was his life still-

“
We took some convincing I can assure you,
”
Ewan growled. 
“
And if you lay so much as a finger on her again I
’
ll-
”

“
What-
”
Lachlan interrupted, his blood suddenly turning to ice his veins.  His thoughts turned slowly over in his head. 
“
What exactly did she say, Cameron?
”
he asked, but Ewan simply scowled, so furiously that Lachlan braced his bruised and broken body for another beating.  Ewan somehow managed to restrain himself however.

“
I
’
m here to tell you that there are two ways that you
’
re walking out of this cell, MacRae,
”
he spat, as if every single word was offensive to him.  Lachlan knew better than to interrupt. 
“
As a dead man,
”
he paused,
“
or as my sister fianc
é
.
”

“
What?
”
Lachlan choked.

Ewan ignored him. 
“
Now I don
’
t know how my sister can stomach the thought of letting you within a hundred feet of her, but luckily for you, apparently she can.
”
  He smiled nastily. 
“
If that changes, I
’
ve told her to let me know immediately.
”

“
I didn
’
t touch-
”
Lachlan began furiously, but Ewan once again continued as if he hadn
’
t spoken.

“
Our Laird has given his reluctant blessing to the union.  He knows how highly you
’
re regarded by your own Laird and doesn
’
t want to provoke outright war between our two clans,
”
Ewan snorted.

“
Cameron!  I
’
m telling you-
”

“
And I
’
m telling you!
”
Ewan snarled, actually acknowledging Lachlan for the first time in several minutes. 
“
Two ways, MacRae,
”
he spat, holding up two fingers and then pointed towards the door. 
“
Now tell me, which way is it going to be?
”

There had, of course, been only one answer that Lachlan could give
–
he
’
d known it, Ewan had known it, Muira must have known it too. 

What the
hell
was the woman playing at?  Lachlan fumed.  He was still in his cell.  Ewan had told him that the dingy, dark space was to be his permanent residence until he and Muira exchanged their vows.  Lachlan
hadn
’
t
been told when that was going to be.  A corner of his mind still wondered if this was all part of some elaborate plot of the Camerons to torment him.  He couldn
’
t believe that it was real!  That the pretty little thing he
’
d plucked off the roadside could be this cold and calculating! 

Lachlan
’
s only hope of salvation appeared to him to be to somehow get word back to his own clan, but that seemed to be an impossible feat
…

..ooOOoo..

He
’
d said yes.  Muira couldn
’
t believe that he
’
d said yes!
 
She couldn
’
t believe that she was getting away with this lie.  She wouldn
’
t-
couldn
’
t
get away with it forever, however.  She felt almost constantly sick, because there was one person who knew for a fact that she had spun the most deceitful tale, and another who knew that at least half of it was lies: Lachlan and Tavish.

She knew Tavish.  She knew how he might try and take revenge, but Lachlan?  He was a complete mystery, a virtual stranger, and she had just orchestrated to bind herself to him eternally! 
Why
had she done that? 
What
had possessed her, because he
’
d been kind to her, because he
’
d bound her ankle, and saved her from Tavish? 

What must he be thinking?  Muira worried.  He would be furious.  He had every right to be furious, but how would Lachlan
’
s fury present itself?  He was a MacRae.  She hadn
’
t even let herself consider how many difficulties that would create, but now that she paused to think, all she had ever heard about the MacRae
’
s was that they were violent and brutish
…
and she was going to marry one?

“
Muira?
”
Cait
’
s hesitant voice broke through her reflections.  She glanced up at her friend, from where she was sitting by the fire in her room, and raised a questioning eyebrow. 
“
Your aunt wants to fit you for your dress now.
”

“
My dress?
”
Muira frowned.  She had a dress that was all but finished.  It had been the dress she should have worn to marry Tavish
…
it had been
beautiful
, but she had assumed that it would no longer be suitable.

“
Your wedding dress,
”
Cait nodded sadly.

“
But-
”
Muira blushed and looked down at her lap. 
“
My wedding dress is white,
”
she whispered.  Cait nodded her head again, still looking miserable. 
“
It
’
s a different dress, isn
’
t it?
”
Muira sighed regretfully, and then she made herself force a smile. 
“
Well, maybe you
’
ll be able to use the old one?
”

Cait snorted, but looked cheered by Muira
’
s attempt to brighten up. 
“
As if I
’
d ever have occasion to wear it,
”
she said wistfully. 

Muira rolled her eyes behind her friend
’
s back, and then followed her through the castle to her aunt
’
s sitting room.  Across one of the chairs was an old velvet dress.  Green in colour, and beginning to show hints its age.  Muira
’
s heart sank.  She knew that it was the very least of her worries, but she had wanted to look like a princess on her wedding day.

“
Ah Muira,
”
Lady Cameron said, her old eyes awash with sadness when she looked over at her beloved niece. 

Muira felt her guilt redouble under the worried, motherly gaze.  She was hurting the people she loved the most, and just because she was too much of a coward to endure a life with Tavish
–
a life that she had chosen!  It was such a terrible mess. 

“
Just step up on this stool would you dear?
”
Lady Cameron nodded towards a stool that had been placed in the centre of the room. 
“
Bessie could have fixed this- but well- I wanted to do this for you myself,
”
she said softly, picking up the dress and gently tugging it over Muira
’
s head. 
“
Cait, would you fetch my pins?
”