Highland Blessings (7 page)

Finella shrugged, stepping closer. Her figure towered over Akira lying on the bed.

“Lass, do not pretend ye don’t know how ye came to be here.”

“I only remember Bryce taking me from my family and a flood of some sort.”

Finella gasped. “Lass, ’twas no flood. Ye nearly drowned in a loch.”

Akira’s mind clouded with confusion, and it made her head hurt to think about it. “Aye, ’tis true,” she amended, trying to block out the horrifying memory.

“No need to worry. Few know of the incident or that ye’re even here,” Finella assured her, while fluffing her feather pillows.

“’Tis a secret?”

Finella’s smile turned into a frown, and her countenance grew colder than a winter’s day. “Isn’t my place to tell ye.” The woman tucked in Akira snugly and bustled out of the chamber without another word, leaving Akira to her own frustrated thoughts.

Too exhausted to evaluate her situation further, Akira drifted back to sleep.

When Akira next opened her eyes there was no one in her chamber to keep her in bed. She ignored her aching head and body as she sat up and tossed the covers aside. The sudden movement made the room spin, and she waited for it to stop. When it did, her surroundings came into focus. The bed she’d slept in looked much smaller than what she was accustomed to and the chamber half the size of hers at home. The dull brown furniture appeared to be cheaply carved from simple wood, not the sort of thing one would expect to find inside the walls of MacPhearson Castle. She noticed one small window across the chamber. Closed shutters barred the morning sunlight, casting dark shadows about her room. Evidence of a fire from the night before singed the air, and dark soot filled the fireplace.

Akira hated darkness. She stood, not realizing she had made the decision to do so, and had to fight a wave of nausea. Determined to bring in some light, she tiptoed in her bare feet across the cold stone floor. Reaching the window, she opened the shutters. Akira squinted as bold rays lit the chamber. When her eyes adjusted to the sunlight, she could see children playing and their parents tending to their daily chores out in the courtyard. A flower garden bordered the castle. At least her view was pleasant, even if her guest chamber was not.

A sudden thought made her pause in horror. What if her abduction was a plan to thwart her clan so that the MacPhearsons could attack the MacKenzies with ease? Could that be the reason why Bryce had come for her and Evan had not? Evan could have been leading the attack while she was being swept across the countryside. Fear gripped her.

Akira knew her imagination might be getting the better of her, so she did what she had been taught to do in times of trouble. She sank to her knees and bowed her head over the bed.

“Lord, I know I have had some dreadful thoughts about the MacPhearsons. Please forgive me. Right now, I’m scared and I need yer help. Please show me what to do. I admit that my temper is my worst enemy. Help me keep it under control so that life here will not be so unbearable. I pray that ye will help me find a way home. Lord, I pray for peace. Amen.”

She glanced at the door to her chamber and wondered if she were locked inside. She looked down at the white nightgown Finella must have dressed her in. If the door was unlocked, she could not very well leave the chamber dressed as she was.

Akira took small, unsteady steps to a nearby dresser, pushing aside her weakness as she slowly made her way. She ignored her parched throat. She wondered how long she’d slept and how little she had actually eaten in the last few days. If she wanted to escape, she would have to wait until her strength returned.

She spotted a brown dress and some undergarments lying on a chest by the dresser. Assuming they were for her, Akira dressed as quickly as her fatigued limbs would allow. In spite of the dizziness still plaguing her, she made it to the wash basin where she splashed cold water on her face and washed her hands and arms. Feeling more awake, Akira grabbed a comb lying on the dresser and brushed the tangles from her hair. With that task completed, she looked at her reflection in the full-length looking glass that stood in the corner of the chamber.

The brown dress resembled nothing she would have chosen for herself. The dull color lacked appeal—more akin to a servant’s garment. Not only that, but it was too short and just reached above her ankles. The material stretched across her frame and pulled lower than she preferred. Akira tugged at the cloth to pull the bodice higher. The dress ripped under her arm. Twisting this way and that, she tried to find the hole in the looking glass. Satisfied that it would not show, she stopped pulling on it, for fear of destroying the rest of the garment.

The waistline would cut off her circulation before the day was through. She sucked in her stomach and then let it out again. She didn’t have the energy to hold it in place. Akira frowned. She looked like a sick, lowly beggar. Dark circles framed her eyes in contrast to her pale skin. Maybe her unappealing appearance would disgust Evan to the point of changing his mind about their wedding.

Akira smiled with renewed hope. It was a sound plan. For the moment, she had no other recourse. She strode to the door with a confidence she didn’t feel. Her hand shook with nervousness as she firmly gripped the knob. To her surprise, it opened. She peeked out into the hallway. Seeing no one, she stepped out to begin her investigation.

“Have ye gone daft? I said I’ll not wed the wench!” Evan roared across the library. He paced anxiously in front of the fireplace. A lock of brown hair fell over his eye, and he brought a hand up, impatiently shoving it out of his way. His cheeks were flushed with anger, and his mind seemed to be searching for any excuse that Bryce would accept. “One would think ye’re the clan chief around here. Yer meddlin’ has got to stop, Bryce. ’Twould serve ye well to return her to her da and forget this foolishness.”

“Ye know as well as I do that’s now impossible. ’Tis only a matter of time before we hear from him.” Bryce sat at his desk in the corner by the window, patiently watching his brother pace back and forth in front of the blazing hearth.

Bryce struggled to control his emotions. Evan knew him well, and with one slip, he would notice Bryce questioning the sanity of his own actions. Bryce rose and leaned against the window sill, paying no heed to the surroundings below. His thoughts were on his present dilemma.

“This union won’t save a war between the clans. If anything, ’twill only serve to feed the already festering hate, while Akira and I are caught in the middle of it.”

“’Twas arranged by our da. He told me upon his death that he wanted it to be honored. I won’t fail him.” Bryce balled his fist and shook it at his brother.

“Well, then, he asked the wrong son. ’Twould not be ye who fail him, but me.”

Bryce sighed. He was growing weary of the constant arguments over the subject; neither of them had budged an inch. “Evan, please be reasonable about this.”

“I’ll not waste my life on that wench. And I certainly won’t wed her.” Evan’s voice carried through the library.

“And I wouldn’t waste a precious day on a MacPhearson.”

Bryce and his brother turned toward the entrance where Akira stood in a weakened state, holding onto the door for support, but her burning eyes were defiant. She had spoken with quiet precision and force.

“I’m relieved to know our feelings are mutual.” Evan finally recovered from his shock at being overheard.

“Since we both feel the same, I’m certain we can come to some kind of an agreement.” Akira’s voice was full of resolve as she prepared to bargain for her freedom.

“Let the negotiations begin,” Evan said, rubbing his hands together, eager to escape the trap Bryce had set for him.

“Nay,” Bryce cut in, frowning. “The two of ye will honor the betrothal as our fathers deemed appropriate.”

“If ye recall, my da was wedding me to Gregor when ye abruptly snatched me away. I wouldn’t agree that he still feels this match is necessary.”

“Evidently, the love of yer life didn’t feel the same way. I’ve asked this before—where was he when I came? ’Tis him I should have had to hit, not yer brother.”

Akira ignored him, determined to steer the conversation back to her escape. “To what lengths would ye go to make me wed Evan? Would ye have me brutalized?” She stepped forward, apparently growing braver by the minute.

“’Twould be no need,” Bryce informed her sternly, his gaze slipping down to her bare feet and noticing her delicate toes.

“Would ye use threats?”

Reluctantly, he answered, “Again, there would be no need.”

“How then, do ye intend to convince me to agree to the vows?” The frustration in her voice indicated that she couldn’t imagine what he planned. She stole a glance at Evan, who appeared to be just as curious as she. He watched Bryce’s reaction with interest.

“I’ll keep ye both guessing. In the meantime, keep up the effort of yer protests though they be in vain.” His gaze darted from Akira to Evan.

“Ye fool!” Akira shouted. Her face turned a bright pink as her anger flared. Both Evan and Bryce were momentarily stunned by her outburst. “Ye’re so bent on preventing war, and so daft ye canna see that ye’ll be the cause of it.” She strode to him, breathing heavily from her anger and weakness. “Because of what ye’ve done, my father will be forced to take action.”

“But not in war. I’ve a written agreement that he signed yer betrothal. The MacPhearsons had a legal right to stop that wedding. I’m sorry, lass, but he will have to agree to negotiations,” Bryce informed her.

“He’ll never agree to wed me to a MacPhearson, not when he has a written letter from Evan saying he would not honor the betrothal,” she persisted.

“He’ll have no choice, for we will agree to naught else.” Bryce crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to be distracted by her weakness.

Akira reached out as if seeking support. “How dare—”

Bryce knew the moment she would faint. He reached for her, making sure she fell safely in his arms. He swept her up and carried her from the library. She felt soft and light in his arms as he climbed the stairs. What had she been thinking, rising out of bed so soon? Where was Finella? He gently laid Akira on the small bed in her chamber.

“Will she be all right?” Evan asked behind him. Bryce glanced over his shoulder at his brother’s concerned frown, unaware until that moment that Evan had even followed.

“Aye, she’s weak from the fever and lack of nourishment. The fool woman knew better than to get out of bed. Where in the world did she get that inappropriate dress? We’ll have to see that she’s properly attired. She looks like a serving wench in that thing. And shoes? Couldn’t Finella at least find her some shoes?”

“I dunno.” Evan bent over her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Too bad she’s a MacKenzie. After meeting her, I kind of like her spirit.”

Bryce glared at his brother and turned away. It was what he’d wanted. If Evan grew fond of her, then it would be easier for Bryce to keep his promise to his father and maybe they would finally achieve peace by joining their two families. He glanced at her still form. Akira’s face was delicately carved with a depth of strength. Her lush hair framed her face in thick folds on the white, feathered pillow. Her lips were the color of dark rose and fully rounded. When awake her jade eyes were like fire, lighting darkness and drawing one to their warmth. He cleared his mind.

“Have Finella come to her. She’ll know what to do with the lass,” Bryce suggested.