Lance felt the earth shaking beneath him, and heard his squire’s voice calling out his name. He slowly opened one eye and then the other, having to use his hand to shade his face because a bright light almost blinded him.

“Hold that torch somewhere else, Jack. You are blinding me.”

“My lord, I don’t have a torch. That is the sun,” his squire informed him.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s nighttime. There is no sun.” He pushed up to a sitting position to find himself sitting in the wagon in the courtyard of Liddel Castle. And to his astonishment, it was the middle of the day. “How did we get here so fast? Wait. Why is there sun?” He rubbed his aching head, trying to think.

“You’ve been asleep for nearly a day now,” Jack told him. “We weren’t able to wake you when we stopped for the night, and I’m surprised I was able to rouse you at all.”

“Argh, it was that blasted Mountain Magic. The stinking Scots tricked me into drinking it, knowing what it would do to me.” He swung his legs over the back of the open wagon, sitting on the edge.

“The Scots warned ye about the whisky. Do no’ blame yer reckless actions on them,” said Coira.

His head snapped around to see his new wife getting down from the front of the cart and helping her handmaid do the same. God’s eyes, he almost forgot he was now a married man.

He cleared his throat and stood up, still feeling dizzy. “Coira, how do you like your new home?” He stretched out his arm, proud of his new castle, thinking it would impress her. Instead, a shadow covered her face and she clung tightly to the arm of the old gypsy.

Coira looked up to see the walls of her prison from six years ago, and she immediately found herself living in the past. This is where she’d almost died. It was almost as if she could still hear the laughter of Lord Ralston and his men as they tortured her and Effie. This is the last place she ever wanted to be!

“Coira, your husband is talking to you,” said Zara, nudging her in the side.

“Zara, I canna live her,” she whispered, clamping her fingers around the old woman’s arm. “It’s as if I have stepped back in time. There are too many horrible memories within these walls.”

“Get a hold of yourself, Child. Leave the past in the past. This is your home now, and you need to make the best of it.” Zara pried Coira’s fingers from her arm.

“Wife, what is the matter?” Lance looked at her as if she were daft.

She jumped when he took her by the arm. When she glanced up at his face, her eyes played a trick on her. For a moment, she thought it was Lord Ralston coming to accost her.

“Nay! Leave me alone,” she cried, pulling out of his grip and backing away. Her heart pounded in her chest and sweat beaded her brow.

“Stop it,” Lance commanded, running a weary hand through his hair. “My head hurts like the devil, and I don’t need you acting all squirrely on me.”

“Perhaps if you’d ask her why she’s afraid, you’d understand, my lord,” said Zara.

“Afraid? Coira, are you afraid of me?” He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head.

“I . . . I . . . nay, my lord.” Coira lowered her head, feeling ashamed of her reaction. Still, her body shook with fear.

“I think what we all need is a good meal and a tankard of ale,” said Lance, yawning at the end of his sentence. “Come. We’ll go to the great hall.”

Coira let him lead her away, glancing back to Zara, silently begging her to follow and not leave her alone with the man.

“Go on, Coira. I’ll make sure our things get to our bedchamber.” Zara nodded and waved her hand through the air.

“Jack, take my wife’s things to my solar,” Lance called over his shoulder. “She’ll be staying with me now that we’re married.”

“But – but my handmaid,” said Coira, terrified of thinking of spending the night alone with the man. He was a stranger to her even though they were married. Coira’s head filled with all sorts of thoughts, every one of them being that she had made a mistake by agreeing to this alliance.

“The gypsy – Zara,” said Lance, stressing her name, “can sleep in any of the empty rooms she chooses. But you are my wife, and I don’t want anyone else in my bedchamber but you.”

“Aye, my lord,” said Coira, since she didn’t have a choice.

“The reason I was late to the wedding was that I wanted to clean up the surroundings of my new castle,” he explained. “It looked like a battle had taken place here, and everything was so disheveled.”

“Ye have no idea how right ye are.” Coira took a deep breath and released it, remembering when Aidan had come to this courtyard to help Effie and her escape. It was as if the stones in the walls of the castle could talk and she heard every voice from the past echoing in her head at once. She stopped and closed her eyes, willing the bad memories to leave her.

“Ah, I see you must be feeling the effects of the Mountain Magic as well,” said Lance. “Come, Coira, we will have something to eat and then we will retire early to the bedchamber.”

“The – the bedchamber?” asked Coira, looking over her shoulder for Zara for strength. Zara was talking with Lance’s squire, showing him which bags were hers and which ones were Coira’s.

“My lord, you’ve returned.” A man approached and bowed his head.

“Godfrey, this is my new wife, Coira,” said Lance.

“My lady.” Godfrey bowed to her as well. He was a tall man with blond hair, about the same age as her husband.

“Och, I’m no’ a lady,” said Coira, being taken by surprise.

“Aye, you are, now that you are married to me.” Lance reached up and tenderly caressed her cheek. Then he looked at his hand, lowered it and tried to wipe off the dirt on his tunic. “Godfrey is my steward,” he told Coira. “Godfrey, see to it that the meal is served anon. And I want a hot bath sent to my bedchamber afterward. I cannot take my new bride to the wedding bed while I am caked with dirt.”

“Or smelling like whisky,” mumbled Zara, walking past them with a canvas bag in her hands. Jack was right behind her, carrying Coira’s trunk that held some of her things as well as cloth and spices that were part of her dowry.

“I think I could use some ale,” Coira interrupted, not wanting her new husband to become angry with Zara.

“Aye. I think we all can use some.” Lance led her to the dais and pulled out the chair for her to sit. No one had ever done this for her before.

“Thank ye,” she said, looking up at Lance as she sat down. When his blue eyes met hers, she quickly looked away. How was she going to consummate the marriage when she couldn’t even look into his eyes? She wished she were anywhere other than Liddel Castle and, mayhap then, she’d have the courage she needed.

The food was served faster than she expected. The hall filled up with Lance’s men, servants, and even an occasional lady that was married to one of the knights. Coira spied Zara sitting at one of the long tables closest to the kitchen. She conversed with Jack and some of the others while she ate. Coira tried to get her attention, but she wasn’t looking in her direction.

“Is there something more interesting across the hall than there is right here?” Lance asked, making her jump in her seat.

“Nay, my lord.” She looked down to her trencher and pushed her food around with her spoon.

“Tell me about yourself, Coira.”

“Me?” She glanced up at him and then back over to Zara. She had a hard time talking to men in general. Now that she was married to a stranger, it only caused more anxiety. Why couldn’t she be brave and outgoing like her sister, Effie?

“What is it you’re afraid of? Is it me?” He brought the tankard up to his mouth to take a drink and perused her over the rim.

How could she tell him it wasn’t only him but so much more? She found herself tongue-tied, not wanting to talk about her past experiences at Liddel Castle. Instead, she decided to talk about him.

“I dinna ken ye, and yet we are married. Aye, that scares me . . . as well as other things, my lord.”

“Don’t be frightened.” His hand covered hers, sharing his warmth. When she quickly glanced up at him, she saw him smiling down at her. “I assure you, in time you will feel comfortable here.”

“I dinna think so.” Coira pulled her hand away from his and picked up her goblet to drink. She was afraid he was going to ask her more questions and wanted this night over with quickly. A man came into the great hall with several dogs following him. He was short and looked jolly. A smile covered his face.

“Ah, there’s my kennelgroom with my hounds.”

“Hounds?” She looked up to see half a dozen dogs enter the room, followed by a scraggly, brown dog that was smaller than the rest.

“Seth, bring my hounds to me, here at the dais,” commanded Lance.

“Aye, my lord.” The man brought the dogs to the table. The animals crowded around Lance, wagging their tails and whining.

“Here you are.” Lance took several hunks of meat from the tray, giving one to each dog. The hounds took their treasures and ran away to eat them. All of them left except for one smaller, brown dog that put its paws on Lance’s leg, looking up and sniffing the table. The hound had a stub of a tail, but it wagged back and forth excitedly. “Nay. Get down,” he said, swiping at the dog.

Coira loved animals of all kinds and didn’t like the way Lance treated this dog.

“Why do ye feed the other dogs and no’ this one?” she asked, reaching out and running her hand over the dog’s head to calm it.

“That is a stray dog. The thing is skinny and scraggly and look – it doesn’t even have a tail.” Lance scooped up some food and shoved it into his mouth. “I told Seth to get rid of it. I don’t know why it’s still here.”

“Get rid of it? Nay!” Coira pulled the dog over to her, bending down and kissing it on its head. “She is such a sweet pup.”

“She’s not a puppy, or at least I don’t believe so. She was found roaming the courtyard when I inherited this castle.”

“Why dinna ye take her in? One more dog willna make a difference.”

“Nay.” He picked up his tankard and took a drink. “She’s too small and no good for hunting. She’ll just be a hindrance. I’ll have Seth get rid of her since she is bothering you.” He raised his hand to call over his kennelgroom.

“Nay! I dinna want ye to get rid of the poor thing.” Coira pulled the dog closer to protect it.

“Coira, it’s just a stray hound.”

“Please, Lance. Dinna send it away.”

Lance drank in the sight of his new wife protecting the mangy mutt. They both looked so frightened that it about broke his heart. Coira was a beautiful girl. A Scottish lassie. Dressed in her Scottish plaid, he still didn’t feel as if any of this were real. He was married now. It all happened so quickly. She didn’t seem to like him much, or the idea of getting rid of the dog. It was important to him that she feel comfortable around him, so he would do whatever it took. He didn’t want his wife to fear him.

“So sorry, my lord,” said Seth, climbing the dais and reaching for the dog. “I’ll remove the pesky hound anon.”

“Nay,” said Lance with a wave of his hand. Coira looked up, still clinging tightly to the mutt. Hope as well as fear emanated from her.

“My lord?” asked Seth in confusion. “I thought you wanted me to remove the stray.”

“I’ve had a change of mind,” Lance told him. “The hound will be my wife’s dog from now on.”

“My lord?” Coira looked up with question in her beautiful, hazel eyes. “What are ye sayin’?”

“I’m saying that the hound is my wedding present to you, Coira. I can see how much you like the dog and I want you to have it.”

“Thank ye.” A smile lit up her beautiful face, her eyes going from the icy stare she gave him a minute ago to soft, multi-colored pools of sincere gratitude. He’d finally made her happy, and it was over a damned stray dog.

“What will you name it?” he asked, if for no other reason than to make conversation with his new wife. He liked the sound of her sweet voice and her cute, little Scottish burr.

“I dinna ken yet,” she said, petting the dog as it licked her face. She giggled. The sound of her laugh made him happy.

They finished the meal. When he was tired of the dog getting more attention from Coira than he was getting, he raised his drinking vessel in the air. “A toast to my new wife, Coira,” he said. A cheer went up from the crowd as they all drank to the marriage.

“Minstrels, start up the music,” he called out, taking Coira by the hand and helping her out of her chair. “You will dance with me,” he said, hurrying down to the middle of the floor and taking her with him. The dog ran after them, barking and jumping.

“My lord, I dinna think I want to dance.”

“Nonsense,” he said, holding her arm and walking her around the floor, letting everyone get a good look at his new Scottish bride.

“I dinna ken the dance of the English.”

“There is nothing to it. Just follow my lead.” They danced for a short while, but he could see that Coira was a shy girl and didn’t like everyone watching her. He decided it would be best to let her get used to her new surroundings slowly instead. “That is enough,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the corridor.

“Where are we goin’?” she asked.

“It is time to take you to the marriage bed.” As he led her to his solar, he couldn’t help but notice the fear in her eyes return.