An hour later, the healer arrived at Mary’s door. “I came to tell ye I took yer Da some willow bark tea. He seemed well enough. If ye are still concerned, perhaps ye should go speak with him.”

“I’ll do that, and thank ye.”

The healer nodded and left her.

Mary pulled a warm shawl around her shoulders and made her way through the dim hallway down the stairs to his solar. The door was open, so she went inside. The low flames in the hearth illuminated her father bent over a document, seemingly unaware of her arrival. A lantern on the desk threw light on whatever he read.

“Da? Are ye well?”

He glanced up. “Aye, well enough. The healer just left, as I’m sure ye ken fine.”

Mary smiled and moved forward. “Is yer headache better?”

Her father gazed off into the distance for a moment, then nodded. “Aye, it is.”

“Ye are welcome, then.”

He answered with a snort.

Mary peered at the document on the desk, but she could not read it upside down. “Is that the betrothal agreement?”

Her father sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Aye.”

“There’s something I dinna understand,” Mary told him, taking a seat across from him. “Ye seem to be great friends with Lady Grant.”

“So why no’ wed with her? That is what ye are asking, aye? At her age, if she even managed to get with child, do ye think she could carry it?”

“I’m no’ daft…”

“Just answer the question.”

So she and Cameron had been right. Mary shook her head. “Likely she couldna.”

“Or survive birthing it?”

Mary shrugged. “’Tis hard to say, Da, but likely no’.”

“Exactly.” He waved a hand. “She’ll never give me the son I need. But her daughter can.”

“Are ye certain naught else going on here? Why would she willingly give her daughter to a man so much older than the lass? Do ye no’ think Lady Grant has a goal of her own in mind?”

“I’m no’ in my grave yet, daughter. And her goal? Besides making an advantageous marriage for her mouse of a daughter, ye mean?”

Mary couldn’t disagree with his characterization of his betrothed. “So ye are willing to live the rest of yer days with that ‘mouse’ as ye call her. And to have her care for yer clan and its people?”

“Only if she gives me sons. She’ll have time to learn our ways. If she does no’ produce an heir, I’ll set her aside and try again elsewhere.”

“Da!” Mary clenched her fists, outraged, even if she didn’t particularly like Seona. She couldn’t believe her father would be so cruel.

“Dinna screech at me, daughter. There’s no’ a man in Rose fit to be chief after me, and ye are still unwed…”

She spread her hands, palms up. “And whose fault is that? If ye’ll recall, I had a suitor. Dougal…”

“No’ one strong enough to lead this clan,” he broke in. “For the good of Rose, I could no’ accept him.”

“I disagree. Ye didna ken him well enough, and ye didna give him a chance.”

“I didna need to ken him. His clan is no’ strong enough.”

“So ye are left with nay alliance at all. Ye have only yerself to blame.”

“See if ye still think so when I have a son on my knee.”

She sighed. “I hope ye do, Da. I truly hope that comes to pass. If that’s what it takes to make ye happy. Clearly, my sisters and I have no’ been enough to please ye.”

He frowned and glanced away. “That is no’ true. I love each of ye.”

“Then why…”

“Make it difficult for yer sisters to wed?” He pressed his lips together. “I couldna bear to lose any of ye. Can ye no’ see that? Each time one of ye left, ’twas like losing yer maman all over again.”

He held up a hand when Mary started to speak.

“When Iain showed up,” he continued, “I thought giving Brodie the choice of the three of ye would confuse the lad and he’d leave without making an offer. Instead, he chose Annie, and though I tried to stop him, ye three went behind my back. Near to broke my heart.”

“Why not simply tell him nay when he arrived?”

“And cause trouble between our clans?”

“Then ye betrothed Catherine three times, and never once with the man she truly loved.”

“Three I kenned she would refuse, aye? But if they fought for her, if she didna refuse one who proved himself strong enough to gainsay me, any would bring an alliance that would benefit us. Yet, she had her heart set on another Brodie. What did that accomplish, save to satisfy yer sister? For the sake of the clan, for alliances, I had nay choice but to try to tempt her in another direction.”

“And now I am left, and ye cling to me on any pretense ye can manage.”

“For the good of the clan, Mary.”

“Aye, and I’ll go along with ye, but no’ forever. Yer new bride had best have her wits about her.” Not that she seemed to have any, Mary despaired.

“She’d best do more than that.” Rose dropped his head in his hands, then looked up again. “As for her mother—Mary, ye are wiser than that. She is regent for her son.”

“I realized that when I saw him.”

“Then ye ken she would never relinquish such power in Grant to be the wife of a laird. I never considered her as my bride.”

“What if she means to gain Rose territory for Grant? If something happens to ye, Seona’s brother could claim Rose through her.”

Her father shook his head and winced. “No’ if I have a son. The lad would inherit, no’ Grant. If she fails in that, well, I dinna need any more daughters to marry away from Rose. I’m no’ a fool. A Rose must inherit, no’ a Grant.”

Disquiet prickled along Mary’s neck. He didn’t need any more daughters to marry away from Rose? He meant to keep her here for years more, perhaps forever, even though he was taking a wife? Mary’s heart sank.

Then he grunted and rubbed his forehead.

Despite her dismay at her father’s continued stubbornness, she worried over his suffering. “Is yer head hurting again?” His headaches plagued him too often and seemed to be making him more querulous and confused as they progressed. Since he’d already had willowbank tea from the healer this evening, this one worried her more than most.

“Aye.”

“I’m sorry. I upset ye.” She stood. “I’ll fetch the healer.”

“Nay. She’s already done what she can tonight.”

“Then ye should go to yer rest, Da. Ye are tired. We’ve only just arrived from Grant today and the trip was long.”

He nodded. “Ye have a right to ken why I’ve done what I’ve done these last two years. Annie’s bairn got me thinking. I’ve wasted years since yer maman left us. I’m no’ auld, but I’m no’ getting any younger, either. I must leave Rose in strong hands.”

* * *

A week later, Mary stepped out of the keep and took a breath of air redolent with horses and sweaty men. At least it gave her a change from the soap being used to clean inside the great hall and guest rooms. She wiped a tired hand across her forehead. Much to her relief, wedding preparations were well underway. Still, much remained to do before the bridal party arrived.

She didn’t see Cameron among the men in the practice yard, but perhaps he’d already finished. He had been walking every day and getting stronger, Yesterday, he’d even picked up a dirk and done some light sparring with the Rose arms master. Mary had watched from her chamber window, glad to see him so improved, yet sad he would soon leave.

That’s what men did, wasn’t it? Leave. She shook her head. Cameron Sutherland was not Dougal MacBean. Though she knew he had to return to Sutherland, she should not think him cut from the same cloth.

Mary moved to a sunny spot closer to the practice ground. Da was sparring today. He’d paired off with one of his favorite partners. She watched for a few minutes, thinking about Cameron’s observation that her father wasn’t very old yet. Barely into his fourth decade, he still moved well, and seemed not to be winded by his exertions. Yet a bit of silver glinted in his hair. How old was too old to take a bride Seona’s age?

As Mary turned to go back into the keep, her father dropped his sword. His partner immediately backed off, but he wasn’t what caught her attention. Her father’s stillness did. He stood for long moments, head bent, looking at the sword, and flexing his hand. Eventually, he picked up the sword and stalked off the practice yard toward the stable, leaving his partner staring after him, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Mary kept her gaze on the stable door for a few moments longer, but he didn’t come back out. Her father’s odd behavior tempted her to follow him and ask what had happened, but he’d walked away under his own power and he would not welcome her fussing over him in public.

She decided to find him when she’d finished checking on the tasks she’d assigned the servants today. That should take long enough so he would not feel she’d run to his aid and embarrassed him in front of the other men.

All the rushes had been swept out of the great hall and carried away. Four lasses were on their knees, scrubbing with soapy water and stiff brushes at stuck food and God only knew what the dogs might have left on the floor. Mary glanced back at the practice yard, knowing when they were done, the men out there would head straight into the hall for an ale to quench their thirst.

“Ella,” she called to a passing servant. The lass approached, russet head tilted in question.

“Please set up a table with cups and pitchers of ale outside. I want these lasses to finish the floor and let it dry before the men troop in here and track dirt everywhere. The men must remain outside until new rushes are down and I allow them back in. Or they must use another way to their chambers. They are not to enter the great hall.”

“Aye, milady. I’ll get one of the kitchen staff to help me.”

“Good idea. Thank ye.” Mary nodded and headed for Cameron’s chamber. She hadn’t seen him all day. He was pacing when she entered. “What are ye doing?”

He waved a hand. “Thinking about how far I’ve yet to go and how soon the information I carry may be of no use. Time is passing while I languish here.”

Mary’s heart sank. “Ye are anxious to get word to the Sutherland.”

Cameron nodded and heaved a breath. “Aye, but I can do naught about it at the moment. Perhaps in a few more days…”

Mary’s breath froze in her throat at the sudden reminder.

“Ach, lass,” Cameron said and stepped toward her, reaching for her hand. “I dinna mean to upset ye.”

Mary crossed her arms, determined to hide her feelings. Cameron needed to leave. She knew that. “Ye havena. Ye simply caught me off guard. I…I’m very busy today. And I saw Da have another of his spells out on the practice yard. I worry…”

“Let me hold ye, then,” he replied, and pulled her into his arms.

She tried to step back, but he held her fast.

“I promised to help ye by holding ye when ye needed a minute, aye? Just rest, Mary, my love.”

Mary gave in and leaned into Cameron’s warmth. He knew how to soothe her, his hand tracing circles on her back as his voice rumbled against her chest. Finally, her shoulders dropped and she sighed.

He let go of her then. “Better?”

“Aye, thank ye. If ye’d like to get out of here for a while, come with me. I need to check on the chambers for our distinguished guests, then consult with Cook about the wedding feast before I find Da and see how he is. Ye can have something to eat while I do.”

He brightened. “I like yer last idea best.”

Mary chuckled. So Cameron was not a man to concern himself with his surroundings unless his belly was full. Nonetheless, Mary took him to the guest chambers she was giving over to the Grant party. “The largest is reserved for Lady Grant,” she told him as she opened the door. “And the next largest, across the hall, for her daughter, the bride, Seona.”

“What about the men they’ll bring with them?” He leaned against the doorjamb, apparently reluctant to enter, and crossed his arms.

“Their guards will sleep in the great hall, where Rose warriors can keep an eye on them.”

Cameron glanced around the room and nodded at the fine fabrics and porcelain washbasin. “Prudent for many reasons.”

Mary gave the room a sharp-eyed once-over. It looked clean, the hearth swept and the drapes removed to have the dust beaten from them. A deep pink brocaded coverlet that had been her mother’s topped layers of linen sheets and woolen blankets on the bed. Mary had put her mother’s finest silk covers on the bolsters at the top of the mattress.

Cameron indicated the decorative vase on the mantle. “French?”

“Aye. Each room has a vase I will fill with roses. Anything for the comfort of our guests.” A simple vase full of flowers would not make them as well-appointed as the chambers at Grant, but the room was warm and the bed as comfortable as she could make it.

“Glad I’m no’ a guest, then,” Cameron teased. “This is all too pernicketie for me.”

Mary laughed at his use of the old term. “Nay, this is just to impress them, though ye shouldha seen my chamber at Grant. Rose has naught to approach it.” She shrugged. It would have to do. “Anyway, ye have gotten much more care than I will lavish on the Grants.”

Cameron sobered. “And I’m grateful for it.”

Mary crossed her arms. “Ach, Cameron, did ye think I would let ye die?”

“Never.” He traced a knuckle down her cheek and across her lips. “Ye have given me much to live for.”

Her pulse kicked up and something sizzled and twisted along her nerve endings. It seemed every time Cameron touched her, he touched her more intimately than the last time. “I’m glad,” she told him, and meant it.

Cameron grinned. “Me, too.”

Mary knew if she didn’t distract him, he’d take her in his arms and kiss her, right here in Mhairi Grant’s guest chamber. “Hungry?”

“For ye, aye.”

She stepped aside, torn but determined to protect herself from his allure, and from the desire for him coursing through her veins, making her weak, while prickles broke out across her chest and down her arms. She wanted him to kiss her, she did, but she dared not encourage him. He was too accustomed to being alone with her. And the rest of the clan, as well, would think nothing of her spending time alone in Cameron’s chamber. Where anything could happen, now he felt better. “Flirting comes as naturally to ye as breathing, does it no’, Cameron Sutherland?”

“Given the proper incentive, aye.”

“Sorry, I’m no’ on the menu.” She closed the door and stepped past him across the hall. She gave Seona’s chamber a cursory glance while she got her racing pulse under control, then turned back to Cameron. His gaze had not left her. He looked hungry, indeed. For her. She forced herself to ignore his gaze and said brightly, “Let’s go to the kitchens and see what delicacies Cook has prepared for us to taste. Then I must check on Da.”

Cameron’s lips twisted into a rueful smile as he capitulated. “Aye.”

* * *

Four days later, Mary stood in the bailey with her father. An hour before, a messenger had warned them the wedding guests would soon arrive. Now they were here. Following a pair of guards, Lady Grant and her daughter rode through Rose’s gates with heads held high, barely glancing at their surroundings. Their maids and a cart loaded with boxes and bags trailed the ladies. A guard force made up of another dozen men followed and gave the keep a short inspection, no longer than necessary to ensure they were not under attack. Mary watched with interest as her father greeted Lady Grant, taking her hands and helping her from her mount. He escorted her into the keep, leaving poor Seona to fend for herself. Mary glared at his retreating back and went to greet her future mother-in-law, striving for the courtesy her father had denied. Seona looked wan and pale. Tired from the journey, no doubt. Mary escorted her straight to her chamber, leaving the steward to settle everyone else. The bride’s brother, it appeared, had remained at Grant.

Seona took one look at the chamber Mary showed her to, shook her head and refused to enter. “’Tis smaller than my chamber at home!” she complained.

“’Tis temporary,” Mary reminded her, clenching her fists in her skirts where Seona would not see them. “After the wedding, ye’ll move into the laird’s chamber with my father.” Mary found it hard to believe the girl could get any more pale and remain upright, but she did.

“I must have my own chamber,” Seona announced. “Larger than this one. I am unaccustomed to sharing. I canna sleep with someone else in the room.”

“No’ even your maids?” If Seona and her mother insisted on private quarters, Mary would have to find the maids sleeping arrangements nearby.

Seona crossed her arms. “I prefer solitude.”

Mary wished her luck with that. Seona would have much to adjust to, it seemed, in her married life. Clan Rose was less formal than Mary had observed Grant to be. “In any event, supper will be in an hour. If ye like, ye may rest here until then. I will send a bath, if yer maid will be here soon to help ye dress.”

To Mary’s relief, Seona relented and entered the room with a sniff. “Rest well,” Mary told her. She meant to take her leave, but remained at the open door when the steward led her father and Lady Grant to the chamber across the hall.

“Ye will let me know if anything is no’ to yer liking,” Rose said to Lady Grant.

Mary closed Seona’s door and rolled her eyes while her back was to her father. To all appearances, he remained smitten with the mother. Then she turned to them and nodded. “Welcome, Lady Grant. Yer daughter is just here. I was about to see a tub sent up to her. Would ye like one as well?”

Lady Grant sniffed and turned her gaze to the steward. “I am dismayed to find it is not already in place awaiting me.”

“It will be brought in minutes,” the steward assured her, then hurried away down the hall. Mary watched him go, angry at being ignored and jealous of his easy escape.

“I’m sure my daughter can see to everything else,” Rose announced with a frown at Mary.

She fought down her irritation and nodded. “Ye have only to tell me what ye need and I will see it brought to ye,” she promised Lady Grant. She knew her smile looked forced, but what did they expect such arrogance to achieve? She wasn’t a servant. As the laird’s eldest child and heir, she deserved some respect.

The Lady sniffed again and entered her chamber, then closed the door on Mary and her father.

Rose frowned at the door, then rounded on Mary. “I thought ye had everything prepared for their arrival. Ye promised me…”

“I did, Da. I do. But what sense is there in readying a tub in their chambers until after they arrive. Naught, aye? Unless they wish to bathe in cold water.”

Rose crossed his arms over his chest. “They are here now, so see it done.”

Mary sighed and held her tongue as her father stalked down the hall in the same direction the steward had taken.

He had to flatten himself against the wall to allow lads carrying a large tub to pass. The steward, followed by servants, brought up the rear. They carried bath sheets, towels, and buckets of steaming water from the large cauldron in the kitchen. Mary had ordered it kept full and hot hours ago.

She raised an eyebrow at her father, who tipped his head, then went on his way. Mary pursed her lips, then knocked on Lady Grant’s door. “Milady, yer bath is here.”

The door flew open. Mhairi Grant stood in the way, hands on hips. “And about time, too,” she said, looking past Mary to the lads with the tub. “Bring it in, then see to the same for my daughter.” She paced to the window on the opposite side of the chamber and stood with her back to the room until the servants finished filling the tub.

“Do ye require assistance with yer bath?” Mary asked as sweetly as she could manage. She didn’t like that the woman turned her back on the servants as though they were beneath her notice “Or with dressing?”

“Nay. My maid will be here with my things shortly. In the meantime, I can take care of myself. Get out. All of ye.”

“As ye wish.” Mary followed the servants out and closed the door, then leaned against it for a moment with her eyes shut. When she opened them, she nodded a silent apology to the steward and the others. “Fetch another, please. The bride is there.” She indicated Seona’s door. “And make sure their maids bring whatever they will need, quickly,” she added for the steward.

When the servants and steward hurried off to do her bidding, she decided against waiting for their return. Instead, she went to Cameron’s chamber and knocked softly. She doubted he’d be asleep so close to supper time, but he’d walked a lot today and might be tired. She sagged in relief when she heard his deep, “Come,” filter through the door. She entered, closed the door behind her and leaned against it. “’Tis going to be a long week.”

Cameron stepped toward her. “I saw them arrive. Troublesome, are they?”

“Ye have nay idea.” Mary spread her hands, palms up. “And right from the beginning. They’ve made nay attempt to be civil.” She sighed and planted her hands on her hips. “Lady Grant has taken arrogance to a fine art. Seona is intent on remaining alone. She must have her own chamber, even after the wedding,” she parroted. “I canna wait to hear what my da has to say about that.”

Cameron wasted no time wrapping his arms around her. “Ye are aware sleeping separately is common in marriages,” he murmured. “No’ that I would encourage such behavior.” He grinned. “And making an heir doesna require they spend every night together in the same room or bed.”

“Dinna remind me.” Mary rested her head on his shoulder. Cameron started rubbing her back, making her melt against him. “If only ye could rub my feet, too,” she murmured. “I’ve walked this entire keep a hundred times today, making certain all is prepared.”

Cameron laughed. “I’ll do that later, Mary, my love,” he promised with a wink and wicked grin.

Mary tingled all over. If only he meant the endearment. And if only later, he would take her away from here.