When they crested a rocky ridge a sennight after departing from Lochmaben, the Mackenzie warriors let out whoops and whistles of enthusiasm.

Corinne jumped in the saddle. It had been a glum, quiet five days since they’d left the inn. The sudden noise and excitement sent trepidation into the pit of her stomach. They must be close to Eilean Donan.

The landscape had changed much over the last several days. Gone were the soft hills and dense forests of the Lowlands. For a while, they’d traveled through desolate moors of rock and scrubby, hardy plants, only broken by huddled clumps of pine trees, wind-rippled lochs, and small, humble farmsteads and villages.

Now they’d entered terrain even more rugged. Having grown up in Cumbria, Corinne had thought she’d seen mountains, but naught compared to the craggy, barren peaks surrounding them. She felt small, dwarfed by such majesty.

“The men have spotted the Five Sisters,” Reid said behind her, making her start again.

They’d said little to each other after she’d told him of her dashed dreams. It was for the best, for Corinne didn’t trust her voice whenever she thought of his words.

The life ye wanted willnae come to pass.

Aye, it seemed that one way or another, fate was conspiring against her work as a scribe. Even as she struggled to accept that, it didn’t take the sting from her eyes or the lump from her throat. The pain was made more acute with each passing day, for they drew nearer to Reid’s home—and her new life.

Reid pointed, his muscular arm making an angled line over her shoulder and past her eyes.

“Those are the Five Sisters there. Ye see?”

Her gaze followed his arm toward a row of steep mountains rising in front of them. A faint dusting of snow highlighted every sharp angle and unforgiving slope along the range. Beneath its awe-inspiring façade sat a smooth lake trimmed with flame-colored oaks and dark green pines. Red deer dotted the hillsides above the lake, their breaths puffing in the chilly air.

“Each peak has a different name,” Reid said, shifting his finger to the highest points jutting above the rest. “It is said that they were the daughters of a Highland chief long ago. He once had seven beautiful daughters, but two brothers from a faraway land sailed into the loch and stole two of the chief’s daughters away.”

Despite herself, curiosity pricked at Corinne. “What happened to the other five, then?”

“To appease the angry chief, the brothers vowed that they had five eligible brothers to marry the other sisters. But after they sailed away, they never returned to the loch, and the lasses eventually turned to stone.”

Warmth rose to her cheeks. “That is a sad tale. Mayhap the brothers shouldn’t have stolen those women away.”

She felt him shift in the saddle and imagined that he was frowning at her pointed comment.

“Be that as it may,” he said, his voice low, “the Five Sisters are much beloved by the Mackenzies, for whenever we see them, we ken we are close to home.”

He trailed his finger to the left, pointing at a valley that ran along the lake and around the base of the mountain range. “Eilean Donan lies just beyond there.”

She nodded, her stomach pinching with nervousness.

Reid spurred his horse into a gallop, and they tore down the rise and into the valley. The others streamed after them, clearly eager to be home.

They rounded the lake and skirted along its northern shoreline. As the sharp, briny scent of the sea hit her, Corinne realized that the lake must actually be fed in part by the ocean, though the waters were sheltered and still.

Ahead, a dark speck of an island sat in the water just off the shore. Across from it on the north side was a clump of buildings.

“Is that…”

“Aye,” he shouted over the thundering of hooves. “Eilean Donan.”

To her shock, he pointed not at the little village on the shoreline, but at the stark, rocky island. She squinted. What she’d mistaken for a towering pile of rocks was actually a massive stone castle.

As they reached the outskirts of the village, Reid and the other warriors reined in their horses. Someone shouted and pointed at them, and soon people were streaming from thatch-roofed huts and wooden buildings, calling out and waving to the returning party.

Soon the gathering villagers broke out into song, the children running merrily after the horses. Corinne fought the urge to shrink back into Reid’s chest. As joyous as the homecoming was, she didn’t miss the curious stares and whispers as she passed atop Reid’s horse.

Reid guided them to the edge of the village, where a large system of stables sat along the shoreline. He dismounted and reached for her. When she looked down at him, his normally hard-set features were surprisingly relaxed. Of course, he was among his people. Unlike her.

He called out orders to the stable master to tend to the men’s horses, then took Corinne by the elbow and led her toward a wooden dock just opposite the stables. Now that they were no longer on horseback, villagers swarmed around them.

“Welcome back, Laird!” someone called.

“Did ye slay many Englishmen, Laird?”

“What news from the King?”

As Reid and the others reached the wooden dock, he turned to face the exuberant villagers.

“All is well,” he called out in a booming voice. “In fact, to celebrate our many victories, there will be a great feast at the castle on the morrow.”

The villagers erupted into cheers and merriment. Taking advantage of their uproarious joy, he turned to an armored man on the dock and shouted “To the castle, Timothy.”

The man nodded and motioned Reid onto a waiting boat. Reid pulled Corinne through the crowd after him and handed her down into the boat. A few of the Mackenzie warriors climbed in as well, though it looked as though some of them wished to remain in the village to celebrate their homecoming.

Just as Timothy shoved away from the dock and began rowing them toward the castle on the island, someone called from the shoreline. “Who is the lass, Laird?”

Reid ignored the question, but when Corinne caught his eye, he frowned slightly. “They’ll learn soon enough. The feast tomorrow will be in honor of our wedding.”

Cold apprehension rippled over Corinne’s skin. “So soon?”

“There is no point in waiting.”

The words sounded frosty to her ears. She swallowed, pulling her gaze away to examine the castle.

Though it only sat a long stone’s throw from the shoreline, it was clearly built with impenetrability and inaccessibility in mind. A thick stone curtain wall surrounded nearly the entire island, with three rectangular guard towers positioned along the wall so that every angle could be watched.

Inside the wall, an even larger square tower, which she assumed was the castle’s keep, rose imposingly above the others. Both the watchtowers and the keep were slitted with arrow loops and topped with crenelated battlements for defense.

As they drew nearer, Corinne began to wonder how they would enter the imposing fortress, for the curtain wall rose directly from the island’s steep rocky sides. She had her answer when Timothy began to row them around to the back side of the island.

Corinne craned her neck as they glided past one of the towers, where guards wearing the same green and blue checked plaid as Reid gazed down at them. Between the largest of the watchtowers and the keep tower, a small, shallow beach appeared against the wall. Timothy rowed them onto the beach, which was hardly big enough even for the small boat.

Just as Reid lifted her from the boat to the sand, a squat, narrow gate in the wall opened with a loud squeal.

“Come.” Reid took her elbow once more and ducked through the gate. They emerged from the narrow path cut in the thick stone wall into a large open courtyard—filled with smiling people.

A cheer went up as those in the castle greeted their Laird. He held up a hand for silence, and as the crowd began to quiet, Corinne felt the distinct shift of eyes toward her.

“We have returned victorious, having served King Robert the Bruce loyally,” Reid boomed.

The crowd cheered once more, but now a ripple of murmurs moved through them. A few pointed at Corinne, whispering questions behind their hands.

“And as a loyal servant,” Reid went on, his voice loud and emotionless, “it is my duty to obey the King’s wishes. He has deigned to give me a bride and ordered that I wed her with all haste.”

Corinne stared up at Reid, stunned by his words. Whether he meant to or not, he’d just shamed her in front of his people. Aye, it was true that he’d been commanded to wed her, but need he make her sound like such a burden?

Now rumbles of confusion rose from those gathered.

 Reid spoke over them. “This is Lady Corinne de Reymont of Cumbria.”

“She’s English?” someone whispered loudly.

“Look at her,” another muttered.

Corinne looked down at herself, imagining what the crowd saw. She wore the same much-abused blue gown that she’d donned in the Bruce’s camp. It was rumpled and stained from a sennight of hard travel. Besides their night at the inn, they’d slept out of doors on the ground and ridden through the rain and mud during the day.

She lifted a gloved hand to her hair, her face burning with humiliation. Reid had thought her a boy when he’d first laid eyes on her.

“Silence,” Reid snapped, his gaze hard on his people. “We will be wed tomorrow, as the King wishes. Now see to yer duties.”

If she could have, Corinne would have let the stones beneath her feet swallow her whole in that moment. Was this how it would be between them, then, and between her and his people?

Aye, what else did she expect from the Mackenzie clan—or from Reid? He was only doing his duty, as she was. His distaste for the task was palpable. It was no wonder, then, that his people would feel free to express their displeasure as well.

Still murmuring, the crowd began to disperse, casting wary stares in her direction.

“Gellis!” Reid barked, making Corinne jump.

A short, brown-haired woman approaching middle years hurried forward from the departing mass of people. She dipped into a curtsy before Reid, sliding a look at Corinne as she did.

“I ken this may be awkward for ye, Gellis, but I’d like ye to attend to Lady Corinne. See that she is made comfortable for the night in one of the spare rooms, and help her prepare for the wedding tomorrow,” Reid instructed.

Gellis blinked wide brown eyes at Reid, but then quickly dropped into another curtsy. “As ye wish, Laird. This way, milady.”

Gellis tilted her head at Corinne, then set off toward the large, looming keep.

Shame and trepidation burning in her face and pricking behind her eyes, Corinne turned without looking at Reid and fell in behind Gellis.

She was in the belly of the beast now.