A Forbidden Night with a Scot (Sins in a Kilt #1)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

I t was the middle of the night and yet Samuel had the distinct feeling that his friend would still be up and waiting for him. He had failed to mention to Alicia that the reason why he was in MacCallum lands meeting a scout in the first place was because her father had requested his appearance a few days prior and that the letter he had sent had been so urgent that Samuel had left the moment he had the chance. He didn’t know what it was Gavin wanted to tell him, but whatever it was, both Alicia and Katherine seemed unaware and so he didn’t want to risk revealing something they shouldn’t know to them.

His first thought had been war, of course—another clan who sought out more power, perhaps, or al old enemy. As far as Samuel knew, though, Gavin didn’t have any, at least no one who would attack so suddenly. Still, the thought loomed over him and it was what brought him to Gavin’s study that night, knocking on his door.

Under the gap, he could see the flickering light of candles and then a figure approach, pulling the door open. There stood Gavin, looking more haggard than he had seen him in a long while. He was a little older than Samuel himself, turning forty-five that year, but he had always looked youthful and people mistook him for a much younger man. Now, though his hair was still dark, without a trace of white in them, and he kept his broad and lean figure, the circles under his eyes and the clear lack of sleep made him look worse for wear.

“Samuel,” he said, patting him on the shoulder before he pulled him inside and closed the door. Samuel watched him as he rounded his desk and sagged in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face to wake himself up. His study was in disarray—papers laid haphazardly all over the desk, a thin layer of dust coating the bookshelves as though he hadn’t even allowed the maids in. “Did ye only just arrive? What took ye so long?”

As he spoke, Gavin poured them a cup of wine each, handing Samuel his when he sat down across from him. He took it gratefully, taking a sip as Gavin drained his and then promptly refilled it.

It is that bad, then.

It was a bad day when Gavin MacCallum drank without inhibitions. He was not the kind of man to drink himself into a stupor, but now Samuel feared he was doing just that, losing himself in the alcohol.

“I went tae meet one o’ me scouts in a tavern,” he said. He had made Alicia a promise and he wasn’t going to go back on it, so he didn’t mention her or Katherine at all. “He was near, so I thought I would meet with him afore I came here, but I was involved in a fight.”

“A fight?” Gavin asked and for the first time that night, Samuel heard him laugh. “Laird MacDougall gettin’ involved in a fight with drunkards?”

“Well, they didnae ken who I was an’ they were botherin’ a lass,” said Samuel with a small shrug. “I wasnae goin’ tae leave without helpin’ her.”

“Ye’re a good man, Samuel,” said Gavin as he raised his cup to him in a toast. “A good man.”

Once upon a time, Samuel would have bashfully agreed, perhaps, accepting his friend’s praise, but now there was something in his mind that gave him pause. From the moment he had laid eyes upon Alicia that evening, he could not take his mind off her. Even now, he was thinking about her; her brown hair falling in waves down her back, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief whenever their gazes had met—even with anger, sometimes, which was just as endearing to him—her scent as the two of them had rode through the forest earlier that night.

Her bravery as she had turned around and hit that man with the branch in her hands, all so that she could get Samuel out of there.

These were certainly not thoughts he should be having about her. He had known her for so long and she had never been anything more than a sweet girl. When had she become a woman? How could it be that so much time had passed since the last time he had seen her?

It was nothing, he told himself. It was merely the shock of seeing her so grown up that kept bringing her to the forefront of his mind, forcing him to consider her a woman with all her feminine characteristics. He had always been terribly fond of Alicia, after all, and seeing that girl he had once known grow up so fast was an adjustment for which he had not been prepared. But it had not been that long since he had last seen her…

“So, why did ye call me here?” Samuel asked in an effort to distract himself from such impure thoughts. “What happened?”

Gavin took a deep, shuddering breath, the kind that was filled with so much grief, Samuel couldn’t help but think something terrible had happened. “Laird MacTavish sent me a letter askin’ fer Alicia’s hand in marriage.”

“Declan MacTavish?” Samuel asked in disbelief, a humorless chuckle escaping him. Surely, he thought, he must have misheard. “Ye cannae be serious.”

“I am very serious,” said Gavin and proceeded to drain the second cup of wine. Now Samuel could understand why he had turned to alcohol. He, too, finished the rest of his wine and held his cup out for Gavin to refill it, needing all the strength he could get from it. “It has been over two weeks since I received it an’ I havenae responded tae him yet.”

“Well, ye must refuse!” What else was there to do? Declan MacTavish should not have been bold enough to send that letter in the first place, considering he was almost thirty years Alicia’s senior. He was even older than Gavin himself, and as far as Samuel was concerned, Alicia shouldn’t be forced to wed a man older than her own father. “Write tae him immediately an’ say ye willnae allow it.”

“Ye think I wish tae wed her tae him?” Gavin asked, sounding so miserable at the prospect that Samuel’s heart ached with sympathy. “But the king has already agreed tae this. Here.”

Samuel reached for the letter Gavin held out to him—one of the many papers strewn over his desk. He perused it, then read it again, this time with more care.

The letter had the king’s seal, one which ordered Gavin to marry one of his daughters to Laird MacTavish.

O’ course it would be Alicia. She is the older o’ the two.

Samuel could hardly contain his anger. Alicia was too good, too kind, too precious to be given to a man who could have been her father. She was too good to be married off for an alliance like this, when she could have a better life with someone far more suitable.

“What other choice dae I have, Samuel?” Gavin asked. “Shall I go against the king? Shall I pass up on this opportunity? Clan MacTavish is strong and wealthy one. They would be valuable allies an’ we need all the allies we can have now. We have been weakened. We dinnae have much land, we dinnae have much wealth left. The last three winters have been destructive. Our crops, our cattle… all dead. What else am I tae dae?”

“I can help,” Samuel offered without any hesitation. “I can help, Gavin. Ye ken that ye can ask me fer anythin’ ye need an’ I will give it tae ye. We’ve been friends all our lives. I willnae leave yer clan tae suffer.”

From across the desk, Gavin gave him a small, grateful smile. “Thank ye,” he said. “But there is only that much ye can dae fer me an’ there is only that much I can ask o’ ye.”

“Anythin’,” Samuel insisted. “Anythin’ ye need.”

Gavin looked at Samuel ruefully, shaking his head. “Ye ken it’s more than that. The king?—”

“The king has already forced ye tae wed Emmeline tae that beast!” Samuel roared, slamming his hands on the desk, unable to control his temper any longer. The pitcher of wine rattled and some ink spilled out of the inkwell with the force of the blow, staining a piece of paper. “Dae ye wish fer Alicia tae have the same fate?”

“O’ course I dinnae!” shouted Gavin in a rare display of rage, before he breathed deeply and sank back in his seat. “O’ course I dinnae. I wish I could let her wed whoever she wanted, but how will I refuse when the king himself has decreed it? What will I say tae him?”

Samuel had no good response to that. As much as he wanted to save another one of Gavin’s daughters from this fate, he didn’t know how he could possibly do so. He thought perhaps they could claim she was already betrothed to someone else, but that, too, left a bitter taste in the back of his mouth, in a way he didn’t want to examine too closely, fearful of what he would find lurking in his mind. There was the matter of her betrothed, too—where would they find someone suitable who could play this part in such short notice?

The two of them fell into a tense silence, neither man knowing what to say. Samuel sipped at his wine, trying to find some sort of solution to keep this wedding from ever taking place, but each scenario was more impossible than the last.

“Does Alicia ken about this?” he asked eventually, breaking the silence.

Gavin shook his head. “Nay. Nay, I didnae wish tae tell her afore I made a decision. Let her have some more days without worries.”

“Ye speak as though ye have already made yer decision,” Samuel pointed out. “Gavin, ye cannae agree. She cannae have her sister’s fate.”

“I never wished...”

Gavin’s voice broke as he spoke, the last word coming out choked. He shook his head and took a deep breath, and Samuel wished there was something he could do to comfort his friend.

“I never wished fer Emmeline tae wed that man,” he said once he had composed himself. His voice was still strained, though, still coming out in barely a whisper. “If I could have done somethin’, anythin’ tae keep him away from her, I would have. But I couldnae save her an’ now I cannae save Alicia, either.”

Samuel didn’t want to believe that. He had to hold onto the hope that there was still something to be done, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to bear it. Gavin, though, seemed to have already lost all hope, as if he had accepted the fact that there was nothing to be done at all.

“An’ after everythin’ she’s been through,” said Gavin with a shake of his head. “Losin’ her maither, losin’ her sister tae that man… Dae ye ken she still blames herself fer Maud’s death? She’s told me. She’s told me, Samuel. She believes she killed Maud. An’ there was naething I could tell her that would change her mind.”

A heavy sigh tumbled past Samuel’s lips. Of course, Alicia would be blaming herself for her mother’s death, he thought, when there was nothing, she could have done to save her. She was just like that—always feeling responsible for others ever since she was a young child.

And now this, Samuel thought.

Well… nae if I have somethin’ tae say about it.

“We’ll find a way tae stop this,” he said. “I swear it, Gavin. I willnae let this weddin’ happen.”

Slowly, Gavin nodded, giving Samuel a tentative smile—one that said he didn’t quite believe that he could.

When Alicia woke up that morning, the events of the previous night seemed to her like a distant dream, though they had only taken place a few hours prior. When the maid opened her door and drew the curtains back, letting the sunshine in, she blinked her eyes open, trying to rub the sleep away with little success. After returning home so late at night, and after the excitement of everything that had happened, she had barely managed to get any sleep and was now paying the price.

Her presence was requited at breakfast, though, since they had a guest that day.

The moment Alicia remembered that Samuel was there, she buried her face in her pillow with a groan, reluctant to get up and dress. The maid, Fiona, an aging woman who had been working in the castle before Alicia was even born, laughed good-naturedly at her and pulled the covers back to force her out of bed.

“It is time, me lady,” Fiona said, her dark brown eyes peering at her from under a pair of thick, greying eyebrows. “Come, let us choose yer dress fer the day.”

Alicia could hardly tell her that she wasn’t merely eager to sleep more, but had another important reason to stay in bed. With great effort, she pushed herself up and out of bed, standing defeated in the middle of the room as Fiona pulled one of her dresses out for her. It was a pretty thing, a deep forest green trimmed with lace and decorated with golden thread, and Alicia couldn’t help but feel like it was a little too formal for the occasion.

“Fiona, is this really appropriate?” she asked, frowning at the dress.

“Ye cannae appear in front o’ a guest in anythin’ less than yer best garments,” said Fiona sternly. She had been like this ever since Alicia was a child, always insisting she had to dress well, even when there was no occasion for it. “Come now. Wear it. Ye’re already late fer breakfast.”

With an all-suffering sigh, Alicia snatched the dress from Fiona’s hands and put it on with her assistance, grumbling the entire time about the unfairness of it all. Fiona listened in silence, the only indication that she heard any of it the harsh tightening of the laces on Alicia’s back.

“There,” Fiona said, a pleased smile on her lips. “All done.”

Alicia turned a half-hearted glare at Fiona, who only smiled pleasantly at her, knowing Alicia wasn’t nearly as irritated by all this as she appeared to be. Still, she had to admit her mood was sour. Thinking about what—or rather who—awaited her at the breakfast table put her on edge and she wished she could simply skip breakfast and let Katherine take over the role of the hostess, which had fallen onto her shoulders ever since their mother’s death and her older sister’s marriage.

Fiona would never allow it, though. She could not miss it.

Begrudgingly, although she secretly felt a twinge of excitement, Alicia made her way to the drawing room, where the servants had already served the breakfast. As she had expected, Katherine and Samuel were already there, though her father was nowhere to be seen.

“Good mornin’,” she said as she took her seat at the head of the table, like every time her father was absent. “Where is Faither?”

“In his study,” said Samuel before Katherine could respond. “He has some things tae dae.”

Turning to one of the servants, Alicia asked, “Has he eaten?”

“He has been brought food, me lady,” said the girl rather cryptically. Alicia could only suspect that her father had not eaten whatever he had been brought.

With a sigh, she turned to Katherine, who had the same look of concern on her face that she felt. Their father had not been his usual self lately. Something had been bothering him, but neither Alicia nor Katherine knew what it could possibly be.

I wonder if Samuel kens. He must. Perhaps this is why he is here.

But if her father had instructed him to refrain from telling either of them anything, then Alicia doubted there was a way for her to get the truth out of Samuel. He was not the kind of man to go back on his word or speak about something he shouldn’t.

The three of them ate mostly in silence, with only Katherine trying to break it every now and then with some small talk. Though Samuel seemed happy to engage, Alicia couldn’t find it in her to speak much, still too exhausted from the previous night and too embarrassed by all the thoughts running through her head to pay attention to anything but her plate.

She had to avoid Samuel as much as she could. She had to be around him as little as possible, as her infatuation only seemed to be growing in his vicinity, instead of fading like it should have.

“Me lady,” a familiar voice called and Alicia turned to see one of the servants bowing to her. “Yer faither has requested yer presence in his study. He says it is a matter o’ importance.”

Though Alicia had hardly touched her breakfast, she excused herself and stood, following the servant out of the room. As she left, she couldn’t help but glance at Samuel, whose look puzzled her. He seemed almost disturbed, something about him giving her the sense that whatever her father wanted to talk to her about was not a good thing.

So, will he finally reveal what has been happenin’ this whole time?

A part of her was relieved that she would finally know, but another feared what was to come. If Samuel’s expression was any indication, the news would not be good.

Rushing upstairs to her father’s study, Alicia knocked, not waiting for a response before she opened the door. Her father was alone, sitting behind his desk and gazing out of the window at the clear sky, a cup of wine in his hand. When she entered the room, he turned to look at her but otherwise gave no acknowledgment.

Alicia walked over to the desk, sitting on one of the chairs before it. Her father suddenly looked older, as though years had passed in the span of a few days, and she couldn’t help but fear the worst.

Has somethin’ happened tae the clan? Did somethin’ happen tae Emmeline?

Nay. Surely, he would have told us if it was me sister.

“What is wrong, Faither?” Alicia asked when he made no effort to speak. She could have sworn in that moment that his eyes shone with unshed tears, something she had only seen twice before—once when her mother had died and once when he had had to give Emmeline away to her husband.

Her father’s lips parted, then closed again, as though he couldn’t bring himself to say what he wanted to say. He drew in a deep breath and reached over the desk for her hand, holding it tightly between his own.

“I have some news,” he said and his voice trembled ever so slightly. “It is… somethin’ we kent could happen one day.”

Alicia nodded in an effort to encourage him, but her father seemed exhausted just by saying that much. It was costing him, she could see, to have this conversation with her and her stomach dropped at the thought of all the things that could have gone wrong in the past few weeks. She wished he would understand that the more he delayed this, the worse it was for them both.

“Laird MacTavish has sent me a letter,” he continued. “Tae ask me fer yer hand in marriage.”

Alicia froze and the rest of the world seemed to freeze with her. Even time slowed down, everything around her coming to a sudden halt.

Laird MacTavish? The man is almost twice me age!

If her infatuation with Samuel had taught Alicia anything, it was that she didn’t mind an older man—if anything, she preferred it. But Laird MacTavish was even older than her father and he was nothing like Samuel.

Surely, this wasn’t a suggestion her father was entertaining. It couldn’t be. Especially after Emmeline’s marriage, he had to know this was a bad idea.

“An’ ye refused,” she said, more of a statement than a question. “Ye refused, did ye nae?”

Her father hesitated and it was all Alicia needed to know that he had not, in fact, refused. Within seconds, her eyes welled up with tears, hot and stinging, but she refused to let them fall.

A pained sound escaped her father, like the mere sight of her like this wounded him terribly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, me daughter, but the king has decreed it. An’ Clan MacTavish is a good ally. We will prosper with them on our side.”

“Prosper?” asked Alicia, shaking her head in disbelief. “An’ what about me? I will be the one who will have tae wed Laird MacTavish. Dae ye think I will prosper, Faither? Dae ye think I will prosper with him as me husband? That I will wish tae have his bairns? That I will ever love him? Or dae ye think he will?”

Alicia knew for certain Laird MacTavish would not love her. The only reason why he wanted to wed her was because she was young and he was after a young, naive wife, but he was not going to find such a thing in her. In fact, if Alicia had anything to say about it, he wasn’t going to find a wife in her at all.

But how could she refuse? Laird MacTavish, the king, and even her own father wanted this wedding to happen. How could she escape it? How could she ever fight the three powerful men who wanted this?

Does Samuel ken? He must.

Alicia wished he would have said something to her. She wished he had prepared her so she could stand in front of her father with a plan, ready to change his mind. But of course, Samuel had not said a thing, perhaps not only because he didn’t think it was his place to speak, but also because he probably wanted to spare her the pain for a few more hours.

The tears that gathered in Alicia’s eyes finally began to fall and there was no stopping them now. She quickly pulled her hand back, trying to dry her cheeks, but the more she tried, the more tears fell, unbridled. Her father’s expression had contorted into one of pain, but Alicia couldn’t bring herself to care, not when she was the one asked to make such a sacrifice.

It wasn’t easy for her father to marry two of his daughters to such people—yet it was even more difficult for Emmeline to be wedded to her husband and Alicia knew it would be the same for her.

Before her father could say anything else, Alicia stood and made for the door. Even as he called her name, she didn’t turn around. She couldn’t face him, not when all the pain threatened to choke her, to turn her into a person she didn’t want to be.

As she turned the corner, unseeing, her vision blurred by tears, she fell right into a solid wall of muscle. At first, she thought it must have been one of the guards, but then she looked up to see none other than Samuel there, his hands flying up to her shoulders to steady her.

She hated how much she wanted that touch. She hated how she immediately collapsed in Samuel’s arms, letting him hold her as she allowed a few sobs to escape her before pulling herself together again.

She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, especially not Samuel.

“So, he told ye.”

As he spoke, Samuel wrapped his arms tightly around Alicia, but she was quick to pull back from him, as much as a part of her—a big part—wanted to stay in his embrace forever. Not only did she not want to lose sight of the fact that she had to keep her distance, but she was also heartbroken that Samuel would allow such a thing. Could he not speak to her father? Could he not make him see that this was madness?

When she pulled back from him, Samuel let his hands fall by his sides with a sigh, not trying to pull her back close. “I’m sorry, Alicia,” he said. “I understand ye must be very upset about this.”

“Upset?” Alicia spat, her tone dripping with venom. “I’m nae upset, Samuel. I am devastated. An’ ye would be too if ye were in me shoes. Ye cannae understand what it is like. Ye’ll never have tae dae anythin’ like this. Ye’ll never have yer own faither betray ye like this.”

She knew she was being harsh, but this was precisely what it felt like—a betrayal from one of the people she trusted the most. How could her father do this to her? How could he agree to this without even putting up a fight?

“It pains him tae even have tae consider this,” Samuel said. “Trust me, Alicia, the last thing yer faither wants is fer ye tae wed Laird MacTavish.”

“He doesnae seem tae be so bothered,” Alicia said.

“He is,” Samuel assured her. “He told me himself that he doesnae wish tae see ye wedded tae him, but how can he refuse when the king himself has decreed it? I promise ye, he doesnae want this but he doesnae ken how tae stop it.”

Alicia had to turn away from Samuel to hide the fresh wave of tears that spilled out of her eyes. She knew what he was saying was true—of course she did. She had seen the look on her father’s face as he delivered the news. But she still needed to be angry at someone; she still needed to blame someone for all this, and her father was the one who was essentially allowing it.

A warm, heavy hand rested on her shoulder as Samuel tried to comfort her and Alicia drew her bottom lip between her teeth, biting hard to ground herself so that she wouldn’t collapse in his arms once more. As tempting as it was, she had made a promise to herself to stay away.

“Come,” he said. “Shall we take a ride tae the loch? Some fresh air will help ye.”

Despite that promise, Alicia nodded.