'Emily, I…' Cait looked like she was ready to cry again.
Emily soothed her as best she could. 'Do not worry about me. I will be all right,' she lied with what was left of her courage.
But Cait shook her head. 'No. You will be ruined… you'll be mated to him. They don't see it that way here… Susannah told us, but the Sinclairs will. I'm sure your English father will.'
'You mean if Drustan takes you to his bed, he will not see himself committed to you?' Emily asked.
'Of course he is committed to her. What do you think the priest is for?' Lachlan asked with obvious exasperation.
Emily turned on him with fury. 'He said he would take her to his bed regardless.'
'He wants her promise.'
'And you… all you want is your own way.'
His dark brow rose.
Emily opened her mouth, but did not know what to say. She did not want to be the lever used to force Cait into marriage, but she was also worried for her friend's virtue. Regardless, she would not lend her voice to the others in putting pressure on her friend.
She snapped her mouth shut and turned away.
'I will speak my vows.'
'Not on my account,' Emily said fiercely, grabbing her friend's arm.
Cait shook her head. 'It is an empty gesture to refuse.' She sighed, her shoulders slumped. 'As I said, my clan sees the physical act of joining as a lifelong commitment. My brother will consider me mated regardless of what words I speak here.'
'But you do not want to promise your loyalty to Drustan, do you?'
She finally understood why Cait wanted to avoid saying her vows regardless of Drustan's threat.
'No, but even if I do not say the words… I will belong to the Balmoral clan come sunrise. According to the laws of my people, I will belong to Drustan.'
It wasn't right, but it was the way of the world. It only shocked Emily that Cait claimed the Balmoral clan did not see it as such. Well, without the wedding… an Englishman could walk away from a woman he had compromised as well. Was Cait saying that a Sinclair could not?
It was all very confusing, but one thing was clear. Cait was not happy about speaking her vows.
Drustan did not look too happy either. In fact, he looked downright mean. He grasped Cait's shoulders and turned her to face him again. 'Becoming my wife is not a punishment.'
'I know,' Cait whispered, shocking Emily and making Lachlan grunt with approval.
Drustan's green gaze softened. 'I will care for you and watch over you and your bairn.'
At mention of the babe, Cait shook her head.
Drustan sighed and pulled her closer. 'Yes. You will learn to trust me, lass.'
Then, before Cait could argue again, he kissed her. This time Emily did not watch. She turned her head away, but could not help noticing the tiny sounds of pleasure her friend made.
After what seemed like a very long time, Drustan spoke, 'Repeat the vows for my mate, Father.'
The priest repeated them and Cait spoke her responses in a dreamy voice that gave Emily her first true smile in a long while. Cait did not like having her decision made for her, but she was not averse to marrying Drustan. Not really. And truly, it was no worse than when Talorc had informed Cait on the day of her first wedding that she was to be given to one of his soldiers. That had been no great love match from what Emily could tell.
A woman's lot was not an easy one, but Cait could do worse than to marry a strong man who had not resorted to violence to
They celebrated the wedding with a toast before Lachlan instructed his brother to escort Emily to the east tower.
'Can she not stay with us?' Cait begged Drustan, then turned to Lachlan. 'You cannot truly mean to lock her in a tower?'
'Do not question your laird,' Drustan said before Lachlan got a chance to answer.
'He's not my laird.'
'As of fifteen minutes ago, he is.'
'But—'
'There is only one bed in our quarters.'
'Emily can sleep in it with me.'
'I will be in it with you and we will not be sleeping,' Drustan said in a voice that made Emily embarrassed to hear it.
Cait looked at Emily with an apology in her eyes.
'It is all right. Truly. I am happy to go to the tower. You must not worry about me.'
The older woman who had approached them in the bailey came forward and put her hand on Cait's arm, nodding to her son. 'I am Moira, mother to Drustan, Angus and Susannah. Welcome to our family, child.' Moira looked at Emily then. 'You are English.'
'Yes.'
'You are betrothed to the Sinclair.'
'Yes.'
'How can this be?'
'By order of both our kings.'
'Ah.' Moira nodded again. 'That explains the mystery. Why is our laird bent on locking you in a tower? Have you been difficult?'
'Perhaps, a bit.'
Ulf grunted and grabbed her arm. 'Come.'
Emily turned to her friend and hugged her tight with her free arm. 'All will be well, Cait. Truly it will.'
'Yes.' Then, seeming to know what had Emily most worried, she said, 'He will not hurt me. He promised.'
Emily swallowed down her emotion and nodded as she stepped back. Then she looked at Drustan. 'Be kind to her. If she is to be your wife, you must realize you are duty-bound to protect her from harm.'
Instead of getting angry, Drustan nodded solemnly. 'I would ever do my duty.'
Emily turned to Ulf. 'Please release my arm. You are hurting me. I will follow you without argument.'
He ignored her and started dragging her toward the main entry to the great hall. Suddenly, he stopped and his grip fell away from her arm.
Lachlan was there, his face inches from Ulf's. 'I gave you an order, it did not include touching her. Do not do so again.'
Ulf said something vicious, but he did not take her arm again. He led her across the great hall to the entrance to a stairway in the eastern corner. They started up a set of spiral stairs in total silence. She kept several paces behind him, afraid of what his temper might make him do. The steps felt like they went on and on.
She and Ulf passed three landings on their way upward, but did not stop on any of them. When he finally did stop, it was on a small landing that had only one door. He pushed it open and she stepped inside, careful not to touch him as she squeezed into the room.
The door shut behind her with a bang and the unmistakable sound of the bar sliding in place let her know she'd been locked in good and tight.
Shivering, she hugged herself and looked around her new accommodations. The circular area was small and sparse. It had a bed covered with the Balmoral plaid, but no rags over the window to keep out light or wind, no tapestries on the cold stone walls to relieve their monotony, no fireplace for additional warmth, and not even a chair to sit on. There was a small table with a wooden pitcher, a bowl, a cup and a cloth. She looked around for a chamber pot, but saw a garderobe with no door on it instead.
The tower room looked exactly like what it was, a place designed to keep prisoners.
But it was clean and it could have been worse.
She could have been warming Lachlan's bed.
Cait stood in the middle of her new home, her insides shaking. She was married. Again. She did not want to
