Rhys had to ask himself a lot of hard questions. Caitlin had challenged him the previous night when she had asked him about what kind of man he wanted to be. When he looked at himself he felt awful because he wanted to please his father, but now he wanted Caitlin to forever look at him the way she looked at him the previous night—with love in her eyes.
Thoughts careened through his mind and he found himself wishing that he didn’t have to go through with his father’s plans. But he couldn’t back out now. He would not betray his father. He needed some guidance. He needed to speak to someone else about his thoughts, someone who he could trust implicitly, and the only two people that came to mind were his brothers.
Rhys strode out of his room with purpose, and was at least glad that he didn’t have to wear anything as ridiculous as he had worn the previous night. He hid his eyes from the people he passed as he was afraid that they would glean some of his anguish. His long loping strides ate up the ground. He was about to leave the keep and visit the Frasier camp outside. His brothers had wanted to stay with familiar people rather than in the McClearey keep. But just before he walked out the door he heard a pattering of footsteps behind him and a voice calling out. He turned around to see the jogging form of Bryn approaching. Rhys forced a smile.
“Morning Laird McClearey,” Rhys said.
“Dinnae ye worry about all that. Ye’re gaeing tae be family taemorrow. Call me Bryn,” the older man said, slapping Rhys on the shoulder. Rhys nodded and squirmed as Bryn referenced the wedding. Rhys knew they would only be family for a couple of days. Bryn was a dead man walking.
Bryn was about to say something when he noticed the distant look in Rhys’s eyes and he frowned.
“Are ye well lad?” he asked.
Rhys looked stricken and his eyes flared in panic for a moment, but he managed to keep himself composed. Out in the wild when he was tracking prey he often had to slow his heartbeat and remain still and patient for hours on end. It was a skill that served him well in moments like these.
“Just a wee bit tired from everything that’s been gaeing on,” he said, and forced another smile. Bryn nodded in understanding and the concern left his face.
“Aye, well, it’ll all be over soon and ye and Caitlin can begin ye life taegether. I’m glad tae see that ye are getting on well. There are nae many men who can handle a lass like her. She’s always been a free spirit, and she speaks her mind as well, although I’m sure ye are well aware of that already.” He gave Rhys a knowing smile. Rhys chuckled a little and nodded.
“Oh aye, and I’m sure it’s gotten her in plenty of trouble,” he said.
“That it has lad, that it has. But there’s one thing I wanted tae speak tae ye about. Ye see, even though ye’re on good terms with Caitlin, ye hae nae really seen her brothers yet and, well, they’re protective of her. It’s a silly thing really, as they’re just wee lads, although Mark is getting stronger every day. But it would mean a lot tae us, and tae Caitlin, if ye spent a few hours sparring with them.”
Rhys looked anxiously towards the door that would lead to his brothers and hopefully a resolution to his inner turmoil, but he could not ignore Bryn’s pleas. Rhys was aware how much it would mean to Caitlin as whenever she spoke about her brothers her eyes lit up.
“I’d be happy tae,” he said.
“They’re in the courtyard,” Bryn said, and patted Rhys on the back again. Rhys sighed as he turned away from the door and briskly walked to the courtyard where the three boys were waiting. Mark, who was the tallest and looked the spitting image of his father, was holding a sword well and moving with quite a good bit of grace. Dominic, the next eldest, was trying to hold his own against Mark, but he didn’t have as good a handle on his technique and so he was being driven back. Pip, the youngest, was standing beside them, holding a weapon of his own, although it was a child’s sword and looked more like a needle than a weapon. Rhys strode up and stood on the edge of the makeshift arena they had created in the middle of the courtyard.
“He’s here!” Pip cried out in a high-pitched squeal. Mark and Dominic stopped their bout and turned to face Rhys. Dominic met him with a smile, but Mark’s gaze was even. Rhys was no stranger to the look in his eyes; it was a look of pure anger.
“It’s a pleasure tae meet ye,” Mark said, holding out his hand. Rhys clasped hands and could feel the younger lad putting pressure on him, trying to exert his strength, but it was nothing compared to what Rhys could endure so he merely shrugged it off.
“Are ye gaeing tae spar with us?” Dominic asked.
“Aye, we are
