The Scot's Pursuit - Keira Montclair Page 0,30
saw something she didn’t like—pity.
Osbert opened the door and said, “We are ready, my sweet.” His wide smile made her more uncomfortable than anything the bairns could have done or said.
“Ready? For what?” she asked, truly puzzled by his comment.
“Why, for our wedding, of course. Wee Coira has been very excited.”
Coira jumped off her stool and tried to clap her hands, but she lost her balance and fell against one of her sisters. The lass quickly retaliated by hitting Coira in the face, while the other stood up to kick the poor lassie.
“Please stop that,” Branwen said.
She looked at Lora and Osbert to see how they reacted to the two girls’ actions, but Lora simply pulled Coira away from the other two. Was this the usual pattern to their day—lads fighting and lassies slapping?
Coira escaped Lora’s hands and ran to Branwen to bury her face in her skirts. Branwen didn’t know what to do, so she hugged the wee lassie. Papa stuck his head in behind Osbert and said, “Please hurry, Branwen. I cannot spend all day waiting for your marriage to take place, and I must approve it.”
“But Papa, you said ’twould happen in a fortnight.”
“I did, but that was before I found about Alick and your visit with your uncle. I make the decision about your husband, not the Earl of Thane.”
She followed him into the front chamber, surprised to see a priest standing there, robes flowing around him. He nodded and said, “My lady, please join me here.” He held his hand out, indicating the place for her to stand, then nodded for Osbert to take up his position.
She refused to move. “Papa, you cannot force me to do this. I married Alick MacNicol while you were gone. I’m sorry that I did it behind your back, but you left me no choice. Mr. Ware, my apologies, but I love another. I’m already married.”
“What?” Osbert asked, the shock evident on his face. “You never told me this, Denton. How can I marry someone who has already said her vows to another?”
“She’s lying.” Her father clenched and unclenched his fists in a way that told her he’d like to use them on her, but she forced herself not to cringe from him. “Who married you?” he asked.
“Father MacKenzie. We were visiting the chapel by the loch and he was there. He married us. I swear ’tis the truth.”
“Master Denton?” the priest said. “A word, please.”
Her father marched forward, but she could hear his words to the priest. “She’s lying. There is no Father MacKenzie. He passed over a year ago.”
“I don’t know of a Father MacKenzie either. I’d heard of one but they said he’d died a while ago. But I must know the truth. I cannot marry a woman already wed.” The priest fussed with his robes, clearly upset by her revelation.
“You think she has made up this wedding?” Osbert asked, looking at her with an expression she hated. Pity, if she were to guess. A look that said she was either addled or daft.
“She has created this situation in her mind to stop this marriage. I’ll not allow her to stop it since we’ve come all this way.” That’s when her father took several coins from his coin purse and handed them to the priest. “I tell you there is no Father MacKenzie.” He stepped toward her and grabbed her upper arm, squeezing it until she wished to scream loud enough for all to hear her. “Now, you will do as you’re told.”
The priest started the ceremony, her father’s coin the only convincing he required, and Branwen listened in a daze, knowing she only had to respond to one part. After all, she’d just been through the ceremony with a different man.
When that crucial part finally came, and the priest asked, “Do you take this man, Osbert…” she yelled, “Nay, I do not. They are forcing…ow!”
Her father twisted her wrist cruelly until she replied, “Aye. Please let go. You’re breaking my arm.”
The priest stared off into the corner, ignoring the brutality that took place directly in front of him.
Her father let go as soon as she committed to the relationship—a false promise given she was already wed to another. Osbert finished his vows, then planted a saliva-drenched kiss onto her cheek because she had turned her face at the last moment.
“I’ll speak with you outside, Osbert,” Branwen’s sire said, then glanced at her with withering contempt. “And Branwen, mayhap you’ll think before you go behind my