Page 3 of Claimed Highland Brides

UNREALISTIC EXPECTATIONS

Ùna was keeping an excited eye on the road as the rest of the Douglass girls continued with their embroidery under the watchful eye of their governess. Fiona, being the temporary head of the house, was not required to sit with the others. But there was not much else to do at this time of day and all her sisters were here. She knew from the letter her uncle sent that she did not have much time left to spend with them.

There was Jamesina who was Fiona’s follower and the spitting image of their mother with her fiery red locks and deer-wide brown eyes. The procession of freckles across her nose highlighted her resemblance to a doe. Fenella and Maisie were the terrible two, chestnut-haired twins identical down to their impish grins. They were doe-eyed too though they lacked the innocence that brightened Jamesina’s eyes. Aileen was the quiet unassuming fourth-born, coltishly tall, rail-thin, and pale. The very epitome of a shrinking violet. In spite of her height, she was a veritable wallflower. Then there was Ùna who was round with baby fat, her hazel eyes bright and interested in everything. She wore her auburn curls in two long plaits and tended to bounce about rather than walk.

Fiona loved them all as much as they loved her, and hoped that these summons to her uncle’s house would not take her away from them for too long. Now that their father had unfortunately passed away, they all looked to her for reassurance. She already missed them even though she had not left yet. She lowered her head to hide the sadness in her green eyes, a lock of red hair falling into her eyes. She flicked it back and pasted a smile on her face before turning back to her sisters, straightening her shoulders so that her slim frame stood tall and confident among them. It would not do to show weakness now.

Suddenly Ùna screamed and the rest of them immediately put down their sewing in order to crowd around the window and see what she was so happy about.

“There he is! I think that’s him! The man you will travel with.” she squealed. As the youngest amongst them, Ùna was allowed to be unbridled in her enthusiasm. The rest of them felt obligated to display a more stoic mien. Maisie and Fenella turned to Fiona. “D’ye think that it’s him? What did the letter say? He looks handsome. And strong. He’ll be able to protect us without any trouble.”

Curiosity piqued, Fiona moved to the window as well. Her uncle’s letter had simply stated that he had arranged a marriage for her and that she was to come to Dunavar at once. He would send someone to fetch her.

He had not said whether the person he was sending was the groom. She narrowed her eyes at the tall man riding straight-backed into their compound, he had long hair falling to his shoulders and he was not shaved. A claymore strapped to his side. He resembled a soldier more than a lord. Was she to travel alone with him if he was not to be her husband?

“I’m not sure who he is,” she said softly. “I suspect we shall find out soon enough.”

“Can we go down tae meet him?” Ùna barely restrained herself from jumping up and down.

“We shall wait for him tae be announced and then we gang. Have ye forgotten yer manners already?” Fiona gave her an admonishing glance even as the governess nodded approvingly.

“I’m sorry.” Ùna curled in on herself, suitably chastened. Fiona patted her on the head and then moved aside so that Aileen could pick her up and hold her in her lap, even though Ùna really was too old for that. Fiona kept watching the man as he alighted his horse with grace and strode to the door. He seemed quite sure of himself and Fiona found herself hoping that he would be her intended.

The butler came into the room to announce that they had a visitor.

“A Mr. Campbell to see ye Miss Fiona.”

“Where have ye put him?”

“In the conservatory...his boots are muddy.” He made a moue of distaste.

Fiona giggled. “Alrigh’ then. I shall go and see him.”

Jamesina immediately got to her feet. “I shall come with ye.”

Fiona was about to protest but then thought better of it. No need to be alone with the man in a way that might be misconstrued later. “Alrigh’ then, but only ye. The rest o’ ye, stay here with Miss MacKenzie.”

There was some grumbling in the room but her sisters were generally obedient and didn’t give her much trouble. She took a deep breath, leading the way to her conservatory, Jamesina at her heels. As they opened the door, the man, Mr. Campbell, swiveled around to face them, his blue eyes alert looking from one to the other.

“Which o’ ye is Miss Fiona Iseabail Douglass?” he rasped.

Fiona stiffened at his tone, which was icy and distant. Not the greeting one would hope for from a possible future husband. “I am Fiona. Pray tell, what is yer business here?”

“I am charged with collecting and delivering ye tae Laird Dunavar. He informed me that ye were expecting me.”

Fiona opened her mouth and closed it. From the way he spoke, it was as if she was merely a parcel to be shuttled from place to place. She did not like it at all.

“My uncle did write tae me. He said he would send someone tae bring me tae him. There was no talk o’ collecting or delivering.”

The man shrugged nonchalantly. “Whitevur words ye chuse tae use is fine wi’ me.”

Irritation bubbled through Fiona’s breast and her brow furrowed as she regarded him with annoyance. Such a vexing man! Looks could certainly be deceiving. He might look handsome and protective but he was just a rude oaf.

She turned sharply and sat on the bench, looking out into the garden as he slowly came towards them and sat across, blocking her view.

“So which one o’ you is the lassie to be delivered then?” he asked breezily.

Fiona narrowed her eyes at him. “I am.”