Despair sat in the pit of her stomach and she drew her shoulders up, refusing to succumb to such thoughts. As much as last night had been a mistake, Finn lent her a sense of strength and she was going to fight these demons and claim back her life on Bute. The thought of her seeing her friends again sent warmth to replace the anguish and she smiled.
***
Stretching her spindly arms, Tèile frowned as she spotted Catriona’s smile. She turned and peered out the gap in the shutters and grimaced. Dawn had been and gone and Tèile had slept the entire night. Watching, waiting and following took its toll on her delicate wings and had fatigued her. She suspected the boredom wearied her most of all. A faery really wasn’t made for just sitting around and biding her time. However, in a few days’ time she could put her plans into action and encourage Finn and Catriona’s first kiss. A few dreams and a little accident or two—maybe Catriona could trip into Finn’s arms—and fate would be on track. Finn would be so enamoured, he would surely challenge Laird Gillean for her hand.
She peered at the woman again and narrowed her eyes. Tèile recognised that smile. She’d seen it on Alana’s face. And that glazed look in her eyes…. The faery curled her hands and shook her head. Something had happened. Her fingertips tingled as if fate had truly slipped from her hands over night.
Something had happened. Something had changed.
***
Catriona yelped and the seamstress, Beth, murmured an apology. Resisting the urge to rub her side, she kept her arms raised as Beth fitted the pale blue material to her body.
Lorna nodded approvingly. “Ye suit this shade, Katelyn.”
The afternoon sun warmed the solar, enhancing the plush red fabrics of Lorna’s chambers. Gold embroidery and pearls reflected the sunlight, and gilded Lorna’s fair hair. It struck her how at home the lady appeared in this warm room, surrounded by an intricately carved bed and ornate iron candelabras.
Unlike her.
Fingering the silk, Catriona crushed a sigh. This gown meant she was one step closer to marrying Gillean. It sat heavily on her hips, threatened to weigh her down. Or was that the thought of her impending nuptials?
The seamstress came to her feet and stepped back. “’Twill take me a few days to finish the embroidery,” she told Lorna.
Indignation heated Catriona’s skin. How long would she have to stand around and accept her fate being dictated by others? The laird was funding their wedding and as such, Lorna had taken on all the preparations. With her naturally commanding nature, Lorna thrived on such tasks and had it been anything else, Catriona might have been grateful to her, but not on this—not when it was her future.
“What troubles ye?” Lorna’s brow furrowed. “Do ye no’ like the colour? Blue is traditional for brides.”
“Nay, the colour doesnae trouble me.”
Lorna took a step forward and grasped Catriona’s hand. “Tell me,” she said quietly, “are ye nervous? I know yer mother passed when ye were young. I can offer ye a word or two....”
Now Lorna surely had to see the warmth in her cheeks. “Nay, nay, ‘tis nae that. I know well enough what…” She glanced at Beth and Lorna motioned for her to leave. With a curtsey, the woman scurried away and closed the door to the solar. The creaking hinges made Catriona wince.
Lorna urged her to sit on the bed and sat beside her. Catriona ran her fingers over the thick blanket, unable to meet Lorna’s gaze. The last thing she needed to be thinking of was the marriage bed, not after how Finn had kissed her. Not now that all she thought on was his powerful arms and strong hands and how enticing they might be against her skin.
“I am aware I’m only a few summers older than ye but should ye need anyone….”
Guilt jabbed her. Lorna had shown her nothing but kindness. Her only sin was being connected by marriage to an ungodly man. Catriona offered her a small smile. “I thank ye, Lorna, for yer care and hospitality. However, I dinnae need any advice. I may not be worldly, but I am no fool either.”
Lorna laughed suddenly. “I dinnae think ye a fool at all, Katelyn. Far from it. But ye are clearly no’ happy here. Would that I could offer ye some comfort. I know I should have liked some kind words before my own marriage. Indeed the only person I know not to have suffered an arranged marriage was Finn.”
“Finn is married?”
“Was.”
Catriona managed to stop the sigh of relief releasing. To think she might have been lusting after another’s husband! Finn had told her much of his life at Glencolum on their journey. He described the castle, his cottage and lands with such a smile on his face that it made her long to visit. But he had lost a wife. No wonder he never made mention of it.