Kilts and Kisses by Victoria Roberts Page B

when he comes to turn the wet cloth.”
    Anna’s jaw dropped. “Ye’re jesting with me.”
    “Oh, on the contrary, I’m quite serious, my dear. That’s exactly how I knew I was destined to wed your Uncle John. Now that’s enough of this quarreling, all of ye. I’ve heard enough to last the rest of my days.” Aunt Marta turned on her heel as Sorcha rested her gaze on Ceana.
    “Let me make something clear to the both of ye,” their cousin said. “I will wed the most powerful laird in the Highlands to benefit our clan because I am the laird’s daughter. My marriage will bring with it alliances and prosperity for many generations to come. So the two of ye better nae do anything foolish. And if ye continue to put obstacles in my path, I’ll nae only remove them, I’ll remove the both of ye.”
    As Sorcha waved her hand in a dismissive gesture and bristled off, Anna poked her elbow into Ceana’s arm. “What are we going to do about her?”
    “I donna know, but if she doesnae mind her words, I’m going to throttle her.”
    “I’m glad to hear it because frankly, I’ve been fretting over ye lately, Sister. Ye’ve put up with Sorcha’s vile behavior long enough. I’m relieved to see ye still have some of Father’s tenacity within ye.”
    Ceana lifted a brow. “Father? I assure ye that I am my mother’s daughter. Ye donna remember all the times Mother put Uncle John in his place when he disagreed with the decisions Father had made for the clan?”
    “Uncle John? Nay. When?”
    “‘Tisnae important. What is important is that ye continue with your studies. There is nay greater gift than the gift of knowledge.”

    C eana lit the candles in her bedchamber, donned her nightrail, and drew back the heavy curtains to see moonlight shining through the slit in the stone wall. Leaning closer, she looked through the hole. The moon was full and high in the night sky.
    She sat on the bed and pulled out her journal from under the feather mattress. As she opened the page to the entry she’d made from the evening before, she sighed. Sorcha was two years younger than Ceana and only a year older than Anna. So why were Uncle John and Aunt Marta arranging a marriage for Sorcha now? Her cousin had said the words herself. She was the laird’s daughter. It didn’t matter how old Ceana was because her father was dead. She was no longer the laird’s daughter. That right now belonged to Sorcha, a fact she wouldn’t let Ceana forget any time soon.
    Glancing down at her journal, Ceana didn’t see any words on the page. That revelation came as no surprise. She knew she’d never be able to pen a single word this eve. She closed the book and placed it on the bed. Bringing her knees to her chest, she rested her chin on top and closed her eyes.
    “ Fuirich mionaid. ” Wait a moment. “I refuse to let Sorcha plague me. ‘Tis madness.” Ceana flew to her feet, donned her slippers, grabbed her cloak from the corner chair, and bolted out the door. She needed air and would not permit herself to be suffocated by her own dire thoughts.
    Making her way through the halls of the castle, she saw that the main torches were extinguished, but a few remained lit to guide her. She knew the servants had retired to their chambers long ago. As she was passing the wall where her father’s portrait used to hang, she scoffed at her Uncle John’s likeness that now hung in its place. Becoming even more incensed, she walked with long, purposeful strides. She couldn’t reach her destination soon enough.
    She climbed the narrow, winding steps to the parapet. It was engulfed in blackness, which suited her darkened mood fine. The only reason she didn’t fall and break her neck was because she placed her hands on the stone walls at each side to guide her. When she reached the top of the stairs, she opened the door.
    Ceana stood in the same spot she always did, and the moon was so bright that it illuminated her father’s lands. She could even see the