about last night? Her father watched her with a sad and disappointed expression, while her aunt glowered, thin fingers twitching. Finlay regarded all of them with the bemused air he often adopted. He, at least, would not condemn her.
Clearly they surmised the worst. She felt a sinking sense of dread and humiliation. An earl would never offer to marry a minister's daughter after a brief acquaintance, except in a case of utter scandal.
She and Evan both knew that there was reason enough for scandal and reason enough for marriage. They had shared a night of adventure and compassionate desire, but now they were caught like fish on a righteous hook.
She certainly did not want to marry him. But she had overheard what was said before they all saw her standing there, and she did not want to leave Glenachan and Glen Shee. And with Grant's murmured threats still echoing in her head, she simply did not know what to do.
"Miss MacConn." Lord Kildonan—she could not erase his title from her mind—came closer and took her hand before she could run. The intimate touch of his warm skin over hers, for neither wore gloves, conjured a precious reminder of last night.
She had wanted to keep those memories safe and private to nourish her for the rest of her lonely life at Glenachan. Now they had been taken from her, open to discussion and judgement.
But he was not the dear Mr. Mackenzie who had held her in his arms so tenderly. He was the son of the hated Earl of Kildonan and even more a stranger to her now. She could not trust him any longer. She had been a fool, drawn in by his charm.
Grant had said that Evan truly intended to sell off much of the land, leaving Kildonan Castle and the glen in the hands of others. Marrying him would mean leaving the glen with her husband—she could not do that, nor could she support his decision to sell.
"No," she said suddenly, pulling her hand out of his. "No!"
"Hear me out," he said fervently, quietly.
"No," she hissed. "I cannot marry you!" She whirled away, but he caught her arm and held her in place. That hard grip reminded her of struggling with Kenneth Grant only minutes before, and she twisted more desperately.
"Catriona, stop," Evan said. His hand was firm, but not violent, and strangely calming. She drew a breath, stilled.
"Catriona, whatever is the matter?" Judith Rennie rose from her seat. "Behave yourself."
"Lass, this is the best thing," her father said, his voice a powerful rumble where he sat at his great desk. "I am glad to have you safe, of course—my lass, I feared for your life on that mountain. You know that. But I cannot condone the rest of it, and I will not have my youngest daughter behaving in such a wild manner. Lord Kildonan has offered to marry you. I want you to accept."
"It is the only way to make up for this shameful situation," Judith Rennie said.
"No." She probably sounded like a child, and she certainly felt like a fool, controlled and forced into a loveless marriage. She wrenched her arm again, and this time Evan released his hold.
Spinning, she gathered her skirts and ran down the hallway. At the stairs, she streamed upward, skirts floating, feet flying.
Footsteps thudded behind her, and she looked back to see Evan striding down the hallway, his face creased—not in anger so much as utter determination.
"Catriona!" he called, his deep voice reverberating throughout the house as his steps pounded toward the stairs.
Chapter 9
The sound of more pounding feet told her that the others followed Evan. Reaching the top of the steps, Catriona hurried down the corridor to her bedroom, opening the door and spinning to close it quickly. As she did, she glimpsed Evan, Aunt Judith, and her father coming up the stairs.
She slammed the door and leaned against it, breath heaving. Behaving like a spoiled girl was completely unlike her—generally she was always outwardly calm and kept her feelings to herself—yet she had done this almost compulsively, reacting out of
Clearly they surmised the worst. She felt a sinking sense of dread and humiliation. An earl would never offer to marry a minister's daughter after a brief acquaintance, except in a case of utter scandal.
She and Evan both knew that there was reason enough for scandal and reason enough for marriage. They had shared a night of adventure and compassionate desire, but now they were caught like fish on a righteous hook.
She certainly did not want to marry him. But she had overheard what was said before they all saw her standing there, and she did not want to leave Glenachan and Glen Shee. And with Grant's murmured threats still echoing in her head, she simply did not know what to do.
"Miss MacConn." Lord Kildonan—she could not erase his title from her mind—came closer and took her hand before she could run. The intimate touch of his warm skin over hers, for neither wore gloves, conjured a precious reminder of last night.
She had wanted to keep those memories safe and private to nourish her for the rest of her lonely life at Glenachan. Now they had been taken from her, open to discussion and judgement.
But he was not the dear Mr. Mackenzie who had held her in his arms so tenderly. He was the son of the hated Earl of Kildonan and even more a stranger to her now. She could not trust him any longer. She had been a fool, drawn in by his charm.
Grant had said that Evan truly intended to sell off much of the land, leaving Kildonan Castle and the glen in the hands of others. Marrying him would mean leaving the glen with her husband—she could not do that, nor could she support his decision to sell.
"No," she said suddenly, pulling her hand out of his. "No!"
"Hear me out," he said fervently, quietly.
"No," she hissed. "I cannot marry you!" She whirled away, but he caught her arm and held her in place. That hard grip reminded her of struggling with Kenneth Grant only minutes before, and she twisted more desperately.
"Catriona, stop," Evan said. His hand was firm, but not violent, and strangely calming. She drew a breath, stilled.
"Catriona, whatever is the matter?" Judith Rennie rose from her seat. "Behave yourself."
"Lass, this is the best thing," her father said, his voice a powerful rumble where he sat at his great desk. "I am glad to have you safe, of course—my lass, I feared for your life on that mountain. You know that. But I cannot condone the rest of it, and I will not have my youngest daughter behaving in such a wild manner. Lord Kildonan has offered to marry you. I want you to accept."
"It is the only way to make up for this shameful situation," Judith Rennie said.
"No." She probably sounded like a child, and she certainly felt like a fool, controlled and forced into a loveless marriage. She wrenched her arm again, and this time Evan released his hold.
Spinning, she gathered her skirts and ran down the hallway. At the stairs, she streamed upward, skirts floating, feet flying.
Footsteps thudded behind her, and she looked back to see Evan striding down the hallway, his face creased—not in anger so much as utter determination.
"Catriona!" he called, his deep voice reverberating throughout the house as his steps pounded toward the stairs.
Chapter 9
The sound of more pounding feet told her that the others followed Evan. Reaching the top of the steps, Catriona hurried down the corridor to her bedroom, opening the door and spinning to close it quickly. As she did, she glimpsed Evan, Aunt Judith, and her father coming up the stairs.
She slammed the door and leaned against it, breath heaving. Behaving like a spoiled girl was completely unlike her—generally she was always outwardly calm and kept her feelings to herself—yet she had done this almost compulsively, reacting out of
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