The Highlander's Arranged Marriage: Highland Legacies by Aileen Adams

Author:Aileen Adams
Language: eng
Format: epub

The carriage ride back to her childhood home was quiet and uneventful. Angus had dressed himself simply in a new shirt and kilt, his sword and dirk strapped ceremonially to the belt at his hips. It was a lengthy ride, and he spent it with his eyes out the window, as if mesmerized by the countryside. Iris wondered how long it had been since he had left the confines of his lands and traveled outside of his more comfortable haunts.

Iris found her eyes on the surrounding landscape as well. She’d been so intent on getting away from her mother that she hadn’t paid much attention to the route a few days prior. With her mare at full gallop, she’d covered far more ground than she could have guessed to get the McDowell keep. The carriage was going slower than her break-neck speed, and it was some time before the view from her windows turned to more familiar territories and then eventually into the rolling hills of berry bushes she knew so well.

“A-Angus,” she said, gently tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. “We are almost h-home.”

“Mm?” He turned to follow her gaze out her window. “Good. It has taken long enough,” he said grumpily.

She narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t bother to respond to his complaint. She looked back outside, watching as her family manor house rose up in the distance on the horizon, the barns and storehouses of the winery not far from its walls. Within moments, the carriage was pulling in front of the roadside inn, nestled in the valley below the estate proper.

“We’ve arrived,” Thomas called out from the driver’s box as they rolled to a stop.

“Let’s get this over with,” Angus said without looking at her. He reached across and opened the door, waving for Iris to exit first. She looked down at the narrow step and was happy to see Thomas appear in front of her, offering her his hand.

She stepped down without any help from Angus, who followed in her wake.

“Ye have the-the papers?” she asked.

“Aye,” he replied, patting his sporran. The document must have been folded up inside the pouch.

Iris nodded. “Then, let’s g-go.” Setting her face with a look of determination, she crossed the remainder of the road and pushed open the doors of her family’s tavern. The familiar scents and sounds of a midday meal in the building flooded her senses. The clatter of forks against pewter plates. The clinking of tankards. The gentle roar of twenty or so voices in quiet conversation. The air smelled of fresh-baked bread, sour ale, and travel-worn bodies. To some, it might have been distracting, but to her, it was comforting. This, more so than even the manor up the hill, was her home.

As she and Angus paused for a moment at the threshold, a few of the closer tables went silent as they raised their eyes to the newcomers.

“Iris, lass—is that ye?” one of the men at the nearby table called out, standing up from his seat.

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