The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(11)

“But if anything goes wrong—”

“Nothing will go wrong,” Christina said firmly. She hoped. It was a simple plan, but neither of them had ever attempted anything like this before and they couldn’t take the chance of involving anyone else. If Alex had traveled with them they might have asked him to help, but he’d been sent to join their cousin Simon, one of Robert Bruce’s closest companions. She looked into her sister’s troubled face. “You want to go to Iona, don’t you?”

Beatrix’s entire expression changed, her face transformed by a heavenly light that took Christina’s breath away. “Of course I do. It’s an answer to a prayer, except that never even in my dreams did I imagine it would be possible.” Beatrix sighed. “Just think, the nunnery at Iona. Surely, it must be the most holy place in all of Scotland?”

“We shall find out,” Christina said with a smile. Though she did not share her sister’s religious devotion, it was impossible not to get swept up in the excitement. They would be safe. That was all that mattered. For two young women, there were precious few options available. If the choice was between marriage to a barbarian and a nunnery, it was an easy decision.

But part of her wondered …

“Are you sure you want to do this, Chrissi?” Her sister’s pale blue eyes slid over her face. “This is my dream, not yours. I’ve no wish to marry, but can you say the same?” Christina slammed her mouth closed; at times Beatrix had an uncanny ability to read her mind. “What about your knights?” she added softly.

Christina kept her eyes fixed on the path in front of them. She’d regaled her sister with too many romantic stories to even attempt to feign ignorance at what she was getting at. “They’re stories, Bea. Just stories. I never thought of that for myself.” Dreaming didn’t count. “Marriage for women in our position is to secure alliances, not for love. I’d rather spend my life reading about romance than locked in marriage to a man …” Her voice fell off.

“To a man like father,” Beatrix finished gently.

Christina nodded. Aye, the man who thought her no better than a dog to kick. She hated the fear that her father had instilled in her. Fear that came not only from pain but also from powerlessness. Never had she felt the fate of being a woman so cruelly. If her father—or her husband—wanted to thrash her senseless, no one would gainsay his right to do so.

That realization made her all the more certain that what they were doing was right. She couldn’t just sit back and wait, while her father offered them up like two juicy lambs to the slaughter. If there were a chance to avoid that fate for herself and her sister, she would take it.

“I know you are only doing this because you are trying to protect me. But I’m older—I’m the one who should be protecting you.” Beatrix drew up her slender shoulders. “I’m stronger than I look. I could …” She fought back tears through a wobbly smile. “Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.”

Christina stopped in her tracks, grasping hold of her sister’s shoulders to turn and face her, taking care not to clasp her too hard. Beatrix bruised as easily as a rose petal. Her sister might be taller than her by nearly half a foot, but her delicate build made her seem much smaller. Christina was all round curves to Beatrix’s fine lines.

Despite the cloudless sky, a cold shadow swept over her as she looked at her sister. Pale, ethereal, fragile. Unbearably fragile. Not just in appearance but in her life’s breath. Sometimes it seemed as if Beatrix had one foot in heaven already—that each moment with her was a precious gift that could be taken at any time.

The thought of losing her sister made Christina’s chest burn. For as long as she could remember, there had been only the two of them. Their mother had died not long after the birth of their youngest brother, and their brothers had been sent away when they were very young. Beatrix was all she had, and Christina would do anything to protect her.

Her throat swelled with emotion, knowing that her sister would do the same. She could only imagine what those brave words had cost her. “I’m not doing this just for you, but for both of us.” She read the uncertainty in her sister’s gaze. Realizing that giving voice to her own fears might help, she swallowed and said softly, “I’m just as scared as you are, Bea. I’ve no wish to marry one of these men any more than you do.”

“You’re certain?” Beatrix asked hesitantly.

Christina nodded with a smile. “Positive.” She lifted up on her toes and placed a kiss on her sister’s cheek. “Now, if we are to have time to change before the feast, we’d better hurry.”

They resumed walking, continuing their way along the slippery rock pathway and onto the big island. Finlaggan was uniquely situated, spread out between two small islands on an inland loch, connected to the mainland by stone causeways. Located about fifty feet from shore and surrounded by tall wooden fortifications, Eilean Mor, the big island, housed most of the castle buildings, including the Great Hall, St. Findlugan’s Chapel, and the armory, smith, and barracks. At the far end of Eilean Mor was another stone causeway, this one much longer, perhaps a hundred yards in length, connecting the big island to a small crannog—a man-made island—which housed the council chamber and MacDonald’s new tower house. The mist that had cloaked the morning had slowly dissipated, though it had yet to dry completely from the ground. But she could just make out the formidable keep in the distance.