with him!"
"And I say you will!" her father roared, losing his patience at last. "You're still my child, my firstborn and heir. The welfare o' our clan, nay, its very survival, is now in your hands. You know where your duty lies."
He pointed toward the door. "Now go, and not another word from you. The ceremony will commence at midday. The Wolf wishes to depart immediately thereafter, so see to your preparations. I don't wish to discuss this further!"
Anne opened her mouth to protest then, seeing the tense, rigid expression on her father's face, thought better of it. It was no use, she realized. It would all be the same in the end. She couldn't refuse her father in a matter such as this.
He was right. She did know her duty. She was MacGregor and the plight of an entire clan mattered more than her own wishes. But to handfast with a man such as Niall Campbell!
With a choking sob, Anne ran from the room.
The ensuing hours until midday flew by in a flurry of activity. From a place far removed, Anne watched the preparations for her departure. Her gowns were carefully folded, her slippers and small collection of jewelry wrapped in soft cloths, her beloved clarsach safely tucked among them all.
A heavy pain settled around her heart. Would there ever be reason to strum the curved wooden harp in Kilchurn Castle?
Soon, nothing remained save the traveling gown of deep emerald velvet and a heavy woolen cape to ward against the blustering spring winds. Her entire life, Anne mused sadly, had quickly condensed into a few bulky parcels.
One last time, she walked out into the keep's private garden. The sturdier plants that had over-wintered were beginning to sprout fresh shoots of green. Her beloved herbs. Life-giving, heart-and-body soothing. Would there be a place for them in her new life?
A sob rose in Anne's throat. In but the span of a few hours her life had completely changed. Now, she was a helpless pawn to be manipulated at the whim of others. The freedom, the control she'd once had, were now lovely illusions.
Aye, illusions indeed, Anne thought , for they were never more than that in anyone's mind but my own. I've never had any power over my life save what was permitted me .
She knelt to brush a bit of dirt gently from a chamomile plant. Soon their delicate, daisy-like flowers will bloom, Anne mused wistfully, and I'll not be here to see them .
The realization stirred something, firing her resolve, feeding her wounded spirit. She rose to her feet, her hands clenched at her sides. Let them all be damned! Though the circumstances of her life may have changed, why should she relinquish her life's work? The censure of others had never stopped her before. Why should it do so now?
She'd risked death for a long while now. Even in Campbell lands, there was nothing more they could threaten her with than that.
Anne hurried away, soon returning with a trowel and an empty wooden box. A grim smile on her lips, she carefully dug up a sampling of every herb in her garden and placed it in the container. Somehow, someway, she'd find a spot to transplant and grow her precious friends at Kilchurn Castle. She had to. In some symbolic manner, their rebirth would also assure hers.
An hour later Anne stood in her father's chamber, dressed in the green gown with fitted bodice and tight sleeves with their trailing edges, her hair gathered in a pearl-studded snood and topped with a small green velvet cap. Her only jewelry, in deference to the journey ahead, was a long pearl necklace, knotted just below the high-collared neckline. Nervously, her glance scanned the empty room as she waited for her father, who had gone with Niall Campbell to fetch one of his men as witness to the impending ceremony.
She jumped at the heavy tread of footsteps in the hallway. Before Anne had a chance to compose herself, the door swung open. In walked her father, followed closely by Niall Campbell and another man. Anne swallowed hard and forced her gaze to meet that
"And I say you will!" her father roared, losing his patience at last. "You're still my child, my firstborn and heir. The welfare o' our clan, nay, its very survival, is now in your hands. You know where your duty lies."
He pointed toward the door. "Now go, and not another word from you. The ceremony will commence at midday. The Wolf wishes to depart immediately thereafter, so see to your preparations. I don't wish to discuss this further!"
Anne opened her mouth to protest then, seeing the tense, rigid expression on her father's face, thought better of it. It was no use, she realized. It would all be the same in the end. She couldn't refuse her father in a matter such as this.
He was right. She did know her duty. She was MacGregor and the plight of an entire clan mattered more than her own wishes. But to handfast with a man such as Niall Campbell!
With a choking sob, Anne ran from the room.
The ensuing hours until midday flew by in a flurry of activity. From a place far removed, Anne watched the preparations for her departure. Her gowns were carefully folded, her slippers and small collection of jewelry wrapped in soft cloths, her beloved clarsach safely tucked among them all.
A heavy pain settled around her heart. Would there ever be reason to strum the curved wooden harp in Kilchurn Castle?
Soon, nothing remained save the traveling gown of deep emerald velvet and a heavy woolen cape to ward against the blustering spring winds. Her entire life, Anne mused sadly, had quickly condensed into a few bulky parcels.
One last time, she walked out into the keep's private garden. The sturdier plants that had over-wintered were beginning to sprout fresh shoots of green. Her beloved herbs. Life-giving, heart-and-body soothing. Would there be a place for them in her new life?
A sob rose in Anne's throat. In but the span of a few hours her life had completely changed. Now, she was a helpless pawn to be manipulated at the whim of others. The freedom, the control she'd once had, were now lovely illusions.
Aye, illusions indeed, Anne thought , for they were never more than that in anyone's mind but my own. I've never had any power over my life save what was permitted me .
She knelt to brush a bit of dirt gently from a chamomile plant. Soon their delicate, daisy-like flowers will bloom, Anne mused wistfully, and I'll not be here to see them .
The realization stirred something, firing her resolve, feeding her wounded spirit. She rose to her feet, her hands clenched at her sides. Let them all be damned! Though the circumstances of her life may have changed, why should she relinquish her life's work? The censure of others had never stopped her before. Why should it do so now?
She'd risked death for a long while now. Even in Campbell lands, there was nothing more they could threaten her with than that.
Anne hurried away, soon returning with a trowel and an empty wooden box. A grim smile on her lips, she carefully dug up a sampling of every herb in her garden and placed it in the container. Somehow, someway, she'd find a spot to transplant and grow her precious friends at Kilchurn Castle. She had to. In some symbolic manner, their rebirth would also assure hers.
An hour later Anne stood in her father's chamber, dressed in the green gown with fitted bodice and tight sleeves with their trailing edges, her hair gathered in a pearl-studded snood and topped with a small green velvet cap. Her only jewelry, in deference to the journey ahead, was a long pearl necklace, knotted just below the high-collared neckline. Nervously, her glance scanned the empty room as she waited for her father, who had gone with Niall Campbell to fetch one of his men as witness to the impending ceremony.
She jumped at the heavy tread of footsteps in the hallway. Before Anne had a chance to compose herself, the door swung open. In walked her father, followed closely by Niall Campbell and another man. Anne swallowed hard and forced her gaze to meet that
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