“And where is he now?" said laird MacLean to the young lass, who looked none too confident about being put on the spot before such a collection of nobles.
"I dinnae! I know nae his whereabouts, my laird."
"What do you mean ye know nae?" Laird MacLean appeared more upset than Lorna, which she appreciated. That had to be a good sign. It had to be an indication that he wanted the wedding and marriage to go as smoothly as she did. He even appeared embarrassed, wiping his hands on his midriff, his face flushed with disappointment.
"He was last seen in the stables, milaird, a few hours back, if I have it right. He was riding off on a horse."
"Well?" cried Laird MacLean, clapping his hands together. "Fetch him! At once!"
A short silence descended upon them as the servant boy scurried off, not unlike someone being chased by a wild animal. Lorna's heart raced a little. She hoped nothing ugly had befallen her would-be-husband.
Lady MacLean broke the silence. She cleared her throat. "Would ye like a tour before ye get settled in?" she said to Lorna. "Unless yer too tired from yer journey, in which case some rest would do ye good."
"One is never too tired for a tour," said Ma, and both women smiled at each other.
Laird MacLean excused himself. He went in the opposite direction of the hallway mumbling something about seeing to some affair or another. The women nodded at once and turned to one another after his departure.
Lady MacLean clasped a small hand on Lorna's back; making her feel strangely protected and grateful for her presence. "Shall we?" she asked.
"Lead the way, my lady," said Lorna.
After a brief tour of the castle, Lady MacLean led Lorna's mother and Fenella to their chambers. Lorna then accompanied her in pleasant silence to her own chambers.
Her future mother-in-law was a graceful, strong-looking womanbut there was something off about her, something sad, as if she was hiding a sadness she didn't want to talk about. She exuded a sense of loneliness.
She felt sorry for her.
She did not know much about the woman but she seemed kind and easygoing, and Lorna wanted to touch a hand to the her shoulder and whisk all of her worries away. "Thank ye so much, my lady," she said instead as they arrived at her chamber.
"The pleasure's all mine, my dear," she said. "I'll send a servant over. Do have a restful bath!"
"I shall."
"We'll await ye in the dining hall."
Lorna nodded and twisted the doorknob.
She was to have dinner, with the MacLeans. It was to be her first meal with her new family. Her mind raced with a million thoughts, a large brew of fear and anxiety steaming in her head, for then, she would most likely make her husband's acquaintance for the very time.
It was only upon attending the dinner that she realized she shouldn’t have been terrified because there was nothing to be terrified about. It was an extravagant affair, naturally, well-prepared and bountiful, with mouth-watering courses and the finest wine that Lorna had ever tasted.
However, Arran MacLean did not grace them with his presence yet again.
"A splendid meal, my lady," said Lady MacKenzie awkwardly. She was trying to fill the silence. They were all trying to fill the silence, the large hole that Arran's absence and obvious disregard for their arrival had left at the table. However, nothing seemed to smooth over his rudeness, nor wave the humiliation away, much as they tried.
Lorna swallowed hard. She felt like a terrible nut was stuck in her throat. She clenched her fork to keep her hands from shaking.
She hadn't been this furious in a long time.
"Lorna," whispered Ma beside her, her voice coming out through clenched teeth.
"Maither," said Lorna through clenched teeth of her own.
"Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"Yer making a face."