The Other Highland Laird

Brice looked keenly at her. ‘What is it? My family imposing their will on yours?’

Marion’s eyes fluttered up to Brice’s face in surprise.

‘I’m not sure what they are up to but yes, my unhappiness has to do with my family and yours.’

‘I know they want you to marry Robert.’

‘Yes. Of course you would surely know about that,’ Marion said.

‘And you do not wish to wed my brother?’

‘I do not know your brother,’ Marion said, ‘so how am I expected to make a decision about marrying him?’

Brice shrugged. ‘You can get to know him…between the betrothal and the wedding,’ he said.

‘Did they send you out here to mollify me? Do you think you can get me to consent to a union       with Robert?’

‘Consent has already been given – by your parents. Your role is to accept your lot and make the best of it. Isn’t that what you were taught?’

‘No!’ Marion hissed, ‘I had no idea that I had no say in whom I was to spend the rest of my life with.’

‘He is not a bad man, my brother,’ Brice said gently.

‘I am sure he is a very fine man indeed, but I …but I…oh never mind, I can scarcely say another word,’ Marion floundered, tears spilling onto her cheeks again, this time more profusely.

‘I am truly sorry about this. Please – do not cry Lady…’

‘Call me Marion,’ Marion said, composing herself with difficulty.

‘Marion,’ Brice said, in a way that made Marion’s heart beat more rapidly, ‘dry your eyes and go back inside or there will soon be a search party sent out for you.’ No sooner had the words left his mouth than Marion’s parents emerged with two strangers.

‘Oh no!’ Marion exclaimed in a whisper, ‘I do not wish to speak with them right now…or to have them find me here…with you.’

‘Quick,’ Brice said, taking Marion’s arm, ‘this way!’

Marion gathered her skirts into her hands and followed Brice, the darkness falling like a thick curtain between them and the search party. Brice stopped and Marion heard the click of a door.

‘Where are we?’ Marion asked anxiously.

‘Do not be afraid, this is a shed like structure outside the Chapel that we used to play in as children when it was too cold to be outdoors and ride across the moors as I loved to do.’

‘Hmmm,’ Marion said, her voice still shaky, ‘I cannot see anything at all. Where are you?’

‘Here,’ Brice said, and reached for her hand in the darkness, giving it a reassuring squeeze. A spark seemed to leap from Brice’s hand to Marion’s, and she caught her breath.

‘Are you alright?’ Brice asked, his voice unsteady.

‘Yes,’ Marion replied, ‘But how long do you think we will need to stay here?’

‘Not long,’ Brice said, his voice husky with emotion. His grip on Marion’s hand was firmer now and he pulled her gently towards him. Marion felt her body float towards Brice in the darkness, and her arms go up and around his neck as he leaned over and kissed her - finding her lips with startling accuracy despite the lack of illumination in the closed room. Brice’s lips were warm and gentle as he increased the pressure on Marion’s mouth. Their lips nestled together for what seemed like an eternal moment and neither of them moved during that simple embrace, but later Marion would run her fingers over her mouth and wonder at how such a simple gesture evoked such a stream of emotions within her young body. Brice raised his head, wishing he could see Marion’s face, and touched her cheeks, caressing them with his fingertips.

‘Do you do this to every girl you meet?’ Marion asked, her feelings tied in knots.

‘No. This is the first time I’ve ever done this…’

‘Why? Why did you kiss me?’ Marion asked, feeling foolish the moment she had asked the question.

‘I don’t know – I was following my instincts I suppose; doing what I wanted to do since I first saw you standing there outside the Chapel.’ Brice touched Marion’s hair and leaned in to kiss the top of her head. ‘That first moment that I saw you alight from the carriage, I wished desperately that you had come for me…and not for Robert.’