An Auctioned Bride (Highland Heartbeats #4)(26)
After a few minutes, the deer calmly walked away, flicking its tail, ears twitching as it disappeared back into the woods.
Dalla stared after it for a moment and then looked up into the sky, a forlorn expression on her face. He had intended to go hunting, but now that she was in a reflective, if not pensive mood, maybe it would be a good time to approach, perhaps encourage her to talk about herself and how she had ended up as a captive bound for Scotland.
Slowly, he emerged from the tree line. After a moment, she noticed and stiffened, turning to stare, as wary of him as the deer had been of her.
He noted the change in her demeanor, hands folded in her lap, the softness disappearing from her face, uncertain now.
Her only movement as he neared her was a definite swallow, an indication of her sense of unease.
He couldn't read her expression as he stopped in front of her, watching, wondering if she would bolt or stay put.
She sighed and stayed put, looking up at him, one eyebrow lifting slightly.
“I have some questions.”
She said nothing, but continued to stare up at him.
“I know your name, Dalla Jorstad, but I know nothing about you or how you ended up here. You will tell me.”
She said nothing for several moments, and then finally replied. “Does it matter?”
He frowned. “You are my wife now. It matters.”
She made a face and turned away, but otherwise didn't move.
He abruptly sat down on the log beside her.
She stiffened more, glanced askance at him, the frown deepening, but didn't move. She was stubborn and willful, but he could be stubborn too.
He looked up at the sky. Not yet noon. “I will remain here, and so will you, until you tell me.”
And so, they sat. The minutes, and then the hours passed. The sun had reached its zenith and dipped toward mid-afternoon before she finally huffed a disgruntled sigh, and turned to stare at him.
“Don't you have anything to do?”
He shook his head. “I'm still waiting.”
He caught the uncertainty on her face. Likely asking herself why she should tell him anything, why it even mattered. He wasn't quite sure himself, but they were married now, for good or naught, and he wanted to know. He and Elyse, after they had gotten to know one another a little better, had shared much together. He witnessed the camaraderie between Phillip and Sarah, and Jake and Heather. Even though Maccay's marriage was still new, there was kinship between them as well. He admitted to himself that he wanted that. He wanted that sense of companionship, of knowledge, of trust with his new if unwilling bride. Due to their circumstances, he couldn't expect her to trust him completely, but maybe in time, she would.
Finally, she relented. She started hesitantly, pausing for brief periods of time between short bursts of information.
“You know my name. My… my mother died a long time ago, when I was a young child. My father seemed to resent me for that.”
He bit back the urge to ask questions. He would let her tell her story first.
“He has mostly ignored me for most of my life, until this past year. Several months ago, he told me that he had arranged a marriage for me. I refused. He was not pleased. Eventually, he informed me he would send me away, to a convent in France.”
Her tone was cool, detached, but as Hugh glanced at her hands, he saw she clasped them so hard in her lap that her knuckles had grown white with tension. It was obvious to him that she was holding back her true emotions. A convent? Her father had threatened to send her to a convent?
“I didn't really mind the idea of living in the seclusion of a convent.” She offered a slight shrug. “At least that way, I would be away from my father's ever-growing disapproval, as well as that of my uncle. My uncle has his eyes set on furthering his own importance with the crown… there is no doubt that my father shares his aspirations as well, hence the attempt to marry me off.”
She abruptly paused and sucked in a breath.
He looked at her now pale features and frowned. “The crown? Why would he think that any marriage you entered would further his purposes with the crown? Unless he is pushing you to marry a member of the royal family. Is that it?”
She didn't reply for several moments, but then, shoulders slightly slumped, she shook her head.
“Then what?” he prompted.
“I am a member of the royal family.”
He stared at her for several moments, stunned. “You are a member of the Norwegian family?”
She nodded.
He was struck dumb with amazement. The Duncan clan was no stranger to the feuds between the Scots and the Norwegians. Jake had been injured in the Battle of Largs, fighting under Scottish King Alexander III, son of King Alexander II, and grandson of William the Lion. Alexander II and King Hakkon IV of Norway were only a few years apart in age, and both had feuded and warred with one another for years over land disputes.
“My family did not live at the royal household, but my father and uncle were—and are—still involved with much of the political aspects. Even so, it's my maternal line that has the closest relationships and connections to the throne. Even after my mother died, my father continued to make his presence known at court. I always felt he was forever trying to ingratiate himself with my mother's side of the family, but I distanced myself from it. However, my uncle must have likely assumed that any marriage, and ultimate issue from that marriage, would precede him, at least in opportunities to inherit more power. I am sure that my uncle was behind my father's arranging a marriage with me to a man who was unlikely to produce an heir.”