"You'd best be on your way, for I'm sure you have a good distance to cover before the day is finished."

She almost added that it had been a pleasure to meet him, but the lie would have cost her another novena so she kept silent.

Jamie had just reached the table when her husband's hard command stopped her cold.

"Gather your things and say farewell to your family, Jamie, while Daniel and I see to the horses. Be quick about it."

"You as well, Mary," Daniel interjected in that cheerful voice of his that was beginning to drive Jamie wild.

"Why must we hurry?" Mary asked.

"Alec and I have vowed not to sleep on English soil another night. We've a good distance to cover before darkness sets in."

Jamie whirled around just in time to watch the two Scotsmen walk out of the room. Her hands gripped the table edge behind her back. "Kincaid? You're supposed to leave me here," she called out. "This is just a marriage of convenience, isn't it?"

He stopped in the center of the hallway, then turned around to face her. "Aye, wife, it is a marriage of convenience. My convenience. Do you understand me?"

She ignored his angry tone of voice and his harsh expression. "No, Kincaid, I don't understand."

She'd tried to sound as arrogant as he looked, yet knew her effort was ruined by the tremor in her voice.

Her bluster of anger didn't fool him. He knew she was frightened; his smile told her so. "In time I promise that you will understand. I give you my word."

She didn't want his word, but she didn't think that was going to matter very much to him. He really was a warlord from hell, after all. She wasn't up to arguing with him, either. Her eyes filled with tears just as soon as he disappeared out the doorway, and all she wanted to do was throw herself into the closest chair and have a good cry.

She was too upset to think about gathering her possessions. The twins took care of that task, allowing Jamie precious time with her father.

By the time Agnes and Alice returned to the great hall, Mary was in a fine state of nerves. She could barely stammer out her farewell before rushing out of the room.

"I'll have the rest of your things packed carefully, Jamie, and sent on to you within a week's time," Agnes vowed. "These Highlands can't be very far away."

"I'll pack your beautiful tapestries," Alice interjected. "I promise I won't forget anything. In no time at all you'll be feeling right at home."

"Alice, I already told Jamie I'd take care of that chore," Agnes muttered.

"Honestly, sister, you're always trying to better me. Oh, Jamie? I put your mama's shawl in your satchel with your medicine jars."

"Thank you, sisters," Jamie said. She quickly hugged them both. "Oh, I'm going to miss you two. You're such dear sisters."

"Jamie, you're so very brave," Agnes whispered. "You look so calm, so serene.

I'd be daft by now. You're married to the one who-"

"You needn't remind her," Alice muttered. "She couldn't have forgotten he killed his first wife, sister."

"We aren't absolutely sure," her twin argued.

Jamie wished the twins would stop trying to comfort her.

Their reminders about Alec Kincaid were making her more upset than ever.

Baron Jamison tugged on Jamie's skirt to get her attention. "I'll be dead in a week, I will. Who will see to my meals? Who will listen to my stories?"

"Now, Papa, Agnes and Alice will take good care of you. You're going to be just fine," she soothed. She bent over her father, kissed his forehead, and then added, "Please don't carry on so. Mary and I will come to see you and…"

She couldn't finish her lie, couldn't tell her father it was going to be all right. Her world had just ended; everything that was familiar and safe was being snatched away.

It was Agnes who whispered Jamie's greatest fear aloud. "We're never going to see you again, are we, Jamie? He won't let you come home, will he?"

"I promise you I'll find a way to come and see you," Jamie vowed. Her voice shook and her eyes stung with unshed tears. Dear God, this leave-taking was painful.

Baron Jamison kept muttering between his sobs that the Scots had robbed him of his precious babies and how in God's name was he ever going to get along without them? Although Jamie tried to console her father, in the end it proved to be a useless undertaking. Papa didn't want to quiet down. The more Jamie tried, the louder he wailed.

Beak came to fetch her. A small tug-of-war resulted when he tried to separate father from daughter. Baron Jamison wouldn't let go of Jamie's hand. The task was finally won when Jamie gave assistance.

"Come along, Jamie. 'Tis best not to anger your new husband. He's waiting patiently in the courtyard for you. Lord Daniel and Lady Mary have already started toward Scotland, lass. Come with me now. A new life awaits you."

Beak's soft voice helped to soothe Jamie. She took hold of his hand and walked by his side toward the entrance. When she paused to give her family one last farewell, Beak nudged her forward.

"Don't be looking back, Jamie. And quit your shivering. Start thinking about your happy future."

"It's my future that has me shivering," Jamie confessed.

"Beak, I don't know anything about this husband of mine. All the black rumors about him make me worry. I don't want to be married to him."

"What's done is done," Beak announced. "There's two ways to look at this, lass.

You can go into this marriage with your eyes closed tight against your man and be miserable for the rest of your days, or you can open them real wide, accept your husband, and make the best of your life."

"I don't want to hate him."

Beak smiled. Jamie had sounded so pitifully forlorn. "Then don't hate him," he advised. "You ain't any good at hating anyway. Your heart's too tender, girl.

Besides," he continued as he nudged her farther ahead, "it ain't so unordinary after all."

"What isn't so unordinary?"

"Many a bride goes to her wedding without knowing her mate."

"But those brides were English, Beak, marrying Englishmen."

"Hush, now," Beak ordered, hearing the fear in her voice. "He's a good man, this Kincaid. I took his measure, Jamie. He'll treat you right."

"How would you know that?" Jamie asked. She tried to stop and turn to face Beak but he kept nudging her forward. "There's that rumor, if you'll remember, that he killed his first wife."

"And you believe it?"

Her answer was immediate. "I don't."

"Why not?"

Jamie shrugged. "I can't explain it," she whispered. "I just think he wouldn't…"

She let out a sigh, then added, "You'll think me daft, Beak, but his eyes… well, he isn't an evil man."

"I happen to know for fact it's a lie," Beak announced. "He didn't kill her. I put the question to him, Jamie, asked him right out."

"You didn't." His outrageous statement made her laugh. "Beak, he must have been furious with you."

"Spit," Beak whispered. "Your future was my concern, not his anger," he boasted.

"Of course, it was only after I heard he was going to choose you that I asked him anything, you understand."

"When did you have time?" Jamie asked, frowning.

"Ain't important," Beak said hurriedly. "Besides, I knew Kincaid was a good one as soon as I looked real close at his horse." He gave Jamie another gentle prod between her shoulderblades to get her moving toward her husband again. "This warrior's going to treat you with just as much care."

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Jamie muttered. "You've been a stable master too many years, old friend. There's a difference between a wife and a horse. I can see you believe this nonsense you're telling me. You're looking very pleased with yourself."

"And feeling pleased," Beak boasted. "I just got you clean outside without having to drag you none, now, didn't I?"