Saving Sabine

Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

A fortnight passed quickly. Both Sabine and Connor agreed that Gretna Green was neither right, nor for them. A return journey to England was imminent, but not before Connor’s need to prove himself.

“As a son of a Scottish Laird, ye will need to prove yourself before you be allowed to marry any lass, let alone Lady Sabine,” Mungo had said.

Sabine wasn’t frightened by the burly Scot, she was intrigued by his customs and way of running things. He commanded respect through wise leadership … and heavily enforced laws. During their stay, Sabine had told her future in – laws about who she was, and who her father was. They were surprised, and happy that they had made the decision to marry honourable and not run to Gretna Green as if they were ashamed. Sabine could tell Connor was thinking of Merida in that moment.

Connor and Mungo were making slow progress. Each day their conversations lasted a little longer. She could tell Mungo was still put out that Connor had not reclaimed his title, but she was glad he had stuck to his word. Connor didn’t want this life. He wanted a paddock full of stallions to train, and she wanted that too.

“He needn’t do anything to prove himself,” Sabine had assured him.

“Aye, but it is necessary. He won’ be worthy of any woman unless he proves it. We will hold another Games. Your brothers will compete, bar Fergus of course. The winner will marry Lady Sabine. No exceptions.”

Had Sabine really wished for Connor to compete in the Highland Games for her? The sudden thought of him losing washed over her and she entertained the thoughts of being married to one of his younger brothers. They were nice, young men, but there was only one Connor. 

The impromptu Gamers was organised quickly. Servants re – constructed the field and oodles of food and ale were carted around ready for the feast afterwards. She noticed that the women of the castle didn’t wear such fine gowns every day, they wore simpler garments. It was tradition, however, to wear their finest dresses for the Games to increase their desirability to the competitors.

“It encourages them to perform well,” Deirdre had explained. “Especially the fiancé.”

She had been given a red velvet gown to wear. It felt so expensive in her hands as she brushed her hands over her hips. The material cascaded down in folds from her waist and followed her as she walked with a long train. The edges were lines with gold thread and a rope – like sash was tied around her waist with golden tassels at the ends.

Sabine had removed her lace handkerchief that she always carried in her sleeve and had given it to Connor as a good luck charm. In its folds was a small lock of her hair. The look on his face when he’d seen it was incredible, he looked as though it were the best gift he’d ever received.

“That’s pretty,” Heather commented, pointing to her necklace, the carved horse that Connor had made for her. Her relationship with Heather was difficult. They were friends in a way, but she was still hurt by the fact that Connor had moved on when she thought they were to marry. Sabine was very careful around Heather. She enjoyed having Greta with them as a mediator, however she was off for many hours of the day with Fergus. Sabine hoped that their wedding was soon as the future Laird could well have been conceived. 

Sadly, Greta was not there to mediate as Heather helped her dress. “Thank you,” she smiled. “It was a present.”

“Connor always was talented when it came to carving,” she replied, helping her smooth out the creases in her skirt.

Sabine felt guilty immediately. She knew she shouldn’t be, but she couldn’t help it. Her comment made her wonder if Connor had ever made a charm for Heather, or if hers was truly unique. “He is,” she said uncomfortably. Heather’s lips pursed as she surveyed Sabine. Sabine took a quick breath and decided to confront Heather. She shouldn’t have to feel guilty about being happy. It was a happy day. Her fiancé was about to compete in a traditional Scottish tourney for her. She never imagined anyone would choose her, she’d always been labelled the ‘boring’ girl and she’d never had any friends. She would not feel guilty about being happy. “Heather, are we ever going to be able to be in the same room and it not be awkward?”