The Border Trilogy Read Online Free PDF

infusing a note of pleading into her voice. “Please, Father, I remember Sir Adam well. He is naught but an arrogant, disrespectful lout, a man who holds women of low account. I disliked him more than I can say.” But her plea had no better effect than to inflame his frustration to anger, and as the storm broke over her head, she realized that he had made up his mind irrevocably to the match.
    She had always known, for custom decreed it, that her father would one day provide a husband for her. Whatever other rights young highland women had, they were rarely allowed much say in such an important matter as marriage. And despite the fact that by Scottish law a young woman could refuse any suitor, a Scottish father within the confines of his home was a law unto himself. For any offspring of his, male or female, to act against his wishes would be scandalous. Indeed, in many parts of Scotland—mostly lowland areas where the Calvinists prevailed—such behavior was illegal and was severely punished.
    Mary Kate knew she could never openly defy Duncan, who loved her dearly and who, she had no doubt, was puffed up with pride that a man of Douglas’s stamp, borderer or not, had made an offer for her. Moreover, Duncan’s honor was at stake now that his word had been given, and he obviously believed her distaste after but a single encounter with her suitor to be no more than natural feminine contrariness.
    She couldn’t even tell him about her last night at Critchfield, for with the clarity of hindsight, she was too honest not to admit that her own behavior had contributed more than a little to the borderer’s assumption that she would be an easy conquest. That a true gentleman ought, in her opinion, never to make such an assumption would be deemed a mere quibble by her father, who would, in his own masculine way, condemn her loose behavior and declare the insult well merited.
    It occurred to her that she might edit the tale, accenting Douglas’s behavior while limiting reference to her own, but she rejected the idea as soon as it entered her head. Duncan would ask too many pertinent questions, and she was a poor liar. Even the fact that she had successfully defended her honor would avail her little with her father, for she was certain he would, in view of his recent acquaintance with and liking for Douglas, roundly disapprove of the rough and ragged tactics she had employed. Impulse was second nature to her, but she often came to grief through not having thought out the consequences of her schemes ahead of time. She would not make that mistake now, she told herself. She would keep her own counsel. For once, she would behave prudently.
    Duncan moved forward just then to lay one big hand on her shoulder. He was a barrel-chested, broad-shouldered man of above average height, and she automatically braced herself at his approach, thinking he was still angry, but when he spoke his voice was gentle. “Come, come, lassie. ’Tis a wondrous match, forby. Douglas has a mort o’ gelt, and he’s putting a bit by in your ain name for the privilege o’ claiming your hand. He’s got land of his ain, too, and he’s agreed he’ll no interfere wi’ your claim tae me estates when I’ve gone.”
    “And you would take his word for that? A border’s word? When you’ve told me yourself that a sensible highlander trusts none but his own?”
    Duncan shrugged. “In troth, I like the mon.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I ken weel that ye fear leaving your home, lassie, but though ye may be a wee bit lonesome at first in border country, ye’ll find your feet soon enow. I’ll warrant ye’ll have more gelt in your pocket and more servants at your beck and bay than ye’ll ken what tae do wi’. ’Tis a great honor, lass, and one day ye’ll be thanking me.”
    “Never,” she said, gritting her teeth. Annoyed that he could believe Douglas’s wealth might sway her as it had swayed him, she stiffened under his hand, although an instinct