IT WASN’T UNUSUAL FOR A BRIDE TO MEET HER GROOM FOR the first time at their wedding ceremony, but Gabrielle hoped to at least get a glimpse of the man before then. The only piece of information she had about Laird Monroe was that he was an older man. No one had told her how much older, though, and she was filled with trepidation. What if he turned out to be an ogre? Or so old he couldn’t stand straight? Or had no teeth and could only eat mush? She knew that his age and appearance shouldn’t be important to her, but what if his manners were atrocious? Or worse, what if he was cruel to those around him? Could she live with someone who mistreated the men and women who depended on him?

Her mother had often told her that she worried too much, but wasn’t the unknown always a worry? To Gabrielle it was. Oh, how she wished her mother were here to offer advice now. She would calm Gabrielle’s fears. But her mother had died in the winter two years ago. While Gabrielle knew that she had been blessed to have her in her life for so many years, there were times when she physically ached to talk to her. Today was one of those times, for Gabrielle was on her way to her wedding.

Twenty soldiers along with staff and servants accompanied Gabrielle and her father to the Highlands of Scotland. Their destination was Arbane Abbey, where her wedding ceremony would take place in one week. Rooms would be provided at the abbey for the travel-weary group.

The procession up the mountain was slow and arduous. The closer they came to their destination, the more withdrawn Gabrielle became.

The trail was narrow and broken, but her father was able to ride by her side once they had rounded a sharp turn. Baron Geoffrey tried to think of a way to lighten her concerns about the future.

He motioned to the lush valley below. “Do you notice how green everything is here, Gabrielle?”

“Yes, Father, I do,” she replied without enthusiasm.

“And do you notice how invigorating the brisk air is in the Highlands?”

“I do,” she said.

The good baron was determined to raise his daughter’s spirits. “There are those Highlanders who believe that we are high enough to touch heaven. What do you think?”

It wasn’t like Gabrielle’s father to be so fanciful. Her mother had been the fanciful one, full of dreams that she had passed on to her daughter. But her father wasn’t a dreamer. He was a leader of men, a protector, and a terribly practical man.

“I would think they were mistaken,” she answered. “We aren’t high enough to touch heaven here. Only in St. Biel would that be possible.”

“And how would you know this?”

“Mother,” she answered.

“Ah,” Baron Geoffrey said with a melancholy smile. “And what exactly did she tell you?”

“She always said the same thing, that when she stood next to the statue of St. Biel that overlooks the harbor, she was as close to heaven as she could be on earth.”

Gabrielle’s fingers brushed across the gold medallion she wore on a chain around her neck. It had been fashioned from a coin and bore the likeness of St. Biel. She’d had it for as long as she could remember. Her mother had been buried with one just like it.

He noticed the gesture. “I miss her, too,” he said. “But she will always be in our hearts.” Then with a sigh he said, “Do you notice how blue the sky is? As blue as your mother’s eyes.”

“I do notice,” she said. “And I have also noticed how you have pointed out again and again how lovely this land is. Could you possibly have a motive?” she teased.

“I want you to appreciate your surroundings, and I want you to be content here and content in your marriage as well, Gabrielle.”

She wanted to argue. Was contentment the ultimate to be wished for? Were passion and love and excitement only for dreams? Was it ever possible to have it all? She longed to pose these questions to her father, but she could not. She held her tongue. As they continued on, she made up her mind to be more practical, like her father. She was a grown woman, soon to become a wife. It was time for her to put her childish dreams away.

“I’ll try to be content,” she promised.

Their pace was slowed once again because of the rocky incline. Her father saw the look on her face and the sadness in her eyes. “Daughter,” he said in exasperation, “you are not going to a funeral. It’s your wedding. Try to be joyful.”

“I will try,” she promised.

An hour later when the caravan stopped so that the horses could rest and they could stretch their legs, her father asked Gabrielle to walk with him.

Neither said a word until they stopped to rest beneath a clump of birch trees near a flowing brook.

“I have met Laird Monroe and some of his family. He will be kind to you.”

She didn’t want to talk about her future husband, but her father seemed determined.

“Then I shall be kind to him,” she said.

The baron shook his head. “You are a willful daughter.”

She turned to face him. “Father, what is it you’re finding so difficult to tell me?”

He sighed. “Your life is going to change when you become a wife. You won’t be equal in your marriage, and you must accept this.”

“Mother was your equal, wasn’t she?”

He smiled. “That she was,” he admitted, “but she was the exception.”

“Perhaps I will be the exception, too.”

“In time perhaps you will,” he agreed. “I don’t want you to worry about your future husband. I have been assured that he will never raise a hand against you, and as you know, there are husbands who would be cruel to their wives.” There was disgust in his voice when he added that fact.

“Father, I think you’re more concerned about this marriage than I am. Do you actually wonder what I would do if my husband, or any man for that matter, were to raise a hand against me?”

Somewhat chagrined, he replied, “No, I don’t wonder. I know exactly what you would do because I saw to your training.”

Before she could interrupt, he continued, “However, there will be changes when you marry. You’ll no longer be free to do what you wish. You’ll have to take your husband’s feelings and needs into consideration. You have been self-reliant in many ways, but now you must learn restraint.”

“Are you telling me I must give up my freedom?”

He sighed. His daughter sounded appalled by the notion. “Of a sort,” he hedged.

“Of a sort?”

“And when you are married,” Baron Geoffrey continued, “you will share your husband’s bed and—” Too late he realized where he’d taken the conversation. He stopped, then coughed to cover his embarrassment. What had he been thinking to bring up this topic? Talking about the marriage bed with his daughter was impossible for him. After a moment’s consideration he decided that he would ask one of the older women to explain what would happen on her wedding night. He simply wasn’t up to the task.

“You were saying?” she prodded.

“We’re close to the abbey now,” he stammered. “Just an hour or so away I’d wager, and just as close to Finney’s Flat if we were to ride in the opposite direction.”

“It’s early in the day. There’s time before dark for us to look at the flat.”

“Have you forgotten that I must pay my respects to Laird Buchanan?” He nodded to the west. “When we reach the next rise, I’ll leave you. It will be going on darkness by the time I reach his home. You and the others will continue on to the abbey.”

“Would it be possible for my guard and me to go to the flat while the others continue on? I’m certain it won’t take us any time at all to catch up with them. I am most curious to see this dowry that King John has given me.”

He considered her request a long minute before agreeing. “As long as you take all four guards with you, and as long as you carry your bow and arrows, and as long as you are cautious to a fault. And you must promise me that you will not let the time get away from you and that it will be an uneventful ride. Then I will allow it.”

She held her smile. “Uneventful, Father?”

Seeing the sparkle in her eyes, Baron Geoffrey was suddenly feeling quite in awe of his daughter. With her black hair and her violet blue eyes, so like her mother’s, Gabrielle had grown into a beautiful and delightful young lady. His chest swelled with pride as he thought of her many accomplishments. She could read and write, speak four languages, and speak them well. Her mother had seen that Gabrielle was well-versed in the feminine pursuits, and he had seen that she was well-trained in more practical matters. She could sit her horse as well as any man, and she wasn’t squeamish with her bow and arrows. Truth be told, she was more accurate with her targets than he was.

“Uneventful, Father?” Gabrielle repeated, wondering why he was so distracted.

He shook himself out of his contemplations. “You know what I mean. Do not play the innocent with me. You’re prone to mischief.”

She protested. “I cannot imagine why you would think—”

He interrupted. “Promise me it will be an uneventful ride and that there will be no mischief. I’ll have your word on this, Daughter.”

She nodded. “I promise. There will be no mischief, and it will be an uneventful afternoon.”

Uncomfortable with showing affection, Baron Geoffrey awkwardly patted her on her shoulder and then headed back to the horses.

Gabrielle hurried to catch up. “Father, you worry too much. I’ll be careful as I have promised, so please quit your frown. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Two hours later she had to kill a man.