Charming the Shrew by Laurin Wittig Read Free Book Online

family, the thought of living forever alone, truly alone, not just lonely, made her quake. She did not wish to live without the company of people—even the MacDonells would be better than that…perhaps. But the clan…
    Catriona could not move as her thoughts twisted round and round on themselves, writhing and tangling like a basket full of snakes—and just as vile.
    There was no escape. She could see no way out that was not horrid to consider. Marriage to Dogface or life in the abbey. She had no one to turn to for help, no one to even give her a moment’s pity. The only thing that she could do was to be so awful, so horrible, so completely unwilling as to make Dogface change his mind about marrying her. But the thought of facing him made her tremble, and that weakness made her furious. She clasped her hands to still them. Nay, she would not face him.
    Anger boiled through her veins, heating her until she was pacing the shore in long, fast strides, searching for something to throw, something she could hurt the rest of them with as much as thrusting her into Dogface MacDonell’s arms would hurt her. She could not give herself to him. She would not.
    She would die before she would leave Assynt with Dogface—or he would. There must be some way…
    Sudden realization filled her with hope and dread. She had no choices left. She must not be in Assynt when Dogface arrived. She couldn’t be. If she temporarily removed herself from her home, she could thwart Broc and Dogface. A memory shimmered in her mind from a time long past. She had wished for a sister or a mother, but she had neither of these. She did, however, have one aunt, her mother’s sister who lived in a village near the sea. She had traveled there once when she was little, before her mother died. ’Twas not far to the sea, and they were kin. If Catriona asked for her aunt’s hospitality, she could not refuse. She’d leave in the morn and would arrive before nightfall. No one would think that she would go there.
    Satisfied that she had found at least a temporary solution, she drank in the view once more. She would leave, for her own purposes, as Ailig had counseled, and all would be well.
    After all, if she stayed she would have no choice but to stab Dogface in his sleep.

    T AYG M UNRO SAT on a wobbly three-legged stool in the great hall of Dun Donell Castle, his back comfortably near the fire, his shallow drum resting on his thigh. He smiled at the small crowd gathering about him.
    It had taken him three hard days to get to Dun Donell. The weather had remained clear, though cold, else it would have taken him days longer. He’d stayed in a village of MacKensies the first night. It had been uncomfortable since he was well-known there and was greeted as a hero. He had behaved as Robbie would have. Indeed he’d been grateful for the necessity as many lasses, some too young even to wed, had plied him with drink and a few had offered more than wine or ale. None of these lasses knew aught but that he was the Tayg of the songs and tales the bards and seanachean were spreading about—that he was to be chief of Munro, and he had a bonny face. ’Twas nothing they knew of him.
    He had taken his leave gratefully and traveled hard until he came upon another village where he passed yet another uncomfortable night, though for different reasons. He had enjoyed his newfound anonymity, though his first foray as a bard had not gone well. He had taken his leave before sunup. From there he had traveled hard directly to Dun Donell, wishing to get this task done so he could get on with enjoying a more leisurely trek through the Highlands. He had arrived well past the early setting of the sun, and he planned to stay but one night as well, not wishing to chance discovery of his true identity.
    But for now he must make a better show of being a bard. It wasn’t as easy to impersonate one as he had thought ’twould be. People had expectations, and he certainly hadn’t lived up to