“What?” Angus Dunbar shook his gray head and roused himself from the semi-stupor he had been enjoying to peer around. The stablemaster’s young son was slipping back through the open door of the keep. “Ho! Lad! What was that?”

“The English be acomin’ over the bridge!” the boy cried, his faced wreathed in excitement as he turned away and slammed the keep door.

“Damn!” Staggering to his feet, Angus gave the man who lay slumped at the table beside him a shake. “Duncan! Wake up, lad. She be here. Wake up, damn ye!”

Grabbing a pitcher of ale off the table, he turned his son’s head by the hair and splashed it in his face, then stepped quickly out of the way as Duncan came to sputtering life. “Rouse yerself, man! Yer bride be here.”

“Me what?” Duncan tried to frown and squint at the same time, but found the effort to accomplish either task made the pulsing in his head increase to a horrid pounding. Groaning miserably, he lowered it to the table again.

He had definitely overindulged; in fact, Duncan could not recall the last time he had imbibed like that. He and his father had been on a binge since the English had left two weeks earlier. At least he thought it had been two weeks ago. They had been celebrating ever since. Well, mayhap they had been holding more of a wake. He, Duncan Dunbar, heir to the title of laird of the Dunbars, had agreed to be married. At the age of twenty-nine, he was finally giving up his freedom and taking on the responsibility of a wife and, eventually, children.

Damn. Now he’d done it. He’d gotten himself into a fix that made him fair froth to even consider. Even the fortune he had been offered no longer seemed worth losing his freedom. Mayhap ’twas not too late to back out of the deal, he thought hopefully.

“Where the devil did your sister get to? Seonaid should be here to greet the lass.”

Duncan sighed, his hopes for escape vanishing. Were he to back out now, the king would not be under any obligation to see to Seonaid’s long-neglected betrothal. It had been his one demand before agreeing to the wedding, rather than asking for a doubling of the dowry. His sister’s reluctant groom was to be brought to heel and either forced to fulfill the contract that had been arranged when they were children, or to set Seonaid free. The latter option was what Duncan hoped for. He was sure his father would never forgive him should Sherwell arrive prepared to fulfill his part of the contract.

“Damn ye, Duncan, they are here I tell ye! Rouse yerself, man!”