Page 6 of Bound to a Scot (Sins in a Kilt #2)

CHAPTER SIX

M addox sat at the far end of the table, opposite Laird Macfie, his stomach twisting and turning into knots as he stole surreptitious glances at the woman from the inn. It didn’t help that he noticed she was doing the same. The woman he’d kissed. The Lady Macfie. Maddox took some wine, trying to swallow down the lump in the middle of his throat.

“Is everythin’ tae yer likin’, Laird MacLachlan?” Macfie asked.

He nodded. “Aye. ‘Tis wonderful,” he said. “And I thank ye again fer yer hospitality.”

The man gave him a magnanimous wave. “Of course. We’re honored tae have ye here.”

Based on his previous conversations with the man, Maddox didn’t think there was going to be a way to get out of sealing this alliance without marrying the girl to his left. She was comely and would no doubt grow into a stunning woman. Maddox, though, couldn’t get over the fact that she was a girl. A girl who’d seen just fifteen summers. Macfie might be fine with marrying and bedding a girl who was just out of pigtails, but Maddox wasn’t. When he looked at Cecilia, he didn’t see a woman.

But the man was intractable. He refused to consider any arrangement that didn’t end with Maddox taking a child bride. Part of him wanted to scuttle the whole alliance and be done with it. But Adair’s voice kept echoing through his mind and he kept hearing the word “sacrifice.” His people were hungry. Unrest was rising. As their laird, it was his responsibility to care for them. Maddox knew if he didn’t do something to aid them, he wouldn’t have much of an army left to give to Laird Macfie.

Macfie cleared his throat. “Me daughter loves to draw,” he said. “Fancies herself an artist.”

Maddox nodded and gave the lass a small smile. “Is that so?”

“I dinnae ken about fancyin’ meself an artist, but I like tae draw, aye,” she said. “I also like tae read. Very much.”

“’Tis true. She’s read every book in me own library at least twice,” Macfie said.

“Dae ye have a library in yer own keep, Laird MacLachlan?” she asked.

“Aye. I dae,” he replied.

“Oh, ‘tis wonderful tae hear,” Cecilia said. “I dinnae think I could live without a library. They’re like the very air tae me.”

Maddox swallowed down the lump of emotion that formed in his throat. His late wife had been fond of reading too. In fact, he’d built the entire library in his keep just to make her happy. It was a memory that sent wave of bile into his throat which was quickly followed by a surge of the blackest of furies. His feelings for his dead wife were complex and unpredictable. Waves of emotion hit him at the strangest times with seemingly little provocation.

Emmeline, who’d been silent to that point, took a sip of her wine and set her cup down then turned to Maddox. Their eyes met and he felt the same bolt of lightning shoot through his veins he’d felt the moment he’d seen her in the common room at the inn. His throat grew dry and he swallowed hard, trying to work some moisture into his mouth.

“So, me husband tells me ye’re tae marry Cecilia,” she said.

Her voice, though soft, carried a hard edge to it that matched the dark gleam in her eyes. It was more than clear to Maddox that she was not pleased about her daughter being married off to solidify an alliance. On that point, at least, they could agree.

“Aye,” Maddox said. “Seems tae be needed tae forge this alliance.”

“So, ye’re all right marryin’ such a young lass, then?” she asked.

“Ye’ll have tae forgive me wife,” Macfie said with a hostile glare at Emmeline. “She sometimes forgets her place and tends tae speak out of turn.”

Maddox frowned. “I’d be surprised if she didnae have thoughts on a man of me years marryin’ her daughter?—”

“Stepdaughter,” Macfie corrected. “Cecilia is me child with me first wife. I married Emmeline after she passed on. So, she’s nae her real daughter.”

Emmeline’s face darkened at his words and Maddox could see she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. Being reminded Cecilia wasn’t her trueborn daughter had obviously struck a nerve with her.

“Well, it seems tae me that she’s raised the girl. Makes her as much her mother as anythin’, I’d reckon,” Maddox said.

“Except by blood,” Macfie said coldly.

Maddox gritted his teeth. “Anyway, I’d personally welcome the input of me wife. I’d demand it, actually. I’ve found that womenfolk tend tae have a better grasp of things than we men dae at times. They tend tae be more level-headed than us.”

Macfie chuckled. “’Tis but one of the many differences between us, Laird MacLachlan,” he said. “Even still, we shouldnae let that come between us fer the sake of our alliance. After all, we’re nae lookin’ tae rule each other’s clan. So, ye rule yers the way ye want, I’ll rule mine the same.”

“Indeed,” Maddox said, then turned to Emmeline. “Tae answer yer question, though, it would nae be me first choice tae marry a lass so young. I feel she’s still got some growin’ tae dae. But it seems necessary, as I said, tae forge this alliance.”

A tense silence settled over the table. Macfie glowered at his wife darkly and Maddox worried she had really stepped in it by speaking her mind and would pay the price for it. He set his cup of wine down and leaned forward, then glanced at Cecilia. There was a frown on her lips and her gaze was fixed to her hands, which rested in her lap. He could sense her tension. Her fear. She was willing to do her duty by her family but Maddox could see, plain as the nose on his face, that this was not her preferred path to walk.

“What I will say is that if we are tae be married, I can promise tae treat Cecilia well,” he said. “And I wouldnae ever force her tae dae anythin’ she was nae willin’ tae dae.”

He could sense the disapproval radiating from Macfie, as hot as the heat from the sun. The man believed that women were property. They were to be used as their husbands wished. They were commodities to be bartered and sold for personal gain. They were to be seen and not heard. Macfie’s attitude toward the women in his life disgusted Maddox. It was not his way, but he reminded himself he was not there to judge. It was not his place. He was there to solidify an alliance that would benefit his people and secure their future.

“Sacrifice,” he muttered to himself.

“What was that, Laird MacLachlan?” Macfie asked.

Maddox raised his head and blinked at him for a moment. When he realized he’d actually spoken out loud, he cleared his throat.

“I was just thinkin’ about somethin’ me cousin said tae me,” he replied.

“And what was that?”

“That we all must dae things we may nae want tae fer the good of the clan.”

Macfie seemed to chew it over for a moment then glowered at Emmeline and nodded, the message in his silent glare and frown on his lips more than clear.

“Aye,” Macfie said. “Ye speak truly, Laird MacLachlan.”

Maddox turned to Cecilia. “What dae ye think of this, lass? ‘Tis yer life we seem tae be playin’ with. I’d have yer thoughts on it all.”

The lass shifted in her seat and looked to her father. Upon seeing his narrowed eyes and clenched jaw, she quickly turned away. Cecilia clearly hadn’t expected to be asked for her opinion on the matter and didn’t know what to do. He could see she was a girl used to doing as she was told and to never question anything, always deferring to her father. It made him sad for her. And it only served to make Maddox even more disgusted with Macfie than he already was.

But that’s not what Maddox wanted. He wanted her genuine thoughts about marrying a man twice her age. More than that, he wanted her unadulterated thoughts about being used to solidify an alliance. He knew he shouldn’t have been asking, but he wanted Laird Macfie to understand that these women in his life were warm, living people, with their own thoughts and values. With their own beliefs. Their own minds. Their own lives.

Maddox was realistic enough to know that political and strategic marriages were common. His own marriage had been such, but that didn’t mean he approved or liked the practice. Although he’d grown to love his first wife, he hadn’t liked the fact that she’d been chosen for him and he didn’t want another to feel the way he’d felt. Especially a girl as young as Cecilia. She still had her whole life ahead of her. If not for the needs of his people, he wouldn’t even be entertaining the notion of taking her as a wife.

But that didn’t mean he wanted a wife who was mindless and simply did as she was told. A wife who did not have, let alone express, her own thoughts and feelings. A wife who was nothing more than an empty vessel that poured out exactly what he poured into her. That was not the sort of marriage he wanted. And that was not the sort of wife he would accept.

“Cecilia?” Maddox pressed.

“What daes it matter what she thinks?” Macfie grunted. “She’ll serve ye well and birth plenty of heirs fer ye. Yer lineage will be secure?—”

Maddox turned to Macfie. “Because I want more than a brainless baby maker fer a wife.”

The ferocity in his voice took Macfie aback, making him recoil slightly in his seat. From the corner of his eye, he caught the small smirk curling the corner of Emmeline’s mouth. It obviously wasn’t all that often that somebody put her husband in his place, and she was enjoying the show. But when Maddox turned to her, the smile slipped as she realized, once more, that they were talking about marrying off the girl she’d raised for their own gain.

He turned to Cecilia. “Well?”

With a quick glance at her father, the girl turned back to Maddox. “Well, ye seem like a good man. I’m sure ye’d make a fine husband?—”

“But what dae ye think about getting married so young? I’ll have yer true thoughts on that, Cecilia,” Maddox pressed.

Her full lips curled downward. “If I’m bein’ true, I’d nae get married so young. And I wouldnae get married fer political reasons. I would like tae be in love?—”

“Again, it matters nae,” Macfie cut her off. “She’s me daughter and I can bleedin’ dae with her as I wish. Ye need this alliance as much as I dae, Laird MacLachlan. Maybe more. So, ‘tis nae fer ye tae be questionin’ the way I go about makin’ it. But if ye’d rather stand on yer high horse because she’s younger than ye’d like, we can cancel the whole bleedin’ thing.”

His face pinched and angry, Macfie got to his feet and stormed out of the chamber, slamming the door behind him. The tense silence at the table was deafening. After a long couple of moments, Cecilia got to her feet and gave him a small curtsy.

“Excuse me, Laird MacLachlan.”

As he nodded, she turned and rushed from the room, leaving through the opposite door as her father, leaving Maddox sitting alone with Emmeline at the table. His heart thundered in his ears and his lips burned, recalling the feel of her mouth on his. Maddox turned to her, wanting to say something, perhaps to apologize for being so forward with her.

Before he could say anything though, she jumped to her feet and gave him a long, lingering look, her sparkling green eyes boring into his. He thought she would speak but she shook her head instead then fled the chamber, following through the door Cecilia had gone through, leaving him sitting alone at the table. He sighed and picked up his cup of wine, draining it down in one swallow. The serving girl appeared, almost as if from nowhere, and refilled his cup.

She gave him an awkward smile. “Sweetcakes fer dessert, me laird?”