Page 15 of Claimed Highland Brides

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RAPPROCHEMENT

F iona blinked up at Daividh, shocked that he would speak directly of these things. So far, all their feelings had gone unacknowledged, at least she’d thought so. Now he was asking her to...what? Declare herself? Was that not his job? She did not know much about courting, but she did know that it was the man who came forward.

“I…” She was at a loss for words and did not know what to tell him.

“Ye…? What, Fiona? If’n I declare myself to yer uncle, would ye be my bride? Or am I too lowly a man for ye?”

She narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. “I’m here am I no?”

His lips widened as his eyes lightened with laughter. “Aye, ye are.”

“Weel then? D’ye think I court scandal for just anyone?”

His smile grew. “I suppose not.”

“But…”

His smile dropped as soon as he saw her face change.

“I dinnae want ye tae say anything...yet. Ye were right. Laird Hunter is a dangerous man. Ye cannae tangle wi’ him. Ye mun’ leave him tae me.”

Daividh immediately narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to protest.

“Listen to me! I heard ye. D’ye ken? I heard ye and if’n I can, I willnae marry that man. But I cannae just break off the engagement. It doesnae work like that. I mun’ convince my uncle. Ye must stand back and let me deal wi’ this.”

Daividh pursed his lips and sighed, looking unhappy, but he didn’t say anything so Fiona took it as a sign of acquiescence.

“Ye mun’ trust me.”

He nodded slowly, lips still pursed. They caught, and held each other’s gazes, eyes soft and open, hiding nothing. Daividh leaned forward, his long dark lashes dropping, hiding his eyes from her gaze as his own latched onto her lips. She poked out her tongue and ran it over her bottom lip, wetting the suddenly dry skin. She swallowed as his head dropped lower, his lashes flicking upward, showing her the question in his eyes. She tilted her head up in answer and finally, his lips met hers. She was expecting him to plunder her mouth, to taste her as if it would be his last meal for a while.

Instead, he was soft, exploring, questioning. His mouth moved against her as if he would learn every dip and crevice of her mouth and memorize it in his skin. She whimpered, hands snaking around his neck as she stood on tiptoe, pulling him closer.

His hands closed around her waist, a steel band holding her flush against him as if he might never let her go. She relaxed against him, quite ready to live there for the rest of her life.

I am so glad that the old laird was not my first kiss.

She was tempted to urge Daividh to go further, as far as he could, but she knew that would not be fair on him. If her scheme did not work, she would end up the laird’s wife, and inadvertently, break his heart. She pulled back, gazing intently at him, trying to tell him with her eyes what her lips could not say.

He nodded, as if he heard her, before stepping back. “Let’s find yer sisters.”

* * *

Daividh knew that Fiona meant well. He knew she was perfectly capable of breaking her own engagement. But he was not one to sit back and watch a woman struggle without trying to help. Especially not a woman he loved. He decided to go to his laird and tell him what he knew.

Surely McCormick will act ?

He had to. If the Douglass girls were truly his only heirs, he had a stake in their futures too. He had a responsibility to ensure that they made good marriages in which they could thrive.

The next morning he woke up and dressed carefully before heading out to the castle. At this time of day, the laird was usually in his cowshed, supervising the milking. It was an important task and he liked to make sure the milkers did not steal from him. He was always a little paranoid about his dairy.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon as he came into the cowpens, his body immediately relaxing as the peaceful sounds of cows chewing cud as steady hands pulled on their teats, splashing warm nourishing milk into the waiting buckets surrounded him. He cleared his throat in case the laird had not heard him enter. McCormick looked up, his face intent, eyes far away. They sharpened as they fell on Daividh, and the laird smiled.

“Campbell. I dinnae usually see ye around this early.”

“Aye weel, I couldnae sleep. I have something tae discuss wi’ ye.”

McCormick went back to staring at the milkers. “And ye couldnae wait tae see me in my office?”

Daividh hesitated.

Should I say no ?

“I-I thought we might speak more frankly in the brisk honest air of early morning.”

The laird threw back his head and laughed. Daividh relaxed his shoulders slightly in relief. At least the man had not taken an obvious offense. “Aye weel...” He wandered over to Daividh. “What is it ye wish tae say tae me?”

His voice was low, his eyes just as intent as when he’d been staring at his cows. Daividh made sure to look him straight in the eye. “I ken aboot Laird Hunter.”

McCormick stiffened, a dead giveaway. “What d’ye ken?”

“He wanted tae wed Lady Douglass’s mother, did he no?”

McCormick frowned. “How do ye ken aboot tha’?”

Daividh looked away. “’Tis nae important. People talk, and I listen.”

“People talk? What are ye on aboot? Who is talking aboot my niece?”

Daividh shook his head. “No one is speaking on yer niece. ’Tis the laird. And I heard it from his men. He doesnae mean well frae her. Ye need tae stop this wedding."

The laird glared at Daividh but then he suddenly dropped the mask of fury to reveal the fear beneath. "I cannae do tha'." The despair in his voice was clear.

Daividh stepped closer. "And why can ye no?"

The laird simply shook his head.

Daividh gave him an earnest look. "If'n ’tis the issue of yer withdrawal of the guards from her faither, she already kens it weel."

McCormick gave him a sharp glance. "And how would she ken tha'?"

Daividh looked away. "I dinnae ken. She dinnae tell me."

The glare came back, twice as furious. "Ye heard me speak o’ it? Are ye spying on me?"

"I wasnae spying…but I did owerhear yer talk wi' the Hunter aboot the blackmail."

“And ye decided tae make it yer business?”

In spite of the aggression that the laird was showing, Daividh didn’t back down but looked him dead in the eye. “Ye should ken tha’ I care very much for yer niece. On my honor, I havenae touched her, but I cannae watch her gang ahead wi’ this wedding. Not after this. Twill put her in danger and ye ken it as weel as I do.”

* * *

Daividh’s words stayed with McCormick all day. He was distracted and irritable and everyone noticed, even Laird Hunter, who was not one to care for other people’s moods. The other laird walked up to him as he was inspecting his guard—for the third time that day.

“Is there something ye have tae tell me, McCormick? Ye’ve been acting like a spooked horse all day. Ye’re nae changing yer mind are ye? Because ye ken what would happen if’n ye did.”

Donnchadh sighed. “I ken.”

Padraig gave him a look as if he was waiting for Donnchadh to confess all his sins at once. Donnchadh looked away, swallowing even as he tried to freeze his face into impassivity. He had had enough of death and killing. He had no wish to add another body to his count. No, it was clear to him what he must do. If Padraig was already on high alert, it would not take him long to uncover the real problem. He had his eyes everywhere, Donnchadh had no doubt. He was surprised at how patient the other laird had been, letting Fiona set the pace on this marriage, allowing for her sisters to arrive before he set off arrangements.

It was uncharacteristically generous.

At first, Donnchadh had hoped that he did these things out of his softness of feeling for Fiona. But he had not been able to deceive himself for too long. The way that Padraig watched Fiona, Donnchadh knew that she was little more than a possession to him. One he watched greedily and obsessively as she flitted about the castle. When the sisters had arrived at the castle, Padraig had smiled with satisfaction as if he had won at some game nobody but he knew was being played. It was very worrisome and he had no clue what to do about it all.

“Ye’re getting cold feet. I see it in yer eyes.” Padraig’s voice was cold and so quiet that Donnchadh could barely hear him. “Whatever ye’re planning, ye better renounce it the noo while ye have the chance. Next time I willnae ask ye.” He stepped closer, his eyes glittering like shards of ice in a dark cave. “And ye willnae like the consequences.”

Donnchadh deflated, with defeat.

There was no reasoning with this man. There was no way he could call off the engagement without risking everything. His eyes fell on his men...one particular man who was watching them keenly even as he effortlessly went about his drills.

He willnae leave it alone .

There was only one thing left that he could do.

He turned away from Padraig without another word. He went to his study and sat down with a large glass of whisky, his eyes narrowed as he tried to think of anything else he might do that would result in everyone emerging from this with no harm done. He could think of nothing and so he called his personal guards to him, two men who had been with him since he was a child. They’d grown up together and were loyal to his house.

“Aye, sir.” They stood to attention in front of him and he could hardly find the words for what he was asking of them.

“Put Daividh Campbell in the dungeon. He has betrayed us and he needs to pay.”

He could see the shock on their faces, the disbelief, but they did not question him, and he was grateful for that.

“As ye wish sir.”

He felt his chest burn with despair as he watched them go. It was his right, as laird, to punish any of the men under his command as he saw fit. He was acquainted enough with Daividh Campbell to know that if left to his own devices, he would not let this wedding occur. If he had felt sufficiently emboldened by his feelings to confront his laird, he would not hesitate to confront Padraig. This was for the best.

* * *

Fiona wrung her hands as she paced back and forth. Trying to make friends with Laird Hunter’s men was more difficult than she had expected. They were a close-mouthed lot and not given to much conversation with anyone not of their party. She had tried to ignite a conversation with one of the men she’d found by the well, collecting water, by asking about Glendale, and what she might expect of the place. He had merely grunted and looked away as if she did not exist.

During lunch, she sat in the hall with her sisters and the other castle inhabitants. The Glendale warriors sat together and any overtures she made to them were politely rebuffed. It was puzzling. She had never known a group of people to be so insular and unwelcoming to outsiders as this one. It was more than worrisome because it said something about the laird’s leadership that scared her. If she was not mistaken, his men were terrified of him. How much more afraid should she be, if she tried to break this engagement?

Fiona shook her head, sighing with despair.

This is going to be a lot more difficult than I imagined. Maybe I should try consulting the seer again. Surely she must know something that will help me.