Page 14 of The Chief's Wild Promise
Her father harrumphed and took a large gulp of wine. “Nonsense. Ye were magnificent. Mackinnon slunk out of here like a beaten dog!”
Makenna’s pulse stuttered, and she inwardly cringed on her husband-to-be’s behalf. She’d shamed him, and part of her was sorry for it. All the same, his capitulation had surprised her. He’d been so angry initially, but when she’d burned the document that his father had signed, something akin to respect had flared in his silvery eyes.
Suddenly, she’d been in control of the meeting. It had been a heady sensation, and she’d pushed her advantage. She couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve to take a seat at her father’s desk and write a new agreement. She’d never before done something so bold.
In the end, she’d written two copies of the same document, and both clan-chiefs had signed it in their own blood.
And now it was done.
For a moment, she’d spied an escape from this union—but then, she had been the one to slam the door shut in her face. Frankly, she felt like weeping, not toasting to their success.
Oblivious to her inner turmoil, the clan-chief strode to the table, where his copy of the agreement still lay. “This is better than I could have hoped for,” he said, picking up the parchment and scanning it once more. “Not only will I have military aid, but trade. Meggernie will prosper.” His gaze glinted then. “The extra men will be useful when I deal with those devil-spawn Campbells.”
Makenna didn’t reply. She literally couldn’t. Her throat now felt as if a plum lodged there, threatening to choke her. She too wanted to take on their foes—but soon she’d be far from Meggernie.
Meanwhile, her father rolled up the agreement and secured it with a leather tie before carrying it across to an alcove in the wall. There, he pulled out a key from a pouch on his belt, inserted it into a lock, and opened the iron lid before placing the valuable document inside. He then firmly closed his safe box and deposited the key back in its pouch.
Turning back to Makenna, he flashed her a victorious grin. “Come, lass … let’s join everyone for the noon meal. We have happy news to share.”
7: SILENCE AND SOLITUDE
MACKINNON DIDN’T SHOW his face in the great hall.
Makenna couldn’t blame him. She too wished to hide—anything to avoid her father’s crowing. Around her, Makenna’s sisters and mother listened wide-eyed as the clan-chief regaled them with the tale of how she turned a desperate situation around. The pride in his voice was evident, yet she just felt queasy.
Likewise, Rae and Alec were riveted, and when her father finished his story, Rankin gave a low whistle. He then flashed Makenna a wry smile. “With skills like that, ye are wasted as a wife.”
“Alec!” Liza elbowed her husband in the ribs.
“I mean it,” Alec replied, rubbing the side of his chest, his smile turning contrite. “Makenna’s talents would be of great use to our king. He could send her to negotiate with the English.”
“Aye, she’d have the bastards cowering in no time,” Makenna’s father agreed.
“Ye did well,” Rae rumbled, eyeing her. “Yer love for yer clan clearly knows no bounds.”
Makenna’s belly started to burn. How she wished the lot of them would stop blethering. No one here seemed to understand what that meeting had cost her. She wanted to remain here. To protect her clan. But no one cared about that.
“Our wee sister is indeed the fiercest of us,” Alma said, with a proud smile. “But none of this nonsense about her working for the king. Instead, she will make a fine clan-chief’s wife.”
Makenna swallowed. Lord, the biliousness that had followed her downstairs was worse now. She feared she wouldn’t be able to take a bite of the fine grouse pie the serving lads were carrying to the table. Hopefully, the meal would distract her companions and give them something else to talk about.
“And where is Mackinnon?” Alma’s husband, Rory, spoke up then, a glint in his eye.
“Likely cowering somewhere, licking his wounds … and nursing his bruised balls,” Connor MacFarlane, Sonia’s husband, replied, and the two men shared a meaningful look. “Can’t say I blame him. No man likes to be outwitted by a woman.” Sonia shot her husband a withering look at this, yet Connor ignored her. Instead, he shifted his attention to Makenna—and the glint in his eye made her want to punch him.
She’d never warmed to Sonia’s husband, nor Alma’s, for that matter. And despite that she disliked Mackinnon, she didn’t like the way the two men were speaking about him. He didn’t deserve such humiliation.
Suddenly, she’d had enough of this, enough of the teasing and smug expressions. If she had to weather any more of it, she’d explode.
Stomach churning, she pushed herself up from the table. “Please excuse me,” she muttered.
Makenna’s mother frowned. “Is all well, lass?”
She forced a nod, even as her heart started to pound. “I just need some air.” With that, she turned and fled the great hall. Someone called her name as she departed, but she ignored them. Let them congratulate each otherwithouther presence. They didn’t need her anyway.
Jaw bunched, she pushed her way out through the throngs of MacGregor, Mackinnon, and Maclean warriors who were still making their way inside for the meal. But once out in the entrance hall, she kept going.
The walls were closing in on her. She had to get out. She had to find a place where she could hide for a while and put herself back together.