Page 32 of The Highlander’s Illicit Bride (Wicked Highland Lairds #1)
“’ T is all right,” he said. “Nay need tae be nervous.”
“I’ve never been good about speakin’ in front of people.”
They stood in the corridor outside the Council chambers a few days after their shared intimacy, and that was all Struan could think about.
He couldn’t wait to face to Council and marry her already.
Isolde’s cheeks were flushed, and he could see her trembling.
Offering her a soft smile, Struan took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
She turned to him, clutching his hand tightly, as if she felt lost at sea and he was the only thing keeping her afloat.
Struan leaned forward and placed a soft kiss upon her lips.
“Ye’ll be fine. I promise ye,” he said. “The men inside that room are good and wise men. I’m sure they’ll see ye want tae dae right by everybody.
That ye’ve risked yer own life tae help me.
Tae help Finlay. And tae help our clan,” he replied, then drew in a deep breath. “And they’ll see that I love ye.”
Isolde looked him in the eye, her expression growing serious.
“I love ye too, Struan” she replied and laid a soft hand against his cheek.
As he set her back down, the doors to the chamber opened and he took her by the hand, leading her in. Isolde drew in a deep breath, as if preparing herself, and lifted her chin, putting on a face that was regal in bearing.
Struan’s Council sat around the table, watching them closely as they walked in. Her grip on his hand tightened, the only betrayal of her cool demeanor.
“Good mornin’, gentlemen,” Struan said, his voice echoing around the otherwise silent chamber. “This is Lady Isolde Mackintosh.”
As Struan led her to the head of the table next to him, the men seated around it all stood and gave her a polite bow then reclaimed their seats. She clasped her hands at her waist and gave the Council a courteous curtsy, taking a moment to meet every man’s eyes directly.
“Good mornin’,” she began. “As Laird Cameron said, I am Isolde Mackintosh, daughter of Laird Murdoch Mackintosh.”
She cleared her throat and took a moment to gather herself.
Struan could only imagine the tempest of emotions churning wildly inside of her.
But to her credit, she stood firm. With her jaw clenched, she refused to give into them.
Instead, she straightened her back, her hands still clasped at her waist and began to speak.
“I may nae ken the extent of what me faither’ cruelty has cost tae yer people.
But, if there was somethin’ I could dae tae bring back all ye lost, I would.
In a heartbeat. I’d give me own life tae take away even an ounce of the sufferin’ he’s caused ye all,” she said and Struan was sure she truly meant it.
“And while I cannae change the past, I wish tae share with ye the plans I’ve heard with me own ears.
Finlay Cameron is bein’ held at Cluny House by Laird Dougal MacPherson,” she said.
“I was there when both Finlay and Laird Cameron were brought tae me father’s keep.
‘Twas me faither who suggested they be separated and tae hide Finlay at Cluny House. Tae break any plan the braithers may have had tae escape together.”
Her words hung in the air over the table and Struan, who was also standing next to her, brought his hand to her waist for support.
Isolde spoke firmly and without hesitation. Without fear. He found himself not just impressed by her even more than he had expected, but incredibly proud of her as well.
“Me biggest regret is withholdin’ that information until I kent I was safe. Fer that, I apologize,” she went on. “But I was terrified. Me faither wishes tae wed me tae Dougal to marry and seal their alliance.”
“Their alliance would be disaster for us,” muttered one of the council members, earning nods and murmured agreement from the others.
“When me faither was busy makin’ the match with Dougal, I had the opportunity tae explore Cluny House.
And what I can tell ye is that there is a secret entrance.
I dinnae believe they ken I’ve seen it, but I have,” she said.
“In the woods beyond the north wall, there is a secret hatch that leads tae a tunnel that runs under the curtain wall and intae the keep itself. Ye can move through there undetected tae rescue Finlay.”
It was Owen, the most outspoken of the group, who sat forward. He was quiet for a moment, eyeing her with skepticism on his face. Struan’s body grew taut knowing the onslaught of questions and doubt that would be forthcoming, and he gripped Isolde’s waist harder.
“And how dae we ken ye’re nae tryin’ tae lead us intae a trap then, eh?” he asked.
“I’ve nae love fer me faither. Nor dae I wish tae marry a man as cruel as Dougal MacPherson,” she said firmly. “Ye can choose tae nae believe me, of course. ‘Tis yer choice. But ye asked tae hear from me and this is what I’m sayin’. I am speakin’ true.”
“And how did ye happen tae escape?” Owen asked.
A wan smile touched her lips. “’Twas Laird Cameron who unknowingly provided me with the opportunity,” she said. “When he escaped from me faither’s cells, I used the distraction tae slip away fer meself. I was pursued, of course, but Struan saved me from me faither’s men.”
“’Tis true,” Struan said. “When I came upon her, she was surrounded by her faither’s soldiers, who meant tae drag her back tae Moy Castle in chains.”
Struan watched closely, monitoring everybody’s expressions and body language. What he saw was encouraging. The skepticism had faded from their faces, and they all looked as impressed with her courage and resilience as he was. Even Owen’s naturally skeptical demeanor had ebbed.
“And ye fully understand what Laird Cameron is proposin’ here today, dae ye?” Owen asked.
Isolde turned to him and smiled. “Aye. He wants us tae be wed.”
“And dae ye understand the dangers inherent in that, lass?”
“Aye. I dae.”
“Yer faither could kill ye just fer marryin’ a man without his consent, lass. Fer ruining an alliance he had well secured. Ye still want tae put yerself in a danger like that and marry Laird Cameron, his biggest enemy?”
Her eyes never strayed from his and she smiled. She nodded. She turned to Struan and placed a gentle hand on his cheek, as if she’d forgotten they were standing in front of his Council. But Struan leaned into her hand, savoring the warmth of her skin upon his cheek, and smiled back at her.
“Aye. I dae,” she said. “More than anythin’.”
The chamber was filled with the sound of the men shifting in their seats and quietly murmuring to each other.
There was so much at stake, so much hanging in the balance.
But in that moment, all Struan could see or hear was Isolde.
The glimmer of love in her eyes warmed him from the inside out and he knew that with her by his side, all things were possible.
She made him feel like he could do more. Could do… anything.
“Well, I think I can speak fer the Council,” Owen announced. “And I just want tae say we’re impressed with yer courage and candor, Lady Isolde.”
“Thank ye.”
“And knowin’ all the risk it entails, if ye want tae wed our dear laird, ye’ve got our blessin’,” he said.
“We’d be honored tae have ye as part of our clan, lass.”