Текст книги "My daring highlander"

Автор книги: Vonda Sinclair

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Keegan’s stomach knotted as they entered the dimly lit great hall of Gillenmor Castle, but he didn’t let his unease show. He tried to focus on doing his job, his duty for Dirk and the clan, and not the fact that he was bringing the woman he loved to a place where he might have to leave her. Nay, he would not. He was taking her out of here, one way or another.

“Well, ’tis about time,” a deep, rough voice called out. A man, dressed in the Lowland or English style, stood from his elevated seat at the high table, stepped down and strode forward to greet them. Keegan assumed he was Chief Ambrose Murray, Seona’s father. He was stocky, with gray hair. His clean-shaven face was flushed, either from being too close to the fire or too much whisky. With a narrow-eyed gaze, he inspected Seona first.

“A good eve to you, Father.” She curtsied, keeping her eyes downcast.

Keegan frowned, his instincts going on high alert for he sensed her fear.

“Seona,” Murray said, then lifted his gaze to scan over the faces of those who had come inside. Several of the guards and servants had remained outside, seeing to the horses and making sure the healer attended the injured men’s wounds.

“We brought Lady Seona and Lady Patience home in Chief MacKay’s stead,” Keegan said. “He was injured in a skirmish during our travels. And he sent you a gift.”

“Who are you?” Chief Murray asked in a stern voice, his brown eyes hostile.

“Keegan MacKay, m’laird.” He bowed. “Tanist and cousin of Chief MacKay. I’m honored to meet you.”

“Ah.” He shook Keegan’s hand briefly, then turned his attention to the other men. “And who else do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

“This is Dermott MacKenzie and his brother, Fraser.” Keegan motioned to them. “They are younger brothers of Chief MacKenzie.”

“I stayed here for a couple of nights last year,” Dermott said. “Good to see you again, m’laird.”

Murray shook both their hands. “Aye,” he said in a neutral tone.

Keegan motioned to Rebbie. “And this is Robert MacInnis, the Earl of Rebbinglen.”

Chief Murray’s bushy gray brows shot up and his demeanor switched, almost as if he were a different person. “Earl of Rebbinglen?” He stepped forward and gave Rebbie a long, solemn handshake while studying him. “’Tis my great pleasure and honor to meet you again, Laird Rebbinglen. I remember when you were a wee lad.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Chief Murray.”

“You have the look of your father. How is he?”

Rebbie grinned. “Still as ornery as ever.”

“Ha.” With what might be called a grin, Murray slapped Rebbie on the shoulder, then released his hand.

After scanning the rest of the MacKay party and apparently dismissing them, he motioned those he’d met forward. “’Tis time for supper. Please join us.”

Keegan frowned, watching the ladies and the others of their party proceed to the high table, then he followed. Something here was not right and Keegan didn’t like it.

“Rebbinglen,” Chief Murray said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Please join me.”

Keegan eyed the man, noticing he’d said nothing else to his daughter and had only nodded to his sister, Lady Patience. What Keegan had heard all along was true then—above all, Chief Murray valued prestige. Titles. Wealth. Keegan felt as if a blade had stabbed into his stomach. His chances of gaining the man’s permission to marry Seona were going to be nonexistent… unless Rebbie could soften him up and convince him otherwise. Keegan was suddenly very glad Rebbie had accompanied them.

Keegan approached the high table, and when he saw the vacant seat beside Seona, he took it. He’d be daft not to seize any opportunity to be near her, though he was unsure how Chief Murray would feel about this.

***

Seona couldn’t believe Keegan was sitting beside her. With her father only a few seats away? Saints. If he perceived that either of them paid much attention to the other, he’d fly into a rage, no matter who looked on. Her stomach knotted and ached. She wouldn’t be able to eat a bite. She wished she could take her leave of the table, go to her chamber and rest, but to do so would draw her father’s angry attention.

Thankfully, he was too busy entertaining Laird Rebbinglen to notice much else. Rebbie told him of the recent skirmish that had taken place just beyond Gillenmor.

Seona glanced around, not spotting her sister. She was likely still with Cousin Genevieve.

While the food was being served, Seona was able to relax marginally. She had no appetite for the leek and pea soup. Her attention was drawn to Keegan, beside her. From the corner of her eye, she observed his big strong hands, his muscular arms beneath his doublet, and his plaid. She found his manly scent most appealing.

“Are you not hungry, Lady Seona?” he asked in a conversational tone.

“Nay. Not overmuch.” She lifted her wooden spoon and forced herself to take a bite.

He removed two slices of bread from the large platter close to him and gave her one.

“I thank you.”

Once Keegan had finished his soup, he placed his hands on his thighs. She knew she was mad, but she could scarce eat for thinking what his thighs might look like bare. She’d seen his naked calves often enough beneath the bottom of his belted plaid. They were muscular and lightly furred with golden hairs. Likely his thighs were the same. She had not been able to see them well in the low light when he’d waded from the loch, but she remembered the hard feel of his thighs beneath her when he’d put her on the horse in front of him.

Mo creach! She had to think of something else, but how could she with him sitting so close?

Though she refused to look at him, she felt his attention on her. She prayed he wasn’t staring at her. Someone would surely notice.

Beneath the table, he moved his knee against hers and left it there.

She froze, unable to believe what he was doing. She glanced around, making sure no one was watching. They weren’t; their attention was on the roasted grouse being served. She released her held breath.

Though she loved sitting by Keegan, she didn’t know how much more tension she could handle.

***

After the meal, when the music and singing was underway for the evening’s entertainment, Chief Murray rose from his chair and ambled toward Seona. Her heart vaulted into her throat. Had he seen Keegan staring at her?

“I would have a word with you in my meeting room,” her father said, motioning her impatiently toward the door.

“Aye, Father.” Her stomach felt queasy and she wished she hadn’t eaten a bite. She proceeded into the smaller room, just off the great hall, which contained a table covered in papers, a desk, and all sorts of books. The fire had burned down to embers but the room was still warm. Too bad her father was not. Nay, the look in his dark eyes was cold.

He took a seat behind his imposing oak desk. “So, why is it that you return to me unmarried to the MacKay chief?”

Oh heavens. How was she supposed to respond to that without making Dirk out to be a villain?

“He did not wish to marry me.” ’Twas the only reason she could think of. And the truth.

“Why?” he demanded.

“I explained in the missive I sent—”

“I had an agreement and a written contract with his father, Griff MacKay! Why did they choose to break that oath?”

Seona drew in a deep breath, then released it, forcing herself to remain calm. “As you ken, Chief Griff MacKay passed last fall. There was some dispute as to which of his three sons would be the new chief. We all thought Aiden was the eldest living son. He, in fact, became chief for about a month. Then Dirk MacKay returned. He is the eldest son, but everyone thought him dead for twelve years. Because he is more suited than Aiden to be a chief and ’twas proven he was indeed the eldest son of Chief Griff, the clan appointed him the new chief.”

“And why did you not marry this Dirk MacKay? Why did he not honor the contract his father sighed five years ago?”

“He was already…” How should she say this? Already in love with Lady Isobel? Nay, that wasn’t good enough. Emotion held no sway for her father.

“Well, come on, lass. Spit it out! Already what?”

“Already betrothed to another lady,” she said. Her chest tightened with the lie. It was the only excuse she could think of at the moment. Dirk had not been betrothed to Isobel at that point, but he was in love with her. That was no doubt a stronger pull for him.

“Already betrothed?” her father thundered.

“Aye.”

“To who?”

“Lady Isobel MacKenzie.”

“You did not mention this in the missive.”

He had a point and she knew not how to counter it. “They married very soon after they arrived.”

That much was true. Though it was a few weeks.

“Anyway, Dirk MacKay knew naught of the contract before he arrived in Durness,” she added. She’d had to tell the fib about Dirk and Isobel being betrothed; otherwise, her father might grow enraged with Chief MacKay and attack. The last thing she wanted was clan war. She wanted Isobel, Dirk and all the MacKays to be safe. They were like family to her… more so than her own clan. Nor did she want her father to take his wrath out on Keegan, who was acting as Dirk’s representative.

But what if Aunt Patience told her father a different story? Saints! Had she made a terrible mistake with that white lie? It didn’t hurt anyone. In fact, it kept everyone safe. Mayhap the warning she’d given her aunt about exposing her affair with MacMillan would still hold in this case as well. She needed to talk to her again.

“This whole story sounds far-fetched to me,” her father grumbled. “The MacKays know not how to keep their word.” He rose from his chair and moved toward the door. After yanking it open, he told his personal bodyguard, standing just outside the door, to fetch Lady Patience.

Mo creach! Seona would be in trouble if her aunt told a different story.

Aunt Patience entered and her father closed the door.

“Sister, explain the MacKay situation. It makes no sense to me,” her father said.

“I told Father how Dirk was already betrothed to Lady Isobel and this is why I couldn’t marry him,” Seona rushed to say, giving her aunt a meaningful look while her father’s back was turned.

Her aunt sent her a narrow-eyed glare.

“Let her explain it. I’ve already heard your side,” her father ordered.

“Aye,” Patience said hesitantly, her expression shifting from angry to pleasant. “I heard that some of the clan thought they were already married when they arrived in Durness. There were abundant rumors that they’d already been intimate and a bairn might result.”

“Damned barbarians,” her father said gruffly. His gaze shifted between Seona and her aunt for a long tense moment. “That will be all, Seona.”

She headed toward the door, then realized Patience hadn’t been dismissed. She let herself out, praying her aunt didn’t reveal anything that would anger her father. If he knew the truth of it, he would be enraged.

As Seona waited a few yards from the door for her aunt to emerge from the private conference with her father, she thought of her sister, glad she was still staying with Cousin Genevieve. At least she hoped she was, but she would love to see her. It had been many months.

When one of the kitchen servants passed nearby, Seona asked, “Is my sister still with my cousin?”

“Lady Seona.” The maid curtsied. “Nay, Lady Talia is in her bedchamber.”

What? Seona frowned. Why had she not joined them for supper?

“I thank you for telling me.” Seona rushed up the narrow spiral stair to the floor above and knocked at Talia’s chamber door. They were so close that normally they didn’t knock; they simply barged in. Impatient, she tried to open the door but it didn’t budge.

Why had her sister locked the door?

“Talia? Are you in there?” Seona tried to keep her voice low.

“Who is it?” The mumbled response sounded sleepy. Was her sister napping?

“’Tis Seona.”

“Seona?” Talia’s tone was more excited now. “You are home?”

“Aye. Unlock the door.”

“I cannot. Father locked me in here.”

An icy shock went through Seona. “Why?”

“I angered him,” she said in an uneven voice.

“Are you crying? What happened?” Heavens! How she wished she could get inside and see her sister. “Did Father hurt you?”

“Aye,” she said low, very close to the other side of the door. “He hit me and I fell.”

Seona clenched her teeth. Damn the man. Though she might be breaking a commandment and dishonoring her father, the man was the very devil.

She blew out a breath and tried to sound calm. “How badly are you hurt?”

“The maid said it looks worse than it is.”

Dear heavens, it had to be bad, then. “How does it look?”

“I have a bruise on my face,” Talia said.

“What else? Any cuts or broken bones?”

“Nay, but I have another bruise on my arm where it struck the bed frame.”

Saints! Seona wished she could lash out at her father in the same way, but he was strong and stocky. He had knocked her down before. When she was a wee lass, she remembered him treating her poor mother the same way. She had to get Talia away from him.

“What was he trying to make you do?” Seona asked.

“He wants me to marry Chief Comyn. He is an old man, Seona,” Talia sobbed.

Not only that, but the man was notorious for being ruthless and vile. What could she do to help her sister? She well knew fathers in the Highlands chose husbands for their daughters, but hers was determined to find the worst possible husbands for them to ensure their lives would be hell on earth.

“Since he received your missive months ago, he has been hunting a husband for you as well,” Talia said.

Dark dread slammed into Seona’s gut. “Who has he mentioned?”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Seona stood outside her sister’s door, waiting to hear the name of the man her father planned to marry her off to. Although a title meant naught to her, at the moment she wished Keegan had the grandest title in the land, simply so she’d be allowed to marry him.

“Talia?” Seona asked, moisture burning her eyes. “Tell me who.”

“Laird Wentworth from further south. He is a baron.”

She didn’t know whether to be relieved that he was none of the horrid chiefs she knew, or more terrified of the unknown. “I have never heard of him. Have you seen him?”

“Aye, he visited. He is not terribly old. I would say thirty summers. But you would not like him. He is pompous and arrogant.”

“Perfect,” Seona muttered, hating her father more with each second that passed.

Footsteps clomped up the stairwell behind her.’Twas Fleming, one of the guards who had worked here forever. Although his hair was mostly gray, he was still a brawny man. “What are you about? Oh. Lady Seona, welcome home.” He bowed.

“I thank you, Fleming. I wish to go in and speak to my sister. Have you the key?”

“Aye, but I must ask Chief Murray.”

“Please do.”

Fleming disappeared down the stairwell.

Seona turned back to the door. “How long have you been locked in there?”

“Five days,” Talia said.

“Good Lord. Have the maids brought you food?”

“Aye.”

“And are you eating?”

“Aye.”

Seona was glad for that at least, but she needed to see if her sister had lost weight. When Talia was upset, she would sometimes avoid meals. “Why did you not remain with Cousin Genevieve?” She would’ve been safe and cared for there, at least.

“I did for several months, but when spring arrived, Father came to retrieve me.”

“I see.”

“So he could find me a husband.” Talia started crying again. “I won’t marry the beast!”

Footsteps echoed on the stone steps.

“Shh… the guard is returning. Move away from the door.”

Fleming came into view. “Your father said you could visit with your sister.” He unlocked the door.

“I thank you,” Seona said, then entered the room.

The lock clicked behind her, giving her a cold chill.

Talia lit a candle from the hearth fire and placed it on a nearby table. Seona hurried to her and, when Talia faced her, Seona couldn’t believe the bruise covering the left side of her face. Her cheek was purple with tinges of green and yellow. At least it appeared to be healing.

“Oh, heavens, Talia.” Tears filling her eyes, Seona stroked the uninjured side of her sister’s sweet face. ’Twas almost as if they were wee girls again, huddling in a chamber, hoping their father stayed far away.

Talia grabbed her in a hug and sobbed against her shoulder. Seona embraced her tightly and stroked her back. “Shh, tis all right.”

Never had their father given Seona such a huge bruise, though he had slapped her hard four different times. Seona had always tried to protect her younger sister. She regretted that she hadn’t been here this time, but she’d had no choice in the matter.

Talia pulled back and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. “I’ve decided, if I can get out of this room, I’m going to run away.”

“What? Where would you go?”

“I know not. Anywhere.”

“Talia—”

“Nay. Do not try to talk me out of it.”

Certainly Seona had dreamed of running away, too, but she had never seriously considered it because she had to stay and protect her sister. Plus, as women, they had no means. No money, aside from what their father gave them. They had no relatives in distant villages who might hide them. All their relatives were close-by, and worst of all, they were loyal to her father… or they feared him.

If only Seona could have married one of the MacKays. Keegan, of course, was the man she wanted so desperately to marry, but she feared her father would not even consider it. If she could’ve married a decent man, she’d hoped to bring her sister to live with her. But now she knew that might not be possible, if her father was bent on arranging a marriage between Talia and the Comyn chief.

Seona’s stomach pained her for she was trapped just as she’d always been.

“We must think of a solution,” she told Talia.

“I have. I’m running away.”

“Do you have a plan? How will you support yourself? Where will you stay? How will you buy food?”

Talia crumpled onto the bench near the hearth. “I know not,” she sobbed.

Seona sat beside her and rubbed her back. “Shh. We must think.”

Heavens! If only Seona could marry Keegan, she could take Talia with her to Durness and keep her safe. Away from old, beastly chiefs who wanted to marry young girls. Talia would love staying with the MacKays. They were a lively and considerate group. The man Seona loved and her best friend were among them. To think of never seeing them again broke her heart. They were her true family.

Keegan had said he was going to ask her father for her hand. Would he still do this after having met her father? Keegan was a strong, brave man and Seona couldn’t see him being intimidated by her father. Although perhaps he should be, given her father’s ruthlessness.

If only Laird Rebbinglen could convince her father to see Keegan’s merits. Tanist was no small position within a clan. But more importantly, Keegan was an honorable, protective, and responsible man. Unfortunately, these admirable qualities were not of utmost importance to her father.

Her stomach knotted when she imagined Keegan standing before her father, asking for her hand. She feared her father would fly into an instant rage and try to hurt Keegan.

“I’m tired of thinking about all this,” Talia said. “Tell me of your adventures in the north and why you didn’t marry the MacKay chief.”

There was so much. How could Seona possibly tell her sister of everything she’d seen and experienced since last autumn? “You must promise not to tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t tell. I promise.”

Seona told her of how beautiful Durness was in the spring, but how harsh and cold in the winter, and how she and their aunt had traveled from Tongue to Durness in the bitter cold. She told her of the friendly, fun-loving MacKay clan and how she envied Dirk and Isobel’s love match. She told her of the battles they’d endured on their journey south again and how Haldane MacKay wanted to kidnap her. Seona knew not how long she talked. She could go on for hours about the MacKays and Isobel and how she enjoyed spending time with them.

“What are you not telling me?” Talia asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I can tell you’re keeping a secret.”

Keegan was her secret. A few of the men knew, of course. But dare she tell her sister? She had always kept her secrets. Talia disliked Aunt Patience’s spying as much as Seona did. And how could Seona not tell her sister the most amazing thing that had happened to her—she’d fallen in love with a most remarkable man.

“What is that grin?” Talia asked.

Seona hadn’t realized she was grinning. She immediately tried to control her expression.

“Is it a man? You met someone in Durness and fell in love,” Talia said in an excited tone, her eyes wide.

“Aye,” Seona admitted in a low voice, her face burning.

Talia grabbed Seona’s hands. “Tell me about him! What is his name?”

“You must promise to tell no one. Lives could be in danger.”

“I promise not to tell anyone.” Talia almost bounced upon the bench.

“Very well. His name is Keegan MacKay,” Seona whispered. “He is the cousin of Chief MacKay and the clan’s tanist.”

Talia grinned, her dark eyes alight with excitement. “What is he like? Is he handsome and kind?”

“Aye, indeed. The kindest and most handsome man I have ever laid eyes upon. He protected me during the journey here.”

“What does he look like?”

“He has a beautiful, charming smile, pale blue eyes, and tawny-brown hair. He is tall and strong. A warrior.”

“He sounds a dream! How old is he?”

“Six-and-twenty. He has told me he loves me.”

“Oh, Seona. I’m so happy you found someone.” Talia hugged her.

“He asked me to marry him, but I fear Father will not allow it.”

Talia pulled back, her expression somber. “’Tis unfair. You must find a way to be with him.”

“More than anything, I wish there was a way. Keegan is tanist and next in line to be chief, but you know as well as I that is not enough for Father.”

“He is obsessed with wealthy lairds and chiefs.”

“Aye, and I fear when Keegan asks him for my hand, he will insult Keegan horribly, or try to hurt him.”

***

Unable to believe his good fortune, Chief Ambrose Murray showed Laird Rebbinglen into his private meeting room and they took seats near the warm hearth. During supper, he’d learned that Rebbinglen was unmarried. To have one of his daughters marry an earl would be more than he could’ve imagined. He poured two small crystal glasses of whisky and gave one to the dark-haired young man. He remembered seeing the lad when he was around five summers. ’Twas hard to believe he was such a big strong man now and obviously well-liked and respected.

“Slàinte.” Murray swallowed a generous gulp of the fiery liquid, enjoying the burn and trying to think of the most diplomatic way to bring up this most important subject. “Laird Rebbinglen—”

The earl held up his hand. “I’d be pleased if you would call me Rebbie as my friends do.”

Murray smiled. ’Twas almost as if they were family already. “I would be honored. Everyone calls me Murray, friends and enemies alike.”

“Murray.” Rebbie lifted his glass again.

“Rebbie,” he began again, though he felt awkward not calling the esteemed man a more formal name. “I thank you for bringing my daughter home and keeping her safe.”

“Well, I—”

“Nay. I ken you will deny it, being the good man that you are. But I’m certain my daughter felt much safer with you than the rest of those men.”

Rebbie shrugged. “In truth, I wasn’t the one guarding her. ’Twas Keegan MacKay who kept her safe during the entire journey. He is the best of men, highly honorable like his cousin, the chief. They were practically cut from the same cloth.”

Murray waved off his humility. Besides that, he didn’t want to hear any more about the detestable MacKays—men who couldn’t keep their word.

“’Haps you would like Keegan MacKay to join us,” Rebbie suggested. “He was the one Chief Dirk MacKay sent with a gift for you.”

“What gift?” Murray did remember a gift being mentioned earlier. So, this Dirk MacKay sought to mollify him for breaking the contract of his father.

“A fine stallion,” Rebbie said with enthusiasm.

“Aye? Very good.” If the earl thought the horse was fine, then indeed it must be. “I will look him over on the morrow. Please send Chief MacKay my thanks.”

Rebbie gave a sincere nod. “I will do that.”

“You were very generous to travel with the MacKays to bring my daughter home. I’m certain you have far more important things to do.”

Rebbie shrugged. “’Twas no trouble at all.”

“Are you related to the MacKays, then?” Murray had to figure out their connection.

“Chief Dirk MacKay has been a very good friend of mine for a decade. We attended university together and traveled on the continent.”

“Ah. I see. Well, the MacKay party was lucky to have you leading them in the absence of their chief. I’m certain they listened to your decisions. If not, they were daft.”

Rebbie gave an enigmatic grin. “Well… I thank you for your confidence in me but Keegan—”

“How could I not have? You’re an experienced soldier, an earl, and a future marquess.” Murray near had heart palpitations at the thought that one day his daughter could be the wife of a marquess. And his grandson, one day a marquess, too. But first, he must convince Rebbinglen he needed Seona… or Talia… as his wife.

Murray gulped the last of his whisky. “One day soon, you will want fine sons—an heir—to follow in your exalted footsteps.”

Rebbie quirked a brow, his dark brown eyes taking on a displeased look.

“I have two beautiful, sweet daughters. You have met Seona and, on the morrow… or the day after, you will meet Talia. She is eighteen summers, and just as lovely as Seona. I am providing them both with generous dowries, including land… not that you have need of it, of course, but ’tis always good to have a few more acres.”

Rebbie was already shaking his head and sitting back further in his chair. “I thank you, Murray, but I’m not looking for a wife at present,” he said firmly.

Too firmly.

Damn. Murray shoved to his feet and paced, then poured more whisky into their empty glasses. How could he convince the stubborn earl? What did he want? What did he value most?

“Well, I can understand that. You are a young man who doesn’t want to be tied down, but it need not be that way.” Murray forced himself to stop pacing and sit in the cushioned chair across from Rebbie. “While I was married, ’twas almost like I wasn’t really. I was five-and-twenty when I married Seona’s mother, but I still dallied with the lasses everywhere I found a willing one. And there were plenty, let me tell you.” He grinned.

Rebbie frowned, his mouth a firm line. “You want your daughter’s husband, whoever he may be, to be unfaithful to her?”

Murray shrugged. “He will be whether I approve of it or not. Aye?” He laughed. “A wife is for providing heirs. For bed-sport, a man must look elsewhere. The buxom village lasses are far more entertaining betwixt the sheets.”

Looking morose, Rebbie stared down into his whisky. What was the man thinking? His dark eyes made reading him near impossible. He was no doubt a rogue like any other man his age, and the lasses probably chased after him, considering how handsome he was.

“Once you married her and took her to one of your estates, you would only need to see her once a year or so,” Murray said.

Setting his unfinished glass aside, Rebbie stood. “I hope you will forgive me, Murray, but I’m tired and would like to retire for the night.”

“Och. Of course.” Murray leapt to his feet. “Forgive me for keeping you up so late.” It wasn’t late but he must somehow appease the earl. “Although I’m certain our guest chamber is not up to your standards, ’tis our best one. I’ll have one of the bonny maids take you to it.” He winked.

Rebbie gave a tight grin. “I thank you for your generous hospitality.”

After instructing one of his guards to find Abigail and have her escort Rebbie to his chamber, Murray closed the door. He was a hellishly obstinate man. Murray had to figure out what the earl desired most. Rebbie had shown no interest in the money or land. Nay, he already had plenty of that.

He would have to listen carefully to what Rebbie said from now on. By hook or by crook, he would discover a bit of leverage. Horses, perhaps. Murray had plenty of them. Or could he somehow trick or blackmail the earl into marrying either Seona or Talia? Had he found Seona lacking somehow? Was that why he had no interest in her?

Talia might be a good choice, but he’d already promised her to the Comyn. And she had to stay locked in her room until that ugly bruise healed. How had he sired such fragile, weak daughters? Both of them annoyed him to no end. He wanted them both married and settled with the men he chose so he wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore.

***

Lying in one of the four small cots, Keegan was unable to sleep in the bedchamber that he shared with the MacKenzies, but across the room, the brothers were snoozing away.

Keegan could think of naught but Seona. What would he say to her father on the morrow? How would he convince the harsh and unyielding man of his worth? It seemed hopeless.

But he could not fail in this. If he did, how would he face his future without her? She had come to be his life.

A light tap sounded at the door, startling Keegan. He sat up. Before he could get out of bed, the door opened and Rebbie entered, carrying a candle.

“Keegan. We must talk,” he whispered.

“Aye, have a seat.” Keegan sat on the edge of the bed while Rebbie took the wooden chair nearby and set the candle on the small table. The MacKenzies continued their light snoring.

“I talked to Murray at length,” Rebbie said.

A sinking feeling punched into Keegan’s gut. “Aye. And?”

“He’s trying to convince me to marry Seona or his other daughter. He’s the most status-hungry man I have ever encountered.”

“’Slud.” Of course. Why had Keegan not realized earlier that her father would be drooling over an earl who was still a bachelor?

“He does not care one whit what kind of man Seona marries, so long as he has a title, land, and money. Nor does he care how her husband would treat her. He would even encourage the man to be unfaithful.”

“Damn him.” Keegan wanted to knock the daft old whoreson on his arse. How could he care so little for his own flesh and blood? “’Tis as I suspected. He’s a horse’s arse and a bastard. And he cares naught for Seona. Still… tomorrow I will ask him for her hand.”