Page 9 of A Forbidden Night with a Scot
It was the middle of the night and yet Samuel had the distinct feeling that his friend would still be up and waiting for him. He had failed to mention to Alicia that the reason why he was in MacCallum lands meeting a scout in the first place was because her father had requested his appearance a few days prior and that the letter he had sent had been so urgent that Samuel had left the moment he had the chance. He didn’t know what it was Gavin wanted to tell him, but whatever it was, both Alicia and Katherine seemed unaware and so he didn’t want to risk revealing something they shouldn’t know to them.
His first thought had been war, of course—another clan who sought out more power, perhaps, or al old enemy. As far as Samuel knew, though, Gavin didn’t have any, at least no one who would attack so suddenly. Still, the thought loomed over him and it was what brought him to Gavin’s study that night, knocking on his door.
Under the gap, he could see the flickering light of candles and then a figure approach, pulling the door open. There stood Gavin, looking more haggard than he had seen him in a long while. He was a little older than Samuel himself, turning forty-five that year, but he had always looked youthful and people mistook him for a much younger man. Now, though his hair was still dark, without a trace of white in them, and he kept his broad and lean figure, the circles under his eyes and the clear lack of sleep made him look worse for wear.
“Samuel,” he said, patting him on the shoulder before he pulled him inside and closed the door. Samuel watched him as he rounded his desk and sagged in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face to wake himself up. His study was in disarray—papers laid haphazardly all over the desk, a thin layer of dust coating the bookshelves as though he hadn’t even allowed the maids in. “Did ye only just arrive? What took ye so long?”
As he spoke, Gavin poured them a cup of wine each, handing Samuel his when he sat down across from him. He took it gratefully, taking a sip as Gavin drained his and then promptly refilled it.
It is that bad, then.
It was a bad day when Gavin MacCallum drank without inhibitions. He was not the kind of man to drink himself into a stupor, but now Samuel feared he was doing just that, losing himself in the alcohol.
“I went tae meet one o’ me scouts in a tavern,” he said. He had made Alicia a promise and he wasn’t going to go back on it, so he didn’t mention her or Katherine at all. “He was near, so I thought I would meet with him afore I came here, but I was involved in a fight.”
“A fight?” Gavin asked and for the first time that night, Samuel heard him laugh. “Laird MacDougall gettin’ involved in a fight with drunkards?”
“Well, they didnae ken who I was an’ they were botherin’ a lass,” said Samuel with a small shrug. “I wasnae goin’ tae leave without helpin’ her.”
“Ye’re a good man, Samuel,” said Gavin as he raised his cup to him in a toast. “A good man.”
Once upon a time, Samuel would have bashfully agreed, perhaps, accepting his friend’s praise, but now there was something in his mind that gave him pause. From the moment he had laid eyes upon Alicia that evening, he could not take his mind off her. Even now, he was thinking about her; her brown hair falling in waves down her back, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief whenever their gazes had met—even with anger, sometimes, which was just as endearing to him—her scent as the two of them had rode through the forest earlier that night.
Her bravery as she had turned around and hit that man with the branch in her hands, all so that she could get Samuel out of there.
These were certainly not thoughts he should be having about her. He had known her for so long and she had never been anything more than a sweet girl. When had she become a woman? How could it be that so much time had passed since the last time he had seen her?
It was nothing, he told himself. It was merely the shock of seeing her so grown up that kept bringing her to the forefront of his mind, forcing him to consider her a woman with all her feminine characteristics. He had always been terribly fond of Alicia, after all, and seeing that girl he had once known grow up so fast was an adjustment for which he had not been prepared. But it had not beenthatlong since he had last seen her…
“So, why did ye call me here?” Samuel asked in an effort to distract himself from such impure thoughts. “What happened?”
Gavin took a deep, shuddering breath, the kind that was filled with so much grief, Samuel couldn’t help but think something terrible had happened. “Laird MacTavish sent me a letter askin’ fer Alicia’s hand in marriage.”
“Declan MacTavish?” Samuel asked in disbelief, a humorless chuckle escaping him. Surely, he thought, he must have misheard. “Ye cannae be serious.”
“I am very serious,” said Gavin and proceeded to drain the second cup of wine. Now Samuel could understand why he had turned to alcohol. He, too, finished the rest of his wine and held his cup out for Gavin to refill it, needing all the strength he couldget from it. “It has been over two weeks since I received it an’ I havenae responded tae him yet.”
“Well, ye must refuse!” What else was there to do? Declan MacTavish should not have been bold enough to send that letter in the first place, considering he was almost thirty years Alicia’s senior. He was even older than Gavin himself, and as far as Samuel was concerned, Alicia shouldn’t be forced to wed a man older than her own father. “Write tae him immediately an’ say ye willnae allow it.”
“Ye think I wish tae wed her tae him?” Gavin asked, sounding so miserable at the prospect that Samuel’s heart ached with sympathy. “But the king has already agreed tae this. Here.”
Samuel reached for the letter Gavin held out to him—one of the many papers strewn over his desk. He perused it, then read it again, this time with more care.
The letter had the king’s seal, one which ordered Gavin to marry one of his daughters to Laird MacTavish.
O’ course it would be Alicia. She is the older o’ the two.
Samuel could hardly contain his anger. Alicia was too good, too kind, too precious to be given to a man who could have been her father. She was too good to be married off for an alliance like this, when she could have a better life with someone far more suitable.
“What other choice dae I have, Samuel?” Gavin asked. “Shall I go against the king? Shall I pass up on this opportunity? Clan MacTavish is strong and wealthy one. They would be valuable allies an’ we need all the allies we can have now. We have been weakened. We dinnae have much land, we dinnae have much wealth left. The last three winters have been destructive. Our crops, our cattle… all dead. What else am I tae dae?”
“I can help,” Samuel offered without any hesitation. “I can help, Gavin. Ye ken that ye can ask me fer anythin’ ye need an’ I will give it tae ye. We’ve been friends all our lives. I willnae leave yer clan tae suffer.”
From across the desk, Gavin gave him a small, grateful smile. “Thank ye,” he said. “But there is only that much ye can dae fer me an’ there is only that much I can ask o’ ye.”
“Anythin’,” Samuel insisted. “Anythin’ ye need.”
Gavin looked at Samuel ruefully, shaking his head. “Ye ken it’s more than that. The king?—”
