Page 58 of Kilted Abduction
Edmund had been formulating this plan for a long time. But he’d needed to find a willing dupe to put it all into action. Laird Robert MacDougal, a man whose grasp far exceeded his reach, had proven to be the perfect useful idiot to make it all happen. Edmund might not ever be able to be the King of England, but he could certainly carve out his own kingdom to rule over. It simply required determination and an iron will. And he had those things in spades.
MacDougal took another drink and pursed his lips. “I dae feel I must apologize tae ye, me lord. I didnae anticipate me daughter bein’ so… difficult. I underestimated her and that is me fault. I am sorry fer that, but I promise tae make it right.”
“I have no doubt that you will, Laird MacDougal. But I should tell you now that I do not foresee your daughter’s spirit weakening once we are wed,” Edmund said. “I will need to make her see the error of her ways and correct her misbehavior.”
The large Scotsman shrugged. “Once ye’re wed, ye’re free tae dae with her as ye please.”
Edmund inclined his head. “I am very pleased to hear you say that.”
“’Tis the way of the world,” he replied. “I just want tae make sure, before ye’re wed, that our agreement is ironclad. That we have papers attesting tae all we agreed tae.”
“The papers have already been drawn up, rest assured. You will have a garrison here at your command to enforce your will. You may also use them to expand your territory,” he said. “And as per our agreement, once your daughter and I sire an heir, what’s yours will become his, once he is of age and you are no longer part of this world. You will hold all your lands and titles until your passing, which will then pass on to my heir. Is this satisfactory?”
“Save fer one item,” he said.
“And what is that?”
“Me daughter’s dowry.”
The man was greedier than a hog at a full trough. Edmund bit back the scathing reply that sat upon his tongue, silently reminding himself that MacDougal was a useful idiot and nothing more… and that his usefulness would end sooner rather than later.
“Of course,” Edmund said patiently. “One thousand gold crowns, as agreed upon. I trust that in addition to the garrison and the titles that will be conferred upon you once the marriage has been consummated will suffice?”
MacDougal’s eyes glittered and he licked his lips. “Actually, I wanted tae speak tae ye about that. I was hopin’ we could negotiate a bit more.”
Edmund ground his teeth so hard, he could have shattered stone. Of course, the man wanted to renegotiate their already agreed upon dowry. Edmund stood corrected. Not even hogs at a filled trough were as greedy as this man. Especially after he had let the girl escape the castle and they were now stuck in this very unpleasant situation because of it. He swallowed the insults he wanted to hurl, reminding himself yet again that he was playing the long game.
“And what is it you believe to be a fair bride price, Laird MacDougal?”
“I was thinking two thousand gold crowns sounded about right,” he replied smoothly. “She is me only daughter, after all.”
It took all of Edmund’s will to keep his dagger in it sheath instead of plunging it into the Scotsman’s throat. He balled his hands into fists at his sides and tried to put a pleasant smile on his face instead. He managed it, but only because he had an iron will.
“That is fair, Laird MacDougal. I will agree to the revised bride price,” he said. “But this will be the end of negotiations.”
“’Tis acceptable tae me.”
“Wonderful,” Edmund said. “But none of this will matter if we cannot find your daughter.”
“We’ll find her, me lord?—”
Before he finished his statement though, the doors to the hall banged open and a harried, dirty, and disheveled looking man burst in. He rushed to the foot of the dais where MacDougal stood and fell to his knees, lowering his head in supplication. His breath was ragged, and he looked as if he’d been running for days. Edmund stepped forward, curious.
“What is the meaning of this, Gavan?” MacDougal growled angrily. “Dae ye nae see I’m in consultation with Lord Fairfax?”
“Me laird, I’m sorry for burstin’ in like this. I ken ‘tis improper, but I bring news,” he said.
MacDougal glanced at Edmund, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. Edmund knew what was coming and felt a ball of excited energy forming in his belly.
“Well? Speak, Gavan,” MacDougal ordered. “What is this news?”
“Ciara. She’s been found, me laird.”
“And? Where is she?”
“She’s on the Isle of Skye under the protection of the MacLeods.”
A slow, feral smile touched Edmund’s lips. It wasn’t ideal. The MacLeods were meant to be dealt with last, as the last rung on the ladder he’d been building. But it seemed that fate had other ideas. He was going to have to do it at some point anyway, so he would get them out of the way first. It hadn’t been his plan, but so be it.
