Page 11 of Bound to a Scot
The man gave him a magnanimous wave. “Of course. We’re honored tae have ye here.”
Based on his previous conversations with the man, Maddox didn’t think there was going to be a way to get out of sealing this alliance without marrying the girl to his left. She was comely andwould no doubt grow into a stunning woman. Maddox, though, couldn’t get over the fact that she was a girl. A girl who’d seen just fifteen summers. Macfie might be fine with marrying and bedding a girl who was just out of pigtails, but Maddox wasn’t. When he looked at Cecilia, he didn’t see a woman.
But the man was intractable. He refused to consider any arrangement that didn’t end with Maddox taking a child bride. Part of him wanted to scuttle the whole alliance and be done with it. But Adair’s voice kept echoing through his mind and he kept hearing the word “sacrifice.” His people were hungry. Unrest was rising. As their laird, it was his responsibility to care for them. Maddox knew if he didn’t do something to aid them, he wouldn’t have much of an army left to give to Laird Macfie.
Macfie cleared his throat. “Me daughter loves to draw,” he said. “Fancies herself an artist.”
Maddox nodded and gave the lass a small smile. “Is that so?”
“I dinnae ken about fancyin’ meself an artist, but I like tae draw, aye,” she said. “I also like tae read. Very much.”
“’Tis true. She’s read every book in me own library at least twice,” Macfie said.
“Dae ye have a library in yer own keep, Laird MacLachlan?” she asked.
“Aye. I dae,” he replied.
“Oh, ‘tis wonderful tae hear,” Cecilia said. “I dinnae think I could live without a library. They’re like the very air tae me.”
Maddox swallowed down the lump of emotion that formed in his throat. His late wife had been fond of reading too. In fact, he’d built the entire library in his keep just to make her happy. It was a memory that sent wave of bile into his throat which was quickly followed by a surge of the blackest of furies. His feelings for his dead wife were complex and unpredictable. Waves of emotion hit him at the strangest times with seemingly little provocation.
Emmeline, who’d been silent to that point, took a sip of her wine and set her cup down then turned to Maddox. Their eyes met and he felt the same bolt of lightning shoot through his veins he’d felt the moment he’d seen her in the common room at the inn. His throat grew dry and he swallowed hard, trying to work some moisture into his mouth.
“So, me husband tells me ye’re tae marry Cecilia,” she said.
Her voice, though soft, carried a hard edge to it that matched the dark gleam in her eyes. It was more than clear to Maddox that she was not pleased about her daughter being married off to solidify an alliance. On that point, at least, they could agree.
“Aye,” Maddox said. “Seems tae be needed tae forge this alliance.”
“So, ye’re all right marryin’ such a young lass, then?” she asked.
“Ye’ll have tae forgive me wife,” Macfie said with a hostile glare at Emmeline. “She sometimes forgets her place and tends tae speak out of turn.”
Maddox frowned. “I’d be surprised if she didnae have thoughts on a man of me years marryin’ her daughter?—”
“Stepdaughter,” Macfie corrected. “Cecilia is me child with me first wife. I married Emmeline after she passed on. So, she’s nae her real daughter.”
Emmeline’s face darkened at his words and Maddox could see she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. Being reminded Cecilia wasn’t her trueborn daughter had obviously struck a nerve with her.
“Well, it seems tae me that she’s raised the girl. Makes her as much her mother as anythin’, I’d reckon,” Maddox said.
“Except by blood,” Macfie said coldly.
Maddox gritted his teeth. “Anyway, I’d personally welcome the input of me wife. I’d demand it, actually. I’ve found that womenfolk tend tae have a better grasp of things than we men dae at times. They tend tae be more level-headed than us.”
Macfie chuckled. “’Tis but one of the many differences between us, Laird MacLachlan,” he said. “Even still, we shouldnae let that come between us fer the sake of our alliance. After all, we’re naelookin’ tae rule each other’s clan. So, ye rule yers the way ye want, I’ll rule mine the same.”
“Indeed,” Maddox said, then turned to Emmeline. “Tae answer yer question, though, it would nae be me first choice tae marry a lass so young. I feel she’s still got some growin’ tae dae. But it seems necessary, as I said, tae forge this alliance.”
A tense silence settled over the table. Macfie glowered at his wife darkly and Maddox worried she had really stepped in it by speaking her mind and would pay the price for it. He set his cup of wine down and leaned forward, then glanced at Cecilia. There was a frown on her lips and her gaze was fixed to her hands, which rested in her lap. He could sense her tension. Her fear. She was willing to do her duty by her family but Maddox could see, plain as the nose on his face, that this was not her preferred path to walk.
“What I will say is that if we are tae be married, I can promise tae treat Cecilia well,” he said. “And I wouldnae ever force her tae dae anythin’ she was nae willin’ tae dae.”
He could sense the disapproval radiating from Macfie, as hot as the heat from the sun. The man believed that women were property. They were to be used as their husbands wished. They were commodities to be bartered and sold for personal gain. They were to be seen and not heard. Macfie’s attitude toward the women in his life disgusted Maddox. It was not his way, but he reminded himself he was not there to judge. It was not his place. He was there to solidify an alliance that would benefit his people and secure their future.
“Sacrifice,” he muttered to himself.
“What was that, Laird MacLachlan?” Macfie asked.
