Page 13 of Bound to a Scot
“Adair,” he said. “What are ye doin’ here?”
“Came tae have yer back,” he replied, then dryly added, “And tae make sure ye didnae bollocks things up with Laird Macfie.”
“I didnae send fer ye,” Maddox said.
“And yet, here I am anyway.”
Maddox chucked to himself, then went about lighting the candles in the room, chasing away the shadows and allowing him to see his cousin and closest advisor. Several inches taller than Maddox, Adair was a beast of a man. Broad through the shoulder and chest, and with arms thicker than most men’s thighs, Adair looked like he could crush a man’s skull with his bare hand. His eyes, hair, and long, thick beard were as black as midnight and gave him a wild, imposing appearance that often set people running.
Big, strong and very skilled in combat, Adair was formidable. But his marital skill wasn’t what Maddox valued most about the man. It was his mind. It was something most people didn’t understand about him, unable to see past his physical traits. They underestimated him. But the man had a keen sense about people, a sharp, quick, tactical mind and an ability to cut through the noise and see the truth of things.
Adair was also not afraid to voice his opinions, no matter if they were in opposition to Maddox’s. He was also not afraid to tell Maddox if he was being a fool. It sometimes rankled him, but in truth, Maddox knew it was what he needed. He had seen too many simpering, whining, lickspittles advising other lairds and knew he needed a strong hand to help him guide his clan after the death of his father.
Adair perched on the chair at the small table in the corner of the room and picked up the cup of wine from a tray that had been brought in. Maddox walked over and sat in the other chair, letting Adair pour him a cup of wine as well. They silently toasted each other, then sat back and drank.
“I had the servin’ girl bring me some refreshments when they told me ye were havin’ supper with the laird and I wasnae allowed in,” Adair said.
Maddox grunted as he thought about everything that was said and done around the table. It had been a less than pleasant experience.
“So?” Adair asked. “How did it go with the laird?”
A grimace crossed his lips before her took another drink, fortifying himself. Once he was ready, he told Adair everything that had happened, everything that had been said. And as he spun his tale, his advisor’s face tightened. Adair shook his head and sighed as he drained his cup of wine then quickly poured another.
“I dinnae like the man,” Maddox said.
“Ye dinnae need tae like him. Ye just need tae seal the bleedin’ pact with him,” he said. “Our people need this, Maddox.”
“That’s the thing. He’s tryin’ tae marry me tae his daughter tae seal our bleedin’ pact. He’ll have it nay other way.”
“That’s the bleedin’ way things are done. Ye ken this.”
“Daesnae mean I like or agree with the practice.”
“Ye dinnae need tae. Ye wouldnae be the first man tae nae like the woman chosen fer them. But it makes both sides feel like they’ve got blood in the game. It binds those ties tight.”
“I ken that. I still dinnae like it.”
Adair took a swallow of wine and leaned back in his chair. He stared at Maddox silently for a moment, a mischievous smirk on his lips.
“Is she a beast?” he finally asked.
“What are ye talkin’ about?’
“Thae girl he wants ye tae marry. Is she a beast?”
He was taken aback by the question and stared at his advisor with an expression of confusion.
“Is me question that complicated?” Adair asked. “Dae I need tae spell it out fer ye?”
“Nay, she’s nae a beast. She’s quite comely.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The bleedin’ problem is she’s seen just fifteen summers.”And that I kissed her stepmother a few hours ago.
The first hint of a disapproving frown flickered across Adair’s lips. Like Maddox, he didn’t think much of taking a child bride and seemed just as appalled by it. But then his frown faded, replaced by an expression of steely determination that Maddox knew well. It usually meant Maddox was about to tell him something he wasn’t going to like.
“I understand yer hesitance. But most people think a lass who’s seen fifteen summers is a woman. She’s able tae breed at that age,” he said.
