Page 36 of Bound to a Scot
“’Tis fine, me laird,” Maddox said. “We’re comfortable enough.”
“’Tis good.”
As he ate, Maddox surreptitiously studied the man, trying to figure out if he knew about him and Emmeline at the hot spring and was trying to lull him into a sense of security. Maddox had a pretty keen sense of people and was well-known for his ability to smell a trap long before it was sprung. But he didn’t get the sensethat he and Adair had walked into one. He was certain this was something else and let out a quiet sigh of relief.
They made pleasant conversation while he and Adair ate their fill. Once they had finished, a pair of serving girls took their plates and cleared away the table while another refilled their cups. Macfie waited until they were done with their tasks and had left the room before turning to Maddox.
“I think ‘tis time tae bring our negotiations tae their end,” Macfie finally said.
Maddox nodded. “Aye. I agree. And I’m glad tae hear ye say that.”
“As am I,” he said. “Are we agreed on the bride price?’
“We are agreed on that,” Maddox said. “I just want tae ask ye one more time tae reconsider havin’ tae seal our pact through marriage.”
He shook his head. “I willnae reconsider it. Ye takin’ me Cecilia as yer own is necessary. ‘Tis a tradition in me clan as I’m sure in yer own.”
What he said was true. Arranged marriages to solidify alliances were a tradition but not one his clan had held to so strictly through the years. It was why he’d hoped Macfie would yield to his request. Apparently, that was not to be.
Laith pursed his lips. “I understand yer concern is Cecilia’s age. Is that right?”
“Aye,” Maddox said. “She’s so young.”
“She’s seen fifteen years,” Macfie said. “She’s practically a woman.”
“Practically,” Maddox countered. “But nae yet a woman. Nae really.”
“She’s of prime child bearin’ years, Laird MacLachlan,” Laith said. “The money ye’ll receive as the bride’s price will secure the future of yer people, but havin’ Cecilia bear ye an heir will secure yer lairdship’s line since, as I understand it, yer first wife dinnae produce an heir for ye?”
The mention of his first wife filled Maddox’s heart with darkness and he frowned. The anger and resentment—two things he had yet to be able to banish whenever he thought of her— were all too familiar. Even had she lived, the child was not his, so he wouldn’t have had a legitimate heir anyway. As things stood now, his line was set to die with him. If he wanted to keep the MacLachlan line going, he was going to need to produce an heir. And although she was young, Maddox could not deny that Cecilia was entering her prime child rearing years.
“Dae I have it right, Laird MacLachlan? Ye dinnae have an heir?” Laith pressed.
“Nay. I dinnae have an heir at the moment.”
“Then Cecilia would be ideal tae serve ye in that capacity.”
Maddox knew Laith was correct. He spoke true when he said the bride price would bring security for his people while marriage to Cecilia would secure his line. And Maddox hated that the man was right.
Macfie sat forward, locking eyes with Maddox. “Cecilia is obedient. She will dae as ye say and nae make a fuss about it,” he said. “She’ll make a fine wife.”
“She’s a sweet lass and she’s smart. I dinnae doubt she would.”
“Aye. Sometimes too smart fer her own good. But once she leaves me castle, ‘tis nae me concern any longer. I wouldnae blame ye if ye tossed her intae a gulley eventually,” Macfie said and exchanged a laugh with Laith.
Maddox didn’t understand what the man found so humorous and glanced at Adair, who gave him a subtle half-shrug. Macfie’s laughter tapered off when he noticed Maddox not laughing along with him. He cleared his throat and grew serious.
“All I mean is that she sometimes asks questions she shouldnae be askin’. Ye’ve seen it yerself in this very keep,” he said. “A woman needs tae ken her place. That’ll be fer ye tae teach her. She’s still young enough that she can learn.”
“Well, as ye’ve said a number of times already, ye’ll run yer household the way ye see fit and I’ll run mine the way I dae.”
A wry smile curled Macfie’s lips. “Aye. Just so.”
Dread filled his heart and some small part of him still wanted to reject the match, but when he glanced at Adair, his advisor gave him a nod. In Adair’s face, he saw relief. Their people would be cared for and their future secured. Maddox knew he couldn’t reject it. Never in his life had he wished he was not the laird of the clan more than he did in that moment.
“All right,” he said, trying to keep the sound of doom out of his voice. “We agree then. Let us seal our pact and set a date fer the weddin’.”
Macfie clapped his hands together. “Excellent. I assume the sooner ye can wed the better?”
