Page 61 of Bride of the Mad Laird
He nodded. “Aye. There’s more.”
“Then tell me,” she said, her patience snapping.
His broad chest heaved as he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
“The Council took the view that MacDougall was pursuing ye because it was his plan tae marry ye and seize the MacInnes lands.”
She narrowed her green eyes, looking at him with suspicion. “Aye. We’ve long kent this was so. ‘Twas nay secret. What of it?”
He continued with the same halting speech, causing goosebumps to appear on her skin in trepidation of what was to come.
“They saw that if he were tae wed ye and in doing so, take the MacInnes lands as his own, this would only tighten his hold on Western Scotland. He would become even more powerful. A threat tae all the clans in the west and the islands.”
“Aye, but...?” She puzzled. Why in all the saints, was he going over this again?
“So... it was decided that it would be in all our interests if ye were tae wed me...”
Her mind reeled, surely she had misheard. “Wed ye?”
“Aye, lass. It was decided that the best way to keep ye safe was fer ye... and meself... tae marry.”
She gritted her teeth as the truth slowly dawned. “And the MacKinnons would then have a rightful claim tae the lands belonging tae me Clan.”
As she said the words something rose inside her. An altogether strange mixture of sadness and loss right alongside fury and a righteous sense of indignation. It left her feeling as she’d been hollowed out, gutted like a fish.
“So I would nae be free? I would merely be exchanging me servitude from one master tae another. Tae be bound fer life tae a man who merely wishes ownership of me and me lands.”
Tòrr stepped forward, raising his arms as if to embrace her. “Nay lass. ‘Tis nay so...” he trailed off, leaving her convinced that she spoke the truth of the matter.
She thrust his hands away and lifted her head high. “I’ll nae be treated as a pawn in a game of politics and power. I will nay wed tae make yer clan wealthy at the expense of meself and me people and tae increase the MacKinnons’ power.”
Tòrr stood before her shaking his head, seemingly lost for words, and she felt hot tears brewing behind her eyes.
“Please leave me.” She would never permit him to see the pain she experienced at his words.
He seemed frozen to the spot.
“Go.” If he stood there another moment with that sad-eyed expression on his handsome features she would surely break. “Now.”
At last, he turned and made his way to the door. About to lift the latch he rounded on her. “I’m sorry that this decision has caused ye distress me lady.”
With that, he opened the door and was gone before she could berate him further.
She could never tell him that she’d come to care for him and that being bound to him by an edict of his Council could only ensure he turned away from her and found himself as desperate for freedom as she was.
They would be nothing more than two birds, caged to meet the needs of others, that would, in time, wish to tear each other apart.
She fastened her cloak of angry words about her, they were her protection against the growing feelings of tenderness toward Tòrr and the confusion of wanting his touches and kisses, that left her tossing and damp beneath her covers at night.
Finally, flinging herself on the plush pillows of her bed, she allowed the tears she’d been holding onto forever came pouring out. All the loneliness, the fear and the fanciful notions that she’d embraced after speaking with Eilidh about love and kindness had been dashed by Tòrr’s words.
And, to make it worse, he seemed to care little that they were to be married for no better reason than to please his Council. If only he’d been able to console her with even a small word to let her know he understood her despair. Instead, he stood there as stoic as the savage laird she’d glimpsed, a man with a heart of stone.
The tears turned into great heart-wrenching sobs that threatened self-pity and a loss of her wits altogether.
With her head on the tear-washed pillow she soothed herself to sleep. She wouldescape. And neither the Laird Alexander MacDougall, or the Laird Tòrr MacKinnon would stop her.
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