Page 11 of The Highlander's Auctioned Bride
She had never been in a place this imposing before, and she could see that her father was trying to hide how impressed he was with the room.
“Perhaps I should wed him simply for his castle,” Maisie stated sardonically, trying to lift the mood.
Her father glanced at her wearily but gave her a half smile. “If I had kent that would persuade ye, I would have brought ye inside earlier.”
She managed a laugh, but it was hollow at best. She did not want a castle. She wanted a small wood-paneled room, a quiet house, and a chess board to entertain her. That was all she had ever needed.
In front of the high table, several smaller tables had been placed strategically around the room. The other families and prospective brides were taking their seats.
Against her will, Maisie’s gaze flickered to James, who was walking over to his table. He had the air of a laird about him, that was certain. The other members of the council paled in comparison to his huge frame.
She settled into her seat, determined to do everything possible to ensure that she and her father would be going home tonight. Everything with his business could be resolved; she was sure of it, and they could work things out together as a family.
As the first course of venison and potatoes was brought out, Maisie watched the other girls. They sat demurely in their places, eating sparingly, and continually glancing at MacLennan.
He had not looked up from his table once and his disinterest in the proceedings only made her more determined to repel him. She watched him for a few minutes. It seemed to her that hisneutral expression was not real, somehow. As though the man in the gardens she had met was thereallaird, and this man was putting on a show for his people.
As the first course was cleared away, Marcus Guthrie finally stood up from the high table, and everyone fell silent.
“We bring ye all to this most excellent feast, as the guests of Laird James MacLennan,” he said, his voice echoing about the room. “Ye are most welcome. I shall now introduce the ladies here present.”
He opened a piece of parchment in his hands and began to read out the names one by one. Some were from far further afield than Maisie would ever have expected.
“Miss Lillian Guthrie,” Marcus called, and Lillian bowed to the smattering of applause that followed. Many on the high table raised their glasses to her; she was clearly well-known and well-liked.
“Miss Thomasina Brown and her father, Mr. Archie Brown,” Marcus announced.
“It’sMaisie,” she stated instantly, not quite realizing how quiet the hall had become. Her voice carried loudly through the silence. She felt her cheeks darken with a blush, and her father raised his eyes to the heavens in despair.
Marcus cleared his throat, bowing slightly to Maisie. “Me apologies, MissMaisieBrown.”
She did not miss the look of amusement on MacLennan’s face. Maisie only hoped that would make it easier to lose. Who wanted a bride with such a ridiculous name?
“Must ye deliberately embarrass me?” her father implored.
“Ye are the one who gave me the fool name, and ye are the one who dragged me here. Ye should have told them it was Maisie and this wouldnae have happened.”
He huffed as he took a sip of his wine and stared determinedly at the front of the room, his jaw clenched.
Maisie sighed. She had always hated her full name. It was one that her mother had chosen, and she had never liked it. To her, it just reminded her that her parent’s true wish had been to have a boy.
Her mother had had the name Thomas picked out for months before she was born. Although her father had pretended they had been most happy to meet her, she knew that in his heart he would have loved to have an heir.
If I were a ‘Thomas’ we wouldnae be in this situation,she thought miserably.I could have helped Da run the business and I wouldnae have let it get in this state.
She picked up the glass of wine in front of her as the rest of the names were read out. She tipped the glass to one side and then the other, aware that her father was observing her do it. She had never tried wine before, she took a tentative sip, feeling the thick taste pass down her throat. She frowned at it.
“Dinnae drink that,” her father said quietly.
“And why nae?.”
“Because yer tongue is loose enough without liquor,” he said sternly, hypocritically taking up his own glass and drinking almost half of it.
She rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, repressing the urge to fold her arms over her chest like a petulant child.
“And now,” Marcus continued, folding up the paper and looking round at them all with a smile. “We’re goin’ to ask ye ladies three questions. Answer as well as ye can and as truthfully as ye can, and the laird will deliberate on which he finds the most appealin’,” he concluded.
There was a great buzz of excitement from everyone about the room. Maisie wished she could slide under the table and never come out.
