Page 17 of The Highlander's Auctioned Bride
Everyone in the room was staring at them. Although there had been applause by obligation, no one in the room looked happywith his decision. Maisie’s heart was drumming in her chest, and the room grew warm.
MacLennan nodded at the councilmen, and then he turned to the other women at the tables. “Thank ye, ladies, for comin’ and participatin’. Please remain as long as ye wish and enjoy the rest of the feast.”
With a snap of his heels, he walked to the edge of the room to speak to Bram Wallace. In the background, Maisie could see Marcus Guthrie, a shadow in MacLennan’s wake, his eyes fixed on the laird with what looked like genuine contempt.
Maisie glanced across at Lillian. The poor girl looked devastated. Her aunt was subtly rubbing her back and it looked as though they both held back tears.
Why me?
“I’m so proud of ye,” her father said. She barely nodded in acknowledgment. “Maisie, can ye nae say somethin’?” he asked, peering at her with concern.
She turned to him, wiping away the tear running down her cheek. “I did nae think he would ever pick me, Da.”
“I ken that, my love, but it just shows what ye can achieve when ye apply yerself. This will mark a new future for us both. All our troubles are over!”
Her father sat back in his chair, looking elated. Maisie stared around her. Had she drifted into a nightmare? Could she wake up?
“Ye did it, Maisie!” her father said, laughing.
“I didnae have a choice,” she murmured softly.
Maisie hoped to go home and have some time to be herself before her life was over. It was a fool’s hope, however, for as soon as she rose from the table, a familiar figure walked up to her. She swallowed, glancing at Lillian, who gave her a faint smile.
“Congratulations, Miss Brown,” she said, “I wish ye both every happiness.” Her eyes were banked with unshed tears as her hands twisted in front of her.
“Thank ye,” Maisie said, about to say more when they were interrupted.
“Miss Guthrie?” Lillian turned as Bram Wallace approached, bowing to them both. “Might I speak with ye for a moment?” he asked, his eyes kind as he waited for her reply.
“Of…of course,” she said, glancing back at Maisie furtively and then dropping a quick curtsy before joining him.
Maisie watched them walk away as Bram put a conciliatory arm around Lillian’s shoulders.
“We have matters to arrange with the council.”
Maisie jumped at the deep voice behind her. She turned to see MacLennan watching her.
“Dowe?” she asked, the contempt in her voice obvious.
“Maisie,” her father said anxiously beside her.
MacLennan’s expression was unchanged, his easy manner from when they had been alone utterly removed, as though it had never been there. He stepped closer, his mountainous frame casting a stark shadow in the candlelight of the Great Hall.
“I dinnae care if ye hate me, but yewillbe wed to me.”’
She blinked at him. “Whydo ye want to wed me?”she asked helplessly. She heard the scrape of a chair and watched as her father left them, standing a respectful distance away. Maisie wanted to throw her chair at him.
“Should Inaehave picked ye?” MacLennan asked.
“What possible reason dae ye have? We are at each other’s throats every time we speak.”
He took another step toward her, just far enough away to be decent, but his eyes were looking at her as though there was nothing decent about his intentions at all.
“I always get what I want, Maisie,” he murmured, the sound of her name on his lips doing strange things to her insides. “And I am goin’ to have ye. I will endure whatever ye throw at me,” he said, “for I have made me choice.”
Maisie searched his eyes for the laird she had seen in the gardens, but he was an impenetrable wall.
“We must meet with the council,” he repeated.
