Page 6 of Saved By the Cruel Highlander
The women chuckled, and Holly sat back in her seat just as Alice approached with her meal. Her mind was racing with a bold idea. She quickly ate, then went home and packed a satchel.
When she was finished, she stood on the edge of her bed and regarded Ollie.
“We’re goin’ on a trip, Ollie. I think I’ve figured out a way to save meself from Felix.”
She petted the cat, letting her hand trail from his head to the tip of his fluffy tail.
“What’s that ye say?” She continued the one-sided conversation. “How will this trip help us? Well, the Beastly Laird is lookin’ for a wife, and I am in need of a husband—one who isnae plannin’ on murderin’ me. If I can convince the Laird to wed me, then Felix will have nay reason to kill me, since he willnae be able to get me inheritance anymore.”
She put her packed bag on the floor by the foot of the bed. “‘Tis too late now to travel. We’ll leave first thing in the mornin’.”
CHAPTER TWO
What a drab morning. Laird Elias McAllister was soaked to the bone, but it was worth it just to be able to get out of the castle for a bit and enjoy some fresh air. Riding was the only time he truly felt himself. It was just him and his stallion, galloping across the countryside, with the wind blowing through his hair, the cold air reddening his cheeks.
But he had to get back. There was a council meeting, and if he was late, the elders would have his arse.
Elias muttered a curse under his breath and headed back to McAllister Castle. Since he’d ridden out to the peninsula, he rode around the lake and up the winding road that led to his home.
A stable boy came out and took his horse’s reins, leading the stallion to the stables, where he would receive a rubdown and maybe an apple.
Elias entered the castle and climbed up the stairs. Two doors stood at the back of the first floor. He headed to the one on the right, which led to the council chambers. A large table sat in the middle of the chamber, and the five councilmen there turned to stare at him as he entered.
“I’m nae late,” he grumbled as he took his seat at the opposite end of the table from where Fergus, the elder in charge, sat.
“Aye, well, ‘tis best we get on with the meetin’,” Angus, the second eldest of the members, said.
Elias leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his broad chest. For the most part, he didn’t pay much attention to the conversation going on. It was usually the same thing—discussing the fields and crops, when they should start planting again, and so on.
As if to prove his point, Athol, the elder who oversaw the crops, said, “Are ye listenin’, Me Laird? I said we should clear a section of the far east corner to grow some wheat. What we have now barely covers the needs of the castle folk.”
Elias tugged on his short dark beard. “What do ye have to say, Brodie?”
Brodie was in charge of the castle books. He kept a close eye on the coffers and was the first to object to spending money needlessly. For him, just about everything was needless. Elias had never met a man more stingy with coin, and that was saying something for a Scot.
Brodie nodded slowly. “Aye. I hate to spend the coin, but I agree. We need a larger crop, especially in case of a harsh winter.”
Elias waved his hand impatiently. “Then do it.”
Brodie and Athol nodded, and the talk turned to just how much of the field should be used for the wheat, where they would get the seeds, and how they would get water to the field.
Elias’s mind wandered. He thought about a similar conversation that his father and mother had years ago. At that time, his mother had wanted to turn a section underneath their bedchamber window into a flower garden. His father had been against it, but his mother had insisted. She’d said the castle could use more beauty. In the end, his father gave in to her request.
Elias knew his parents were lucky. Most couples never developed that kind of deep love. He also knew he was not destined to follow in his parents’ footsteps. There was no woman who could see past the scar on his face and look inside to see the man he was. He wasn’t bitter about it, though. He was resigned.
“Where is yer mind, Me Laird?”
Elias blinked, shoving the thoughts to the back of his mind. Fergus was staring at him with a disapproving frown.
The old man was the head of the council and very protective of Elias and the clan. As he waited for Elias to respond, he tugged on his gray hair, which he always kept pulled back from his face.
“Me mind isnae here, old Fergus,” Elias said, absently wondering for the millionth time just how old the man was.
No one knew. Or if they did, they hadn’t revealed it.
“‘Tis obvious.” Fergus scowled reproachfully.
“What tedious question did I miss this time?” Elias asked.
