Page 19 of Wed to the Highlander
From across the table, Isla Cameron lifted her goblet and tilted her head. Her eyes didn’t flicker when they met Maggie’s—they simply held.
“Surely, it’s yer duty to try the soup, lady. It’s said to be good for fertility,” Isla said, her tone smooth as cream but eyes cold as loch water.
Maggie blinked. The implication that was her sole duty, and the reason she was here, was sharp and unwelcome even if it was true. To the clan, she had one duty: bear the heir within a year.
Duncan stiffened beside her, shooting Isla a quelling look. “If it’s no’ to your tastes, there are plenty of other dishes,” he said plainly.
As the platters were passed down the table, Fiona, seated across from her, asked, “Lady Maggie, have you met my husband, Lachlan?”
She glanced at the man beside her and to Duncan’s left. Dark-haired, blue-eyed, angular features, much like his mother. Except for broad shoulders, he bore no resemblance to his older brother.
“To the lady of the castle,” Lachlan said with a smile, offering a toast of his own. “May she find the Highlands warmer than expected.”
“My brother’s a charmer,” Duncan murmured. “Mind the twinkle in his eye.”
“I’m learning to steel myself against roguish appeal,” Maggie replied, returning the toast all the same.
Lachlan leaned back in his chair. “Forgive me for being plain, Countess, but when we heard Duncan had secured such a fine, noble bride, we weren’t sure you’d come.”
“Why is that?” she asked evenly.
“Well,” he said with a glance at his brother, “some folk thought he might leave it too late. And by the terms left behind, time was short.”
A flicker of irritation passed across Duncan’s brow. “Like everyone else in this hall, she knows about the bequest, Lachlan. Think you I wouldn’t tell her?”
“Not all of it, though. How did this unusual provision come about?” Maggie asked. “Such stipulations could shake up the foundation of a clan, couldn’t they?”
Duncan reached for his glass but didn’t drink. “Angus MacPherson—my grandfather, two lairds before me—enjoyed intrigue.”
“He was an annoying jokester,” Agnes spat. “Unbecoming of a laird.”
There were murmurs, some in favor of the old laird, some disapproving.
“He left behind a sizeable private fortune,” Duncan explained. “Most didn’t know it existed.”
“Not even your father?” she asked.
“Especially not my father,” he said grimly. “The two of them were at odds for years. Angus kept the money quiet. In his will, he said he would pass it on to the next heir to High Glen, excluding our da, provided he met the conditions.”
“Marriage by the age of thirty and a child,” Maggie said slowly.
“Legitimate child,” Duncan clarified. “Since he was not.”
Her eyes widened.
“If not,” Lachlan added, “the inheritance passes to the next eligible kin. A married man with a bairn already, which would be me.”
Maggie glanced sharply toward him. “How…convenient.”
Lachlan smiled wider. “Isn’t it just?”
“I have no intention of failing the terms,” Duncan said, his gaze steady.
“Best you eat hearty, then,” Fiona interjected, passing the platter of meat.
Maggie looked between the brothers.
“So you stood to lose everything if you hadn’t married me,” she said softly.
