Stealing a Kilted Heart (Temptation in Tartan #8)

Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

L ord, how did I ever think this was a good idea?

In his study, sitting in his plush armchair behind his desk, Knox stared at the men of his council blankly as they threw suggestion after suggestion at him, never once giving him a single moment to give his input.

He swirled the one of two cups of wine he was allowed a day as he recovered, his head pounding with a headache that had begun the moment his council had mentioned that after the events of the battle, where he had been so terribly injured, he needed to take a wife and produce an heir or two—anything for the clan, they said. It had already been too long, they said. He should already have a wife and a child, if not two, and yet there he was, delaying the inevitable for no good reason.

He had been the one to call the council to his study, thinking it necessary to speak with them after the attack and make sure they had a plan in case they were attacked again soon. At first, they had gone over all their strategies and everything they needed to do to strengthen themselves and the keep, but once that conversation was over, the council had been quick to suggest a marriage.

Knox had half a mind to pretend that he was still unwell. It wouldn’t be entirely false, since it had only been less than a week since the battle and he was still tired and sore, even if he could now walk on his own and, if necessary, even move his arm. He had a suspicion, though, that someone in the council would call him out on his lie and so he remained silent as the men discussed the potential mates as though he wasn’t even there.

He exchanged a quick glance with Magnus, who was standing by his side, watching the council with narrowed eyes. This entire time, he had said nothing on the matter, but Knox didn’t expect him to. He knew the elders appreciated his opinion on matters regarding the army, but when it came to things like this, where they knew he would take Knox’s side, they rarely ever asked him.

“Perhaps Miss MacLean would be a good option,” said one of the council members. “It is said she is a bonnie lass.”

“It is said she is also sixteen years o’ age,” Knox pointed out, speaking up for the first time. Though it was not unheard of, he didn’t want a wife many years his junior. He hardly found it appropriate.

Then again, he didn’t want any wife other than Fia.

“Very well,” said the man. “Miss Campbell, then. She’s a few years older than Miss MacLean.”

“Och aye, Miss Campbell would be a fine match fer ye, me laird,” said another council member. “But she has many suitors. If we are serious about this, we should send a proposal right the now.”

Knox raised his hand with a sigh, bringing the conversation to a halt. The silence that followed was so pleasant that he took a few moments to break it, enjoying it while it could last.

“I’m nae feelin’ well,” he said. “Let us reconvene once I rest. I need some time tae think about yer proposals. Magnus will call ye once I have made me decision.”

The council didn’t seem particularly happy at being dismissed like that, without even making the choice of sending a few proposals to eligible young ladies, but they were not about to argue with him when he claimed that he was not feeling well. After wishing him a swift recovery, the men shuffled out of the room, leaving Knox alone with Magnus.

It was only then that Knox allowed himself to appear energized again, sitting up a little straighter in his chair as he downed his drink. “I willnae wed any o’ them.”

With a roll of his eyes, Magnus took his seat across from him, steeling his fingers under his chin. “Why?” he asked. “Dae ye enjoy sleepin’ with every lass in the castle so much that ye cannae even think about yer duty?”

Those words were well-deserved, much to Knox’s chagrin. Magnus had good reason to think like this. After all, Knox had refused to marry this entire time because he did, in fact, enjoy the life of the bachelor too much to give it up.

He liked the fairer sex. He couldn’t deny it. He was weak around women and he liked nothing more than to have a new one in his bed every now and then.

All that had stopped, though, when he had met Fia. She had changed his entire world and now he couldn’t even look at another woman. None of them held any appeal for him.

Had it not been for Fia, he would have agreed to marry a noble girl, any that the council deemed right for him, at this point. He would have done the right thing, the thing that was best for the clan. He would have married a girl and given the council all the heirs they could want.

But with Fia there, the best choice was obvious to him, even if it wasn’t to anyone else. She was just as capable of giving the clan heirs as any noble-born girl. Save for her humble origins, the council should have no issue with her.

But her humble origins were precisely the problem.

“I’ll wed Fia,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. Magnus laughed, but when he realized Knox was being entirely serious, he sobered up and looked at him with wide eyes, as though the mere thought was horrifying.

“What dae ye mean?” he asked. “Ye cannae dae that.”

“An’ why is that?” Knox demanded. “She is the one I want. I should wed the lass I want.”

“Knox… ye’re the laird,” Magnus said, as though Knox could have somehow forgotten it. “Ye cannae simply wed who ye wish.”

“I disagree,” Knox said, shaking his head. “It doesnae matter tae me if she is a peasant. I’m in love with her, Magnus. Surely, ye out o’ everyone else can understand that. What if Effie had been a peasant? What if ye couldnae have wed her because o’ it?”

Magnus pressed his lips together in a thin line, unable to say anything to that. Knox knew Magnus adored his wife; nothing could have kept him away from her, not even an entire council.

“They’ll never allow it,” said Magnus after a long pause. “Ye ken that.”

“I have tae try.”

Knox was not a fool. He knew there was a very good chance that the council would be entirely against such a marriage and would never agree, but what other choice did he have other than trying to convince them this was the best way to move forward? They would get what they wanted and so would Knox. With some luck and plenty of determination, perhaps he could manage to convince them in the end.

“Fine,” said Magnus with a sigh, a hand coming up to brush through his hair. He, too, looked weary, exhausted by everything that had happened in the past week, and Knox wished he could tell him he could rest now. Nonetheless, they both knew none of this was over yet. It wouldn’t be over until they had truly defeated Laird Gordon once and for all. “Ye ken I’ll support ye. It doesnae matter what ye decide tae dae.”

Knox nodded gratefully at his friend, reaching over the desk to pat his arm. “Thank ye. Truly, Magnus. I ken there isnae much ye can dae on yer own, but anythin’ ye can tell them will help.”

As he spoke, Knox stood from his chair and Magnus was quick to approach him, eager to help, but Knox only shook his head.

“I’m alright,” he said. “I’ll go fer a ride.”

“A ride?” Magnus scoffed. “In yer state? Ye cannae be serious.”

“I am,” Knox insisted. “Truly, I’m fine. I’ll take it very easy an’ I’ll ask Fia tae come with me, so ye dinnae need tae fash. If anythin’ happens tae me, she’ll be there tae fix it.”

“I dinnae like the sound o’ it,” Magnus insisted, but the simple fact that he was not trying to help him stand anymore spoke louder than his words. “Please, dinnae stray far.”

“I willnae,” Knox promised. “Just tae the woods.”

Magnus still didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he said nothing as Knox left the room, his hand gently rubbing around the wound over his clothes. Now that it had started healing, it itched all day and night, often keeping him awake, and a ride was just what he needed to clear his head.

And it would be the perfect opportunity for him to finally confess his love to Fia.

On his way to the stables, Knox peeked through the door of the forge to see if Bane was there, and sure enough, he found him over a sword, tempering the steel over a burning fire. To that day, he thought it was a great shame that he insisted on working as a smith when he was so clearly suited to the life of a warrior, his strength surpassing that of many of his own men. Even his skills, a little rough as they were, seemed to be greater than those of many who called themselves soldiers. Knox could certainly think of one off the top of his head; Callum, who could not even begin to compare to someone like Bane, with his raw talent.

Then again, it may be an issue if he’s among the laddies all the time.

Perhaps that was why he was so adamant he didn’t want to join his ranks, Knox thought. Working as a blacksmith gave him the opportunity to isolate himself from others, to keep his secret safe. There were other smiths in the forge, of course, but Knox had the suspicion it would be much harder to keep his secret from the entire body of soldiers under his command as opposed to a small group of people.

And he had the suspicion that not everyone in his ranks would be as open to accepting him as Knox himself was.

Perhaps it’s fer the best if he remains here as a smith.

“Ye can come in if ye so please, me laird.”

Bane’s voice startled Knox. He hadn’t realized he had been spotted, since Bane hadn’t even turned around, but then he realized that Bane must have seen him on the reflection of the sword he was making. He was not only capable, but he was also clever—cunning even—and observant. Knox couldn’t help but mourn the loss of such skill.

“I didnae mean tae bother ye,” Knox said as he stepped into the forge, lingering by the door.

“It’s nae a bother,” Bane assured him. “Are ye well? I ken ye were wounded in the battle.”

Putting down the sword and the mallet he was using to temper the steel, he turned to face Knox, wiping his hands on the apron that hung from his neck. It didn’t help; the grime on his skin and under his nails seemed to be stuck there perpetually, something Knox had noticed the first time he had invited him and Fia to a formal dinner. There was no doubt in his mind that Bane had done his best to appear as well-groomed as possible, trying to fit in with the rest of the guests, and though he cleaned up well, that small detail always set him apart from everyone else.

Knox didn’t even know if it was something the man himself had noticed. For him, it must have been something to which he had never given much thought.

“I’m well, thank ye,” Knox said. “I’m recoverin’ just fine thanks tae Fia.”

“I’m glad tae hear that. Is there somethin’ ye need from me?” Bane asked. “I ken ye had a sword brought here tae be sharpened, I can dae it now if ye wish?—”

“Nay, nay,” Knox said, interrupting him with a shake of his hand. “That’s nae why I’m here. I merely wished tae thank ye.”

“Thank me, me laird?”

“Aye,” said Knox. “Fer savin’ me life. Had it nae been fer ye, I would be dead now.”

Knox could still remember the sharp chill of fear when he had seen that blade almost reach him. He still remembered thinking that was it for him, that he would not survive to see another day.

“Ye dinnae have tae thank me,” Bane said with a shake of his head. “I only did what anyone would have done.”

“Still, I wished tae tell ye I’m grateful,” Knox said. “Anyone may have done it, but ye were the one who was there. Ye were the one who did it. An’ fer that, I thank ye. An’ if there is anythin’ I can dae?—”

“I’m quite content, me laird,” Bane was quick to say. “However, fergive me… I dinnae mean tae be rude, but if there is one thing I can ask o’ ye, it’s only that ye dinnae hurt Fia.”

Knox was taken aback by the request, though he supposed it made perfect sense. It was only natural Bane would want to protect his sister, the one person he had left who was as close to him as family could be.

“I… I willnae,” he told him. “I mean, I have nae intention o’ ever hurtin Fia. I wouldnae?—”

“That’s all I need tae ken,” Bane said. “She’s already been through a lot. She doesnae deserve tae have her heart broken again.”

Knox nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. He knew what it was that Bane was trying to tell him— if ye’re only looking fer a good time, it’s best tae find it somewhere else. Knox took no offence in the warning. Bane had every right to be suspicious of him. After all, it wasn’t every day that a man of his station married a peasant.

But Knox was serious about it. Gone were the days when he would have a new woman in his bed every night. Fia had changed all that for him. She had changed his whole life, although he had no idea how she’d done it in such a short time.

“I promise ye right here, right this moment,” Knox said, as serious as when taking an oath, “I will never hurt her. I’ll give her the life she deserves.”