Chapter 2 #2
Christopher leaned in closer, his scowl never faltering as he locked eyes with Liam.
“Ye think ye can bully me into this?” he snarled.
“Ye’ll nae have that power over me. Now get out before I decide to make an example of ye.
” Liam’s eyes widened, and he quickly turned, scurrying out of the room with a hurried step, his nerves clearly frayed by the laird’s intensity.
Christopher glanced over at Edward, whose light, carefree laughter filled the room.
He leaned back in his chair, his arms folded, and an amused smirk played on his lips.
Always one to find humor in even the tensest of situations, Edward seemed entirely unaffected by the confrontation that had just unfolded.
“Aye, ye scared a few years off of Liam’s life with that one,” Edward chuckled, shaking his head.
Christopher let out a short, satisfied laugh, although his expression was still clouded by his lingering anger.
“He deserved it,” he muttered tersely, but a flicker of amusement glimmered in his eyes.
“The man thinks he can control me, but I’ll nae bow to his threats.
” He leaned forward, resting his palms on the table, his ire still simmering over the encounter.
Edward raised an eyebrow and chuckled softly.
“Aye, ye may nae bow to him, but ye cannae keep refusin’ every lass that comes yer way, either,” he said, his grin widening.
“Ye ken, I’ve met a lot of lasses, and nae one’s come close to meetin’ yer standards for a wife, Christopher.
” He tapped his fingers on the chair’s arm and looked at his friend questioningly.
Christopher let out a low growl, his brow furrowing as he sat down beside Edward.
“Half of them couldnae even look me in me face because of me scarrin’,” he said, his voice thick with frustration.
He ran a tense hand through his dark hair.
“They see me as a monster, nae a man, Edward.” He paused for a moment as a fleeting sadness crossed his face.
Edward shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze devoid of pity. “They’ll learn to adapt to ye and yer ways, Christopher. Ye’ve the heart of a lion, nae to mention the soul of a warrior.”
He gave his friend a teasing grin, nudging him with his elbow. “The right woman will see past the scarrin’ and ken ye for who ye truly are.”
Christopher’s expression hardened again as he straightened, his fists clenched.
“Aye, mayhap,” he muttered, looking out a nearby window with a deep sigh.
“But I’d marry any one of those lasses before I’d marry Eleana Boyd.
I’m bloody mad the council’s tryin’ to force me into this.
I’ll nae have her as me wife.” His expression became bitter as he recalled how mercilessly she’d teased him about his disfigurement when they were children.
Edward sat up a little straighter, his countenance becoming more serious. “Tis nae the council ye need to worry about,” he said contemplatively. “Tis her faither, Marcus Boyd. He’s a powerful man, and he’s got his mind set on ye.”
“Aye, I ken that,” Christopher grumbled disdainfully as he turned back to Edward. “But Eleana isnae the woman I want, and her faither’s ambitions have nay place in me life.”
Edward shifted slightly, as though he was reflecting on the situation.
“She’s a spoiled little princess, aye,” he said, his tone thick with distaste.
“Beautiful but utterly spoiled. And yet, here you are, with her still unmarried and available, thanks to Marcus groomin’ her for the role of Lady McKie.
” He shook his head, as though the situation baffled him as much as it did Christopher.
Christopher’s mind raced through his meager prospects, discarding each one in turn.
Edward’s voice broke through his ruminations.
“Ye ken, Christopher,” he said, his grin returning, “whatever choice ye make, I’ll be here, and I’ll see to it that yer back’s covered, nay matter who ye choose as yer bride.
But tis high time ye come to a decision.
The council willnae wait forever for an heir. ”
Christopher nodded, his eyes narrowing as he turned back to the window. “I’ll nae be rushed. But when the time comes, I’ll make me choice, and it willnae be Eleana Boyd.”
A sharp knock sounded on the door, easing the strain in the room. “Aye, come in,” Christopher called out, his mind still consumed by his conundrum. The door creaked open, and the servant stepped inside, her expression respectful but harried.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, me laird,” the servant said, bowing slightly. “There’s a lady here to meet with ye, sir.”
Christopher looked to Edward, "I thought Laird Albert was the last callin’ upon me today on this matter."
"Aye, ‘tis what Liam told me. I daenae ken if there's another," Edward shrugged.
Christopher straightened in his chair; his interest piqued despite his frustration. “A lady, ye say? Who is it?”
The servant hesitated for an instant before answering. “Tis the lady of Clan Domnhall, me laird. Mistress Kendra Ancrum. She is requestin’ an audience with ye."
"Show her in."