Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
“Ye sure ye want to go through with this?” Sinead asked, her voice quiet but laden with concern. Kendra turned to meet her sister’s eyes, sensing the depth of the worry in her tone.
They stood close together in the waiting hall of McKie Castle.
The large hall was adorned with banners bearing McKie clan colors hanging from its rafters, and a great hearth crackled on the far wall, warming the stone room.
The imposing castle was a stark reminder of the expectations and responsibilities that came with being the lady of Clan Domnhall.
“Aye, Sinead, I’m sure,” Kendra replied firmly, although her heart fluttered with unease. “If I stay unmarried, I’ll lose the respect of the council and the clan. I have to do this for Domnhall.”
“But must it be the Laird of McKie? He’s cold, Kendra, cruel even. That’s what the gossips say about him.”
Kendra felt a sharp pang in her chest at her sister’s words, but she pushed it down. “I’ve heard the rumors,” she said with a sigh, “but according to Ivor, he’s never raised a hand to any woman.”
The sound of footsteps ended their conversation and signaled the start of her quest. She straightened her back and squared her shoulders as she readied herself to face the man who would change the course of her future.
“Laird McKie is ready for ye,” the approaching servant announced, bowing respectfully before leading them towards the meeting room.
Kendra nodded and followed him, her heart pounding in anticipation. Sinead's tension was palpable and infectious, and neither of them spoke as they walked down the stone corridor, their footsteps echoing in the quiet of McKie Castle.
When they entered the room, Kendra’s eyes immediately locked on Christopher McKie.
Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and solid with muscle, he looked every bit the laird his title suggested.
His hair and eyes were deep, dark black, and though his face was partially covered by a mask, she could still see the chiseled features beneath it.
Kendra's gaze lingered, and she couldn't help but muse inwardly. Even with the mask, he was handsomer than she'd expected; far more striking than any man she’d seen in a long time. She wondered why a man like him, with such a powerful presence, was still unmarried.
Was it the mask that scared the women off, or was there somethin’ else I daenae want to ken?
Christopher studied Kendra as she entered the room, and a surprising heat rushed through him.
She was stunning—her light blonde hair appeared silver in the soft light of the chamber.
Her eyes were bright blue, similar in color to the dawn sky, and her full lips were curved into a confident smile.
He felt a stir of lust as he took in her curvaceous figure, which only enhanced her overall beauty.
His gaze landed on her hips, and he wondered what it would be like to place his hands on them and guide her.
What would she feel like under me?
The intimate thought played in his mind until he felt the heat become unbearable and forced himself to snap out of it.
Ye’ve just met the woman.
She was undoubtedly a woman, yet she emanated an indisputable strength. As his eyes met hers, he felt an unexpected instant connection, that both unnerved and intrigued him. She was unlike any other woman he had encountered.
If she were to become me wife, ours would not be a simple union.
“Sit, Lady Domnhall,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the silence, gesturing towards the chair in front of the table.
Edward stood impassively beside him, silently watching their exchange. Kendra’s eyes briefly flicked to Edward, then returned to Christopher, and she sat down without hesitation.
"Ye are most welcome here at Castle McKie, but I must say I'm surprised by yer visit. Tis customary to announce such a visit before yer arrival," he said.
"Aye, Laird McKie, and I apologize for strayin’ from custom, but I came straight away as I have business to discuss with ye," she announced.
"Business? Trade perhaps?" he asked.
"Nay, I… ye see, I heard ye've been takin’ audience with various ladies in search of a bride. I've come to speak on that matter," she said.
"Ye have?" he asked.
He watched as she fidgeted and looked down at her hands. Noticing her sister beside her, he wondered if she meant to make a connection between the two of them, which made him very uneasy. He already knew he desired Lady Domnhall, not her sibling.
“Aye, I think we should marry each other,” she said.
Christopher felt a bolt of shock course through him at her words. He looked briefly at Edward, who merely grinned at his stunned expression, before returning his attention to Lady Domnhall.
“I dinnae expect this. Why do ye propose such a thing?” he asked.
"I also have a need to wed. I therefore came straight away to see if we can arrange a marriage of convenience and create an arrangement between us that would benefit both our clans," she said.
“If we are to move forward with this marriage of convenience, there will be some rules ye’ll have to follow.” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes piercing into hers. “Ye will have to obey them if we are to proceed.”
“Obedient wife, I assume?” she scoffed, her tone sassy. “Ye think ye’ll find one of those in me, Laird McKie?” She folded her arms, a small smirk playing on her lips, as if daring him to argue.
Christopher’s lips twitched into a faint smile, though there was no humor in his eyes.
“I’m nae lookin' for an obedient wife,” he said flatly.
“But there are conditions that must be met if ye want this marriage to work. First, ye must be able to look at me scars without flinchin’.
Second, do nae expect love from me as I will never fall in love.
And third, ye must give me an heir within four months. ”
Christopher watched as Kendra raised an eyebrow.
“Flinchin' at yer face?” She shook her head. “I doubt that'll be a problem, Laird McKie. I’ve faced far worse in me own time as lady of the clan. And as for love, I’m nae lookin' for it either.” She paused, then added with a hint of humor in her voice, “But that last condition? Ye’ll have to explain that a bit more.”
Christopher leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “The bairn,” he said, his tone serious. “If ye cannae be with bairn within four months, then this union is for naught. The clan willnae tolerate that. We need an heir.”
Kendra’s eyes flashed, but she didn’t seem frightened. “I cannae promise what ye ask so quickly,” she said firmly. “But I can assure ye that yer face or love willnae be an issue.”
"I’ll need proof first. Prove to me that yer words mean somethin'.” Christopher suddenly stood and removed his mask. He took no time to prepare her for it, revealing his deeply scarred face to her without warning.
Sinead gasped sharply, but Kendra didn’t flinch. Her gaze never wavered from Christopher’s face.
“If ye think this will repulse me, ye’re mistaken,” Kendra said calmly, as though she had expected nothing less. “I’ve dealt with far worse in me time as lady. Revolts, threats of war, men whofve had far less honor than ye. A scar on a man’s face does nae frighten me.”
Christopher smirked at her words, a brief glimmer of admiration flashing in his eyes, and leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving Kendra. Her response had clearly caught him off guard.
“Why do ye have a problem with the third condition, lass?” he asked with curiosity. He wasn’t expecting her to question the arrangement, but she seemed to be testing him, as though she had her own set of demands.
Kendra’s unwavering eyes locked with his as she spoke.
“I have me own three conditions,” she said firmly, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.
“First, ye must nae touch me for a year. Second, ye willnae interfere in how I run me clan. And third, me sister Sinead will be accompanyin’ me, whether ye like it or nae.
” She leaned forward slightly and narrowed her eyes at him.
Christopher’s brow furrowed at her conditions, but he did not appear angered by them. “One year?” he repeated, his voice thick with disbelief. “Ye daenae have to worry about me touchin' ye unnecessarily, lass. I’ve nay interest in that, but I need an heir.”
He paused, considering her second condition. “As for yer clan, ye can continue runnin’ it as ye see fit. I’ve more than enough on me plate with me own duties.”
“Then we have an understandin’ on that,” she announced in a steady voice. “As for me third condition, Sinead is me closest kin, and I willnae be without her. She’ll nae be left behind, nay matter what.” Her words held a quiet finality that made it clear she was unwilling to compromise.
Christopher’s fingers drummed lightly on the table as he reflected on her final stipulation.
“I’ll nae argue with that,” he said after a beat.
“Yer sister can accompany ye if that’s what ye wish.
I daenae care about that.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned forward again.
“But me council… they’re pressurin’ me. They want that heir, and they want it soon.
Within four months, if I’m to keep the peace. ”
“But four months isnae much time, Christopher. I willnae be treated like some broodmare that’s expected to produce a bairn on demand. We’ll find a way to make it work for both of us, but ye must understand, I’ve nay intention of bein’ hurried.”
Christopher gritted his teeth slightly, his patience noticeably tested. “I daenae want to rush ye, but the council—" Frustrated, he stopped and shook his head. “They’ll turn against me if I daenae meet their demands.” He leaned back into his chair, trying to regain his composure.
Kendra exhaled slowly. “I understand yer position,” she said, her tone a little less rigid. “And I’m nae so foolish that I’d dismiss the importance of an heir, but we must be practical. Ye cannae expect me to simply fall pregnant in four months.”
Christopher couldn’t help but feel a flicker of frustration as Kendra’s words hung in the air between them. She had valid concerns, and he knew she wasn’t going to bend easily. He looked at Sinead, who seemed to be guarding her sister, a protective measure he instantly respected.
"Then it seems we've an impasse," she said, her voice steady, challenging.
He felt a surge of irritation but quickly quelled it, realizing Kendra had as much right to voice her conditions as he did. He looked at Edward for guidance, who nodded encouragingly to continue their discussion.
Christopher stood up abruptly and began pacing the room.
His mind raced to find a solution, if only because he couldn’t shake the sense that the woman before him was different.
No other woman had ever sparked this kind of interest in him, certainly not as a potential bride.
The others were mere transactions, but Kendra…
Kendra intrigued him in ways he hadn’t expected, and his desire for her burned hotter than he cared to admit.
I want her and I shall have her.
As he paced, his eyes never left her, and he found himself wondering if she might just be the one to challenge him. The mixture of tension and desire, coupled with a strange need to prove himself, was a heady, intoxicating and unfamiliar feeling.
He paused, leaning against the table, and let out a long breath.
“Aye, lass, it seems we have ourselves a conundrum,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.
Finally, he spoke again, his voice steady but laced with an unspoken promise.
"After we’re wed, ye’ll spend four nights with me, alone, in me chambers. That’ll give ye time to reconsider and see things me way."
He walked slowly around her chair and stood behind her silently, his commanding presence looming over Kendra like a shadow.
Leaning close, his breath hot against her ear, he whispered with a lustful edge, "I promise, ye will be beggin’ for me by the end of the fourth night."