Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Hugh was sour when he stepped into the meeting. His conversation with Callum left him feeling undermined. He was the Laird, and it was not for the people counseling him to disrespect his decisions.
If they would just work with me instead of pushin' back about everythin' I do, they'd be a lot happier with the arrangement.
Everyone's eyes were on him, an unsettling silence enveloping all of them. Hugh stood tall, not letting their oppressive energy bother him. They had called him here to chastise him, to make him feel like a child they needed to control. He would not allow them to pressure him with their harsh words.
"Well," Hugh said when it seemed no one else was going to take the lead, "let's get this meetin' started. What is it ye wanted?"
Aaron cleared his throat, gesturing at the seat Hugh's been avoiding taking. "I'll begin when ye sit and join us."
"Nay," Hugh replied. His compliance started and ended with attending this meeting. "Ye will start this meetin' now. Unlike ye, I have better things to do than sit around in this chamber all day long."
"Enough of that," Callum warned from his seat, leveling Hugh with a glare. Then, he turned his attention back to Aaron. "I suppose that Laird McDonald willnae be made to sit if he doesnae wish to. Proceed."
Hugh turned his icy gaze to Aaron. Even before the man spoke, Hugh knew that this would be an exercise in controlling his temper. From the terse words that he'd exchanged with Callum last week, he was aware of how upset these men were.
"We've been discussin' yer recent behavior," Aaron said without any inflection.
"Aye, yer private meetings are nay as private as ye seem to think they are," Hugh said.
He wouldn't directly call out Callum for informing him of the council's actions while he was away.
Even if the man was starting to grate on his last nerve, he was providing Hugh with a valuable service.
Hugh might not have been privy to everything discussed, but knowing his council was still working without him gave him leverage.
Aaron shifted in his seat, pulling his back straighter as he maintained eye contact with Hugh.
Steepling his hands in front of him, he said, "It's nae uncommon for meetings like that to take place.
The Laird doesnae have time to oversee every single meetin' that discusses minor clan arrangements.
Ye're to be informed about the findings periodically so ye can make informed decisions. "
"And yet I havenae been informed of any findings," Hugh countered, clenching and unclenching his fists. "I'm beginnin' to wonder if ye're really discussin' the clan or if ye center these gatherings around yer distaste for me."
Aaron's jaw worked; the other man clearly struggled to maintain his professionalism. It was a clear sign that, no matter the topic of conversation, Hugh still held the power. He still inspired fear in them, and he'd take that as a victory—even if it was only a small one.
"If ye'd let me speak," Aaron said slowly, a tense edge to his voice, "I'd tell ye what we discussed in our meetings. That's why we called ye here."
A grunt was the only thing Hugh offered to push the conversation along. His patience was wearing thin. The way they seemed to be drawing this out was inefficient. It was nothing more than a pathetic power play.
"We've been discussin' yer recent actions with yer wife," Aaron said, putting on that insufferable diplomatic tone he liked to use when he led these meetings.
"Nae only is it nae proper for a laird to choose his own wife, it's nae proper for a laird to abandon his position for any amount of time.
Ye ran off to be wed for nearly a month, and only a few days after, ye went into the village for a social call. "
"The visit was more than a social call," Hugh growled through his teeth. "There have been increased bandit sightings around the village. I dispersed a few men immediately upon arrival."
"And are those men prepared?" Callum cut in, ruthless. "They've been runnin' offensive drills since ye returned. Are they able to take a defensive stance against bandits targetin' our villagers?"
Hugh's lip curled with distaste. "That's where ye've gone wrong.
Our men daenae take a defensive position against bandits.
We go after them before they get the chance to harm one of our own.
We must send the message that we are nae targets and we willnae tolerate this kind of attack against our people. "
"And what if one of yer soldiers gets injured in a poorly thought-through maneuver?
When people are threatenin' ye, ye daenae run in without kennin' who ye're dealin' with," Callum said, cold and calculated.
"Ye havenae consulted us at all about yer strategy.
If ye had, ye'd ken the way things have been handled. "
"There's nae a thing wrong with makin' changes," Hugh spat. "It's nae yer job to agree with everythin' I do. Ye're me advisors, not the ones in charge of this castle."
Aaron cleared his throat pointedly. When he had Hugh's attention again, he continued.
"Perhaps if ye took even a bit of our advice, we wouldnae be havin' this discussion.
We're beginnin' to think that ye are only actin' for yer own gain without regard to the well-bein' of the people ye're meant to be protectin'. "
"That's nae true, and ye ken it," Hugh said, narrowing his eyes. "Ye're toein' the line of what's appropriate."
"Nay," Aaron replied calmly, his face devoid of any red coloring. "Ye're the one behavin' inappropriately. If ye're nay fit to lead, it falls in our hands to make the decision. And if yer wife continues to influence ye, we will vote on whether or nae she should be imprisoned."
"Why would ye imprison Anna?" Hugh demanded, his protective instincts flaring so hard he nearly forgot the first part of Aaron's statement.
"And ye cannae just make that decision. Do ye forget that I'm yer Laird?
" He made himself bigger, each of his muscles rippling with the fury he felt.
"It's best that ye watch yerselves. Daenae forget who me soldiers are loyal to. "
"Ye can threaten us all ye wish," Aaron said, his knuckles white where they rested on the table in front of him.
It was obvious to Hugh that he, and most of his council, were afraid.
The threat had weight, no matter how hard the men in front of him tried to pretend it didn't. "But this wouldnae be the first time a council has overturned their laird. "
"Ach, this is nonsense," Hugh said, at the end of his patience.
He threw a hand up in dismissal as he turned to leave.
"Yer threats daenae mean a thing to me. If ye're ready to have a real meetin', come and find me.
Despite what ye think of me, I am a busy man and me time could be spent better elsewhere.
And, if ye ever try somethin' like this again, I'll kill each and every one of ye. "
No one tried to stop him; all of them were stunned at his reaction. Even when he'd gotten onto them, he'd always given them a modicum of respect. His body language, his gestures, and his tone made it clear that he was no longer entertaining their threats.
He was nearly out of the hallway when he heard hurried footsteps approaching him from behind. He didn't bother to turn around, knowing that scuttling gait could belong to only one person. Whatever he had to say, Hugh wasn't hearing it.
"Get back to yer meetin', Callum," Hugh said as soon as the other man got close to him. "I'm sure ye need to figure out a new angle to get me to do what ye want."
"Ye need to take this more seriously, Hugh," Callum said, matching Hugh's long strides. "They're nae kiddin' ye. If they're unhappy with ye, they could move to have ye stripped of yer title."
"They cannae," Hugh said. "They've never done it before. I'm nae afraid of their empty threats."
"Ach, but a council has ousted a Laird before, Hugh," Callum said, grabbing onto Hugh's bicep and forcing him to stop walking. "It's been nearly seventy-five years, but it can be done."
"And why havenae I heard of this before now?" Hugh demands.
"Because tellin' villagers would frighten them and make them believe their leadership isnae as solid as it looks," Callum said grimly. "Yer image is important, Hugh. All Laird's images are. They daenae need to ken that a council can remove their leader."
"They would have to kill me first," Hugh snarled before jerking his arm out of Callum's hold and continuing on his way.
"That dress looks truly bonnie on ye," Emelia said, taking a careful step back, nearly crushed under the weight of the gowns she was holding on to. "And it looks so much warmer than the others that ye have."
Anna stared at herself in the mirror, smoothing her palms over the deep red fabric. Her green eyes seemed to glow brighter against the wine-colored dress. And it was almost as if she had a permanent healthy flush over her cheeks.
"It is much warmer," she confirmed, turning slightly to see how the material hugged her curves.
There was no hiding her weight, but the structure of the corset and the cut of this garment made it look almost desirable.
She'd disliked the way her reflection looked for most of her life.
Picking apart her appearance had become second nature.
Now, she looked healthy and full of life.
She almost didn't recognize the person staring back at her.
"I daenae ken why ye didnae have a dress of this color to begin with," Emelia chattered as she shifted to hang a few of the dresses on the privacy screen she'd set up in Anna's chambers. "If I didnae ken any better, I'd think the fabric were dyed specifically for ye."
"It's the kind of color that draws attention," Anna murmured slowly, her fingers dancing over the bodice of the gown.
"I suppose I was never confident enough to wear it back home.
Truthfully, I wouldn't have considered having this dress made if it weren't for the seamstress insisting on this fabric. "
"Well, I'll have to tell her what a good eye she has when I see her next," Emelia said decisively. She gestured to the dresses still hanging. "Now, which should we put ye in next? Perhaps this green one? It will make yer eyes look even brighter."
Anna chuckled, glancing at the thick forest-green wool gown that her maid was referencing.
"I thought so too. That's why I picked the color.
" She nodded, agreeing to the next phase of their fashion exhibition.
"And it reminds me of all the green here.
Even though it's the beginning of winter, there's still so much green. "
"Aye," Emelia said, stepping behind Anna to begin unlacing the red dress. "The Highlands are always teemin' with life. Is it nae like this in England?"
"No," Anna said softly, images of her home country coming back to her. "There are trees and flowers, of course, but there are far fewer of them. And the Highlands have a… wild quality that England doesn't have."
Emelia hummed thoughtfully as she freed Anna from the confines of her gown. "Do ye think ye'll miss it? England, I mean."
"Not particularly," Anna said, surprising herself with her honesty.
"Of course, I miss my father, but I think I would have even if I got married to an Englishman.
My friends and I already correspond with occasional letters, so it's not as if that's changed.
The scenery here is much better, though. And so are the people."
"I'm flattered to hear ye say that," Emelia said, slowly sliding the fabric off of Anna's body. "And I suppose I understand yer reasonin'. It's nae easy leavin' yer family. Mine's just in the village, but I still miss them."
"How long have you been working in the castle?" Anna asked, the compulsion to know more about her people driving her.
Emelia paused to think as she hung the red dress. She began grabbing the next gown as she said, "Nearly five years. I'm one of the newest on the staff. I'm still learnin' the things that happened before I joined the staff."
Anna was quiet for a beat, stepping into the forest-green warmth and letting Emelia begin the process of tying her into it. Hesitantly, she said, "Perhaps you could share what you learned with me. I've already spoken to you about it a bit, but… I'd like to know everything there is to know."
"Ach, me Lady," Emelia said with a sparkle in her eye. "Where should I begin?"