Chapter 6 #2
“Yer weddin' to the bonnie lady, Da!” Skye piped up, appearing at his elbow with Nyx draped over her shoulder like a furry stole. “I already told them that she’s stayin' here with her brother. And the kitty.”
She blinked up at him with those wide brown eyes, the picture of innocence. But Murdock caught the slightest glimmer of calculation in them, a look he recognized because he’d seen it in his mirror often enough.
His daughter, it seemed, had inherited more than just his stubbornness. She’d inherited his strategic mind as well.
He was doomed.
“Is it true, me Laird?” Fraser pressed, still gripping Murdock’s hand. “Are ye finally takin' a wife? It’s been too long since we’ve had a Lady at Ainsley. And the clan needs heirs, strong ones to secure the succession.”
The other councilmen were already launching into speeches about how it was high time he remarried, how the clan needed heirs, how Lady Leona seemed like a fine choice.
Strong bloodline. Good breeding. And the alliance with Clan Kerr, even a fractured one, could prove valuable in these uncertain times.
Murdock felt the world closing in. Every word was another stone in a trap he hadn’t seen being set. He glared at them, crossing his arms in a gesture they all knew well. The temperature in the garden seemed to drop ten degrees.
Immediately, the congratulations tapered off. They remembered their place, remembered who they were talking to. They stepped back with nervous coughs and mumbled apologies, their enthusiasm deflating like punctured wineskins.
“We meant nay offense, me Laird,” Fraser said quickly. “We’re simply… pleased. For ye. And for the clan.”
“Aye,” another added. “It’s good news. The best we’ve heard in years.”
But the damage was done. The lie was out there, spreading like wildfire through the castle.
Within hours, every servant, every guard, every person within these walls would know that their Laird was to wed Lady Leona Gilmore.
By afternoon, the village would hear. By tomorrow, neighboring clans would receive word.
There was no putting this back in the bottle.
Murdock’s gaze fell on Skye, who was studiously avoiding looking at him. One hand absently stroked Nyx’s back. The cat purred smugly, as if aware of the chaos it had helped create.
“Skye,” he said, his voice carrying a warning that made the councilmen scatter like leaves in a storm, though they didn’t leave, much to his disappointment. “We’ll speak about this. Soon.”
She nodded but didn’t meet his eyes, and something in his chest twisted painfully. She was lonely. So desperately lonely that she’d lie to his councilmen just to keep a cat, just to ensure she had some companionship beyond the father who was always busy with clan matters.
What did that say about him as a parent?
“Me Laird, if I may,” Fraser ventured, hovering at a safe distance. “When might we expect the formal announcement? The clan will want to celebrate. And there are preparations to make…”
“Later,” Murdock bit out. “I’ll inform ye when the time comes.”
The councilmen bowed and retreated, though Murdock could hear their excited whispers as they disappeared back toward the keep. Planning. Already planning a wedding that he hadn’t agreed to.
Movement at the castle entrance drew his attention. Leona had emerged, clearly intending to head toward the stables. Her brother was likely already there, preparing their horses for the departure Murdock had demanded. The departure that now seemed impossible.
She was dressed for travel again, her small pack slung over one shoulder.
Even from this distance, he could see the set of her jaw, the proud tilt of her chin that said she wouldn’t beg, wouldn’t plead for what he’d already denied her.
She’d leave with her head high and her dignity intact, no matter what it cost her.
The morning sun caught her hair, turning the black strands to silk threaded with light. Her cloak was fastened at her throat, but the wind caught it, pressing the fabric against her body in a way that made his mouth go dry.
She was so small, so delicate-looking. But Murdock had seen the steel in her spine, the courage it took to free a prisoner and flee her own home with nothing but a brother and a cat.
Beautiful and brave and completely off-limits.
Before she could take more than a few steps toward the stables, Skye spotted her. His daughter broke away from him, running full tilt across the garden with Nyx clutched in her arms.
“There ye are!” Skye cried, launching herself at Leona’s legs and wrapping her arms around them in an enthusiastic hug that nearly knocked the woman over.
Leona staggered slightly, surprise evident on her face. Her pack slipped from her shoulder, landing in the grass. But then she was smiling down at Skye, and Murdock’s breath caught in his chest.
That smile. Soft and genuine and full of warmth. One hand came up to gently ruffle Skye’s dark hair, and the gesture was so natural, so tender, that something in Murdock’s chest clenched painfully.
He’d seen his sisters with Skye, seen the way they loved her.
But there was something different about watching Leona with her.
Something that made his throat tighten and his hands curl into fists at his sides.
She looked at Skye the way someone looked at something precious, something worth protecting.
“Hey there, little one!” Leona greeted, her voice carrying across the garden. “Did the kitty let ye play with her, after all?”
“Just a little bit,” Skye said, beaming up at her. “But she’ll like me more now that ye’re stayin' here forever!”
Leona’s smile froze. Her eyes went wide, the color draining from her face. “I’m… what?”
She looked up, her gaze finding Murdock’s across the garden.
Even from a distance, he could see the confusion and hope and fear warring in her expression. Those green eyes, so expressive, searching his face for answers he didn’t know how to give.
The councilmen were already converging on her, reappearing out of nowhere like carrion birds. Offering their congratulations on her upcoming wedding, welcoming her to Clan Ainsley, and asking about her preferences for the ceremony.
Murdock watched as her face cycled through shock, disbelief, and then something close to panic.
But she recovered quickly. He had to give her credit for that. She thanked them with admirable composure, her breeding showing through despite the chaos swirling around her. But her eyes never left his. The question in them was clear, desperate: What is happening?
When the councilmen finally dispersed, still muttering excitedly among themselves about wedding preparations and feasts and all manner of things that made Murdock want to throttle his daughter, Leona approached him with careful steps.
As if afraid he’d bolt. Or perhaps afraid he’d send her away again, in front of everyone, humiliating her further.
Skye trailed behind her, Nyx cradled in her arms, completely oblivious to the tension crackling between the adults like lightning before a storm.
“I need a word with ye,” Leona said quietly, her voice steady despite the tremor he could see in her hands. Then, with a glance at Skye, she added, “Let’s go… bring the cat, me Laird.”