Chapter 7
“Idaenae understand anythin',” Leona said the moment they were out of earshot, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to control it. Her hands were shaking, so she clasped them together in front of her, squeezing until her knuckles turned white. “What just happened? Why did those men think we’re… Why did they…”
“It seems me daughter found a creative solution to her problem,” Murdock said, his tone carefully neutral.
He glanced back at Skye, who had wandered a few paces away to let Nyx explore a flowerbed. The cat was batting at a butterfly with lazy interest, and the little girl watched with rapt attention, giving them privacy. At least the child had that much sense.
“What problem?” Leona demanded, trying to make sense of the chaos that had just unfolded.
One moment, she’d been preparing to leave, steeling herself for the long journey ahead; the next, she’d been surrounded by grinning councilmen congratulating her on a wedding she knew nothing about.
“The one where she’s lonely and I’m too blind to do anythin' about it.”
The admission seemed to cost him something.
His jaw tightened, and he looked away, staring at some point beyond the garden wall. “She told me councilmen we’re to be wed. That ye’re stayin' here with yer brother. And the cat.”
Leona stared at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. Of all the things she’d expected him to say, that hadn’t even made the list.
Finally, she found her voice. “And ye didnae say it wasnae true?”
“Nay.”
“Why?” The question burst out of her, sharp with confusion and something that felt dangerously close to hurt. Her chest ached with it. “If ye didnae want me here, if ye told me to leave, why would ye let them believe—”
“Because they’ve been discussin' overthrowin' me,” Murdock interrupted. “Me council. Despite the people who support me, some think I’m nae legitimate enough because I havenae sired an heir. Me daughter is apparently nae sufficient to secure the succession.”
Leona’s eyes widened. She’d heard of clan politics being brutal, but this?
“They would remove ye for that?”
“Politics in the Highlands is brutal, lass.” Murdock’s expression was hard, carved from stone. “A laird without heirs is a laird whose power can be questioned, whose position can be challenged. If I take a wife, if I show I’m working to secure the line, they’ll back down. At least for a while.”
Understanding dawned on her like cold water. The pieces fell into place with sickening clarity. “So ye need me.”
“And ye need me,” Murdock pointed out, his voice taking on an edge. “Or did ye forget ye came here beggin' for protection?”
The words stung.
Leona flinched as if he’d struck her, heat flooding her cheeks. But she refused to back down, refused to drop her gaze from his. “I’m nae sure what answer ye expect from me, me Laird. Should I thank ye for using me troubles to solve yer own? Should I be grateful to be part of another scheme?”
Something flickered in his dark eyes. Irritation, perhaps. Or was it something else?
“What I expect,” Murdock said, closing the distance between them until they were nearly nose to nose, “is for ye to recognize a solution when it’s offered.”
Leona’s breath caught in her throat. He was so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, could smell leather and pine and something uniquely him. Her heart hammered against her ribs so hard she was certain he could hear it.
“We marry,” he continued, his voice dropping lower. “It solves both our problems. Ye get protection from Ragnall, I get me council off me back. Simple.”
Simple. He made it sound so simple, as if marriage was nothing more than a business transaction. As if she hadn’t spent her entire life dreaming of something more.
“Absolutely nae.” The words came out immediately. She took a step back, needing distance before his proximity scrambled her thoughts any further. Her chin lifted in defiance. “I’ll nae marry anyone, especially nae like this.”
Murdock moved forward, matching her retreat until they were close again. Too close. She could see the amber flecks in his dark eyes, could count the scars on his face that she’d tended in the dungeon. Her pulse fluttered wildly at her throat, and she knew he could see it.
“I daenae take rejection well, lassie,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.
“Well, I mean…” Leona faltered, struggling to maintain her anger when all she could think about was how broad his shoulders were, how his presence seemed to fill the space around her. “Ye just killed me betrothed. What makes ye think I’d marry ye?”
“Because I’m nothin' like that bastard, lass.” Murdock’s voice dropped even lower, more intense.
The sound of it did strange things to her insides, made her stomach flutter and her skin prickle with awareness.
“I would protect ye. And we’d lead separate lives.
This would be a marriage of convenience, nothing more. ”
And there it was.
“That is the problem, me Laird,” Leona said softly.
He frowned, confusion flashing across his face. “What?”
“I want to marry for love, me Laird.” The words came out softer now, almost pleading.
She hated how vulnerable they made her sound, but she couldn’t seem to stop them.
“I want what me parents had. Partnership, affection, someone who looks at me and sees more than just a means to an end. Is that so much to ask?”
“Love?” Murdock scoffed, and his expression hardened. “Love is a fairytale, lass. A story told to children. Real life is about survival, about makin' alliances that keep ye and yer kin safe. That’s all any of us can hope for.”
The words hit her like ice water.
Leona stared at him, seeing not the man who’d let her tend his wounds with gentle hands, but someone harsher.
“Then I pity ye,” she said, and she meant it. Genuine sadness welled up in her chest. “Because if that’s all ye think life offers, ye’re the poorest man I’ve ever met.”
Something flickered across his face, too quick to read. Had she hurt him?
Good. He deserved it.
Murdock was quiet for a moment, then seemed to regroup.
“Fine. Ye want nay part of marriage, I understand that. But consider this.” He paused, and when he spoke again, there was a calculating edge to his voice.
“We could pretend. A betrothal, nothing more. It would keep me council quiet for a year, give ye time to figure out how to reclaim yer clan. After that, we part ways.”
He let a sardonic smile curve his lips, and Leona’s traitorous body responded to it. Heat pooled low in her belly, unbidden and unwanted.
“I’ll be too heartbroken that ye left me,” he added, clearly mocking.
“Ye’re mockin' me,” Leona accused, moving closer now. Her own temper was rising to meet his, pushing her body’s reaction. “Ye think this is all a jest.”
“I daenae need to mock ye, lass. Ye’re doin' a fine job of makin' this difficult all on yer own.”
“Ye seemed nicer when ye were bleedin' in the dungeons,” Leona shot back.
“Ye seemed like less trouble when ye were beggin' me to take ye with me.”
They were breathing hard now, faces inches apart, neither willing to back down.
Leona could feel her pulse racing, could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Her hands had curled into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms. The air between them crackled with something electric, something that felt like anger but burned hotter.
Murdock’s gaze dropped to her mouth, and Leona felt it like a physical touch. Her lips tingled, parting slightly as she struggled to catch her breath. She watched his pupils dilate, saw the way his jaw clenched.
Was he feeling this, too? This maddening awareness that made her skin feel too tight, that made her want to either slap him or…
Or what?
Her tongue darted out to wet her suddenly dry lips, a nervous gesture. Murdock’s eyes tracked the movement, and something dark and heated flashed in their depths.
Leona’s stomach clenched, her body responding in ways she didn’t understand. Ways that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with the way he was looking at her.
Like he wanted to devour her.
The thought should have frightened her. Instead, it made liquid heat pool between her thighs, made her breath come faster. What was wrong with her?
“See, I told ye they are gettin' married. That’s why they are so close.”
The childish voice shattered the moment.
Both of them sprang apart, and Leona felt the loss of his proximity like a physical ache. She turned to find Skye standing a few feet away with Nyx in her arms, grinning at them.
Behind her, partially hidden by the garden wall, were three of the councilmen. Their expressions were knowing, amused, and definitely approving. Leona wanted to sink into the ground.
“We were leavin', me Laird,” Fraser said, though his knowing smile suggested he’d seen exactly what he hoped to see.
Two people who couldn’t keep their hands off each other, even when arguing.
“But we’ve informed yer man-at-arms about the upcomin' festival to celebrate yer union. He’ll coordinate with the village.
We thought a week hence would be sufficient for preparations. ”
“Festival?” Leona’s voice came out strangled, higher than she had intended. Her face burned with embarrassment.
“Aye, me Lady. It’s tradition when a laird takes a wife. The whole clan celebrates, renews their loyalty.” Fraser’s tone was respectful, but there was a question beneath it. A test. “Surely ye had the same at yer own clan?”
Leona forced herself to breathe, to think. She’d been trained for this, hadn’t she? Years of her father teaching her how to navigate clan politics, how to present a proper facade, no matter what chaos swirled beneath the surface.
She straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and smiled. “Of course. I’d be honored to meet the people of Clan Ainsley properly.”
“We’ll see ye then, me Lady, me Laird.”
The councilmen bowed and departed, their voices carrying back through the garden as they discussed wedding preparations with too much enthusiasm.
Skye remained, looking immensely pleased with herself. Nyx had climbed onto her shoulder, surveying the scene with those unsettling yellow eyes.
Murdock ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. The gesture made his tunic pull across his broad chest, and Leona’s eyes tracked the movement before she could stop herself.
What was it about this man that made her so… aware?
“We’ll discuss this further,” Murdock said finally, his voice rough. “But for now…” He paused, and Leona watched his throat work as he swallowed. “For now, I expect ye and yer brother to join me for dinner. Both of ye. We’ll need to set our story straight if we’re going to make this convincin'.”
Leona nodded slowly, her mind already racing ahead. Planning. Strategizing. Trying to figure out how she’d ended up in a fake betrothal with a man who made her pulse race and her thoughts scatter.
“As ye wish, me Laird.”