Chapter Fifteen #3
Seona’s face burned, but she ignored it. Aye, she hoped Keegan did wish to bed her. ’Twas her fondest desire.
“Your father will find the man he wishes you to marry, and it won’t be Keegan.”
Clearly her aunt loved naught more than rubbing salt into her wound.
She was a woman too; how could she not understand Seona’s feelings?
If only Patience could visualize how much better Seona’s life would be if she could marry Keegan instead of some old barbarous ogre mayhap she wouldn’t be so harsh.
Her aunt was a widow, aye, but Seona knew naught about her marriage, for her husband had died when Seona was a small child. “What was your marriage like?”
Patience sent her a severe frown. “My marriage is none of your concern. That was fifteen years ago. We are talking about you.”
“I was merely curious,” Seona said in a benign tone. “Although your marriage was brief, I wondered if it was a pleasant experience.”
“Nay. ’Twas not. But I know not any woman who has had an enjoyable marriage. ’Tis a part of life. You must grow accustomed to it.”
There was something very wrong with that. People in her society married for money, property, alliances and prestige. Not for love. Never for love. But if love could enter into it, wouldn’t the marriages be more happy and enjoyable? Wouldn’t life be worth living?
Isobel had told her that her parents had loved one another, despite their arranged marriage.
And ’twas abundantly clear that Isobel and Dirk loved one another.
She often caught them whispering and giving each other affectionate smiles at dinner.
A few times at Dunnakeil, she’d accidentally seen them kissing passionately in a stairwell or an out of the way place.
“’Tis obvious Lady Isobel has a happy marriage,” Seona pointed out.
“Hmph.” Patience glowered. “The way that marriage came about was highly unusual and bordering on scandalous. Dirk stole her from the MacLeod.”
Seona shrugged. “Everyone is happy with the outcome. And the MacLeod did not seem to mind so much.”
“Well, it matters not. Don’t expect the same thing yourself. You should be angry that Isobel stole Dirk from you.”
Seona frowned. Was her aunt insane? “She didn’t steal Dirk from me. I was never betrothed to Dirk.”
“You were betrothed to the next MacKay chief, and who is that? Dirk.”
Seona shook her head. “I was betrothed to Aiden. He was chief for a brief time before Dirk arrived.”
“’Tis a tangled mess, and your father will not be happy about it. The MacKays broke the contract.”
Seona was glad, for she’d never wanted to marry Aiden or Dirk. And especially not Haldane. The way the dirty little knave used to stare at her all the time made her skin crawl. Nay, their cousin, Keegan was the only MacKay to catch her attention and steal her heart.
“If Keegan has taken your virginity, your father will kill him. You ken this is true,” Patience said. “I’m certain you remember what happened to the unsuitable young man you danced with last year—MacSween’s youngest brother. Your father had him beaten.”
“I remember.” And she’d felt horribly guilty for agreeing to the dance.
“What you may not know is that young MacSween met an unfortunate end not long after that,” her aunt said.
“What?” The sensation of ice cold water washed over Seona. “Someone killed him?”
“Aye. It happened in Inverness. He was stabbed and robbed.”
Waves of horror and disbelief crashing over her, Seona could scarce breathe. “Did Father order this done?” She forced the words out.
“No one would say for certain, but there was a rumor among the men that MacSween had kissed you and tried to force himself on you.”
Outrage burned through her. “That is not true! We danced and that was all.”
“Well, you know how men are; they like to boast. Once a story gets started, it becomes exaggerated.”
Seona paced, tears stinging her eyes. What in heaven’s name? Had her father really done this? She’d never known her aunt to lie. In truth, her father was violent and brutal, and more than capable of ordering someone killed.
“Keegan is tasked with taking us home, once I’m well enough to travel,” Patience said. “You ken your father has far more men than the MacKay guards who are traveling with us. He could easily have Keegan killed.”
The image of the bruised and battered MacSween man appeared in her mind and blended with Keegan’s handsome and precious face.
If her father killed Keegan, she would not want to live.
She loved Keegan more than life itself. She would gladly endure a lifetime of unhappiness and beatings if that meant Keegan lived a full life, too, even if he was far away from her.
She imagined what might happen—when Keegan saw he was being attacked, he would draw his sword. But he would be outnumbered by her father’s men, and they’d all have swords and dirks, too. He wouldn’t be able to fight them all.
They’d kill him.
Her throat closed up and tears flooded her eyes. She had to stop spending time with Keegan and make it clear to him any connection they’d shared was now over.