Chapter Twenty-Two
Keegan’s stomach knotted as they entered the dimly lit great hall of Gillenmor Castle, but he didn’t let his unease show.
He tried to focus on doing his job, his duty for Dirk and the clan, and not the fact that he was bringing the woman he loved to a place where he might have to leave her.
Nay, he would not. He was taking her out of here, one way or another.
“Well, ’tis about time,” a deep, rough voice called out.
A man, dressed in the Lowland or English style, stood from his elevated seat at the high table, stepped down and strode forward to greet them.
Keegan assumed he was Chief Ambrose Murray, Seona’s father.
He was stocky, with gray hair. His clean-shaven face was flushed, either from being too close to the fire or too much whisky.
With a narrow-eyed gaze, he inspected Seona first.
“A good eve to you, Father.” She curtsied, keeping her eyes downcast.
Keegan frowned, his instincts going on high alert for he sensed her fear.
“Seona,” Murray said, then lifted his gaze to scan over the faces of those who had come inside. Several of the guards and servants had remained outside, seeing to the horses and making sure the healer attended the injured men’s wounds.
“We brought Lady Seona and Lady Patience home in Chief MacKay’s stead,” Keegan said. “He was injured in a skirmish during our travels. And he sent you a gift.”
“Who are you?” Chief Murray asked in a stern voice, his brown eyes hostile.
“Keegan MacKay, m’laird.” He bowed. “Tanist and cousin of Chief MacKay. I’m honored to meet you.”
“Ah.” He shook Keegan’s hand briefly, then turned his attention to the other men. “And who else do I have the pleasure of meeting?”
“This is Dermott MacKenzie and his brother, Fraser.” Keegan motioned to them. “They are younger brothers of Chief MacKenzie.”
“I stayed here for a couple of nights last year,” Dermott said. “Good to see you again, m’laird.”
Murray shook both their hands. “Aye,” he said in a neutral tone.
Keegan motioned to Rebbie. “And this is Robert MacInnis, the Earl of Rebbinglen.”
Chief Murray’s bushy gray brows shot up and his demeanor switched, almost as if he were a different person.
“Earl of Rebbinglen?” He stepped forward and gave Rebbie a long, solemn handshake while studying him.
“’Tis my great pleasure and honor to meet you again, Laird Rebbinglen. I remember when you were a wee lad.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Chief Murray.”
“You have the look of your father. How is he?”
Rebbie grinned. “Still as ornery as ever.”
“Ha.” With what might be called a grin, Murray slapped Rebbie on the shoulder, then released his hand.
After scanning the rest of the MacKay party and apparently dismissing them, he motioned those he’d met forward. “’Tis time for supper. Please join us.”
Keegan frowned, watching the ladies and the others of their party proceed to the high table, then he followed. Something here was not right and Keegan didn’t like it.
“Rebbinglen,” Chief Murray said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Please join me.”
Keegan eyed the man, noticing he’d said nothing else to his daughter and had only nodded to his sister, Lady Patience.
What Keegan had heard all along was true then—above all, Chief Murray valued prestige.
Titles. Wealth. Keegan felt as if a blade had stabbed into his stomach.
His chances of gaining the man’s permission to marry Seona were going to be nonexistent…
unless Rebbie could soften him up and convince him otherwise.
Keegan was suddenly very glad Rebbie had accompanied them.
Keegan approached the high table, and when he saw the vacant seat beside Seona, he took it. He’d be daft not to seize any opportunity to be near her, though he was unsure how Chief Murray would feel about this.
∞∞∞
Seona couldn’t believe Keegan was sitting beside her.
With her father only a few seats away? Saints.
If he perceived that either of them paid much attention to the other, he’d fly into a rage, no matter who looked on.
Her stomach knotted and ached. She wouldn’t be able to eat a bite.
She wished she could take her leave of the table, go to her chamber and rest, but to do so would draw her father’s angry attention.
Thankfully, he was too busy entertaining Laird Rebbinglen to notice much else. Rebbie told him of the recent skirmish that had taken place just beyond Gillenmor.
Seona glanced around, not spotting her sister. She was likely still with Cousin Genevieve.
While the food was being served, Seona was able to relax marginally.
She had no appetite for the leek and pea soup.
Her attention was drawn to Keegan, beside her.
From the corner of her eye, she observed his big strong hands, his muscular arms beneath his doublet, and his plaid.
She found his manly scent most appealing.
“Are you not hungry, Lady Seona?” he asked in a conversational tone.
“Nay. Not overmuch.” She lifted her wooden spoon and forced herself to take a bite.
He removed two slices of bread from the large platter close to him and gave her one.
“I thank you.”
Once Keegan had finished his soup, he placed his hands on his thighs.
She knew she was mad, but she could scarce eat for thinking what his thighs might look like bare.
She’d seen his naked calves often enough beneath the bottom of his belted plaid.
They were muscular and lightly furred with golden hairs.
Likely his thighs were the same. She had not been able to see them well in the low light when he’d waded from the loch, but she remembered the hard feel of his thighs beneath her when he’d put her on the horse in front of him.
Mo creach! She had to think of something else, but how could she with him sitting so close?
Though she refused to look at him, she felt his attention on her. She prayed he wasn’t staring at her. Someone would surely notice.
Beneath the table, he moved his knee against hers and left it there.
She froze, unable to believe what he was doing. She glanced around, making sure no one was watching. They weren’t; their attention was on the roasted grouse being served. She released her held breath.
Though she loved sitting by Keegan, she didn’t know how much more tension she could handle.
∞∞∞
After the meal, when the music and singing was underway for the evening’s entertainment, Chief Murray rose from his chair and ambled toward Seona. Her heart vaulted into her throat. Had he seen Keegan staring at her?
“I would have a word with you in my meeting room,” her father said, motioning her impatiently toward the door.
“Aye, Father.” Her stomach felt queasy and she wished she hadn’t eaten a bite.
She proceeded into the smaller room, just off the great hall, which contained a table covered in papers, a desk, and all sorts of books.
The fire had burned down to embers but the room was still warm.
Too bad her father was not. Nay, the look in his dark eyes was cold.
He took a seat behind his imposing oak desk. “So, why is it that you return to me unmarried to the MacKay chief?”
Oh heavens. How was she supposed to respond to that without making Dirk out to be a villain?
“He did not wish to marry me.” ’Twas the only reason she could think of. And the truth.
“Why?” he demanded.
“I explained in the missive I sent—”
“I had an agreement and a written contract with his father, Griff MacKay! Why did they choose to break that oath?”
Seona drew in a deep breath, then released it, forcing herself to remain calm.
“As you ken, Chief Griff MacKay passed last fall. There was some dispute as to which of his three sons would be the new chief. We all thought Aiden was the eldest living son. He, in fact, became chief for about a month. Then Dirk MacKay returned. He is the eldest son, but everyone thought him dead for twelve years. Because he is more suited than Aiden to be a chief and ’twas proven he was indeed the eldest son of Chief Griff, the clan appointed him the new chief. ”
“And why did you not marry this Dirk MacKay? Why did he not honor the contract his father sighed five years ago?”
“He was already…” How should she say this? Already in love with Lady Isobel? Nay, that wasn’t good enough. Emotion held no sway for her father.
“Well, come on, lass. Spit it out! Already what?”
“Already betrothed to another lady,” she said. Her chest tightened with the lie. It was the only excuse she could think of at the moment. Dirk had not been betrothed to Isobel at that point, but he was in love with her. That was no doubt a stronger pull for him.
“Already betrothed?” her father thundered.
“Aye.”
“To who?”
“Lady Isobel MacKenzie.”
“You did not mention this in the missive.”
He had a point and she knew not how to counter it. “They married very soon after they arrived.”
That much was true. Though it was a few weeks.
“Anyway, Dirk MacKay knew naught of the contract before he arrived in Durness,” she added.
She’d had to tell the fib about Dirk and Isobel being betrothed; otherwise, her father might grow enraged with Chief MacKay and attack.
The last thing she wanted was clan war. She wanted Isobel, Dirk and all the MacKays to be safe.
They were like family to her… more so than her own clan.
Nor did she want her father to take his wrath out on Keegan, who was acting as Dirk’s representative.
But what if Aunt Patience told her father a different story?
Saints! Had she made a terrible mistake with that white lie?
It didn’t hurt anyone. In fact, it kept everyone safe.
Mayhap the warning she’d given her aunt about exposing her affair with MacMillan would still hold in this case as well. She needed to talk to her again.
“This whole story sounds far-fetched to me,” her father grumbled. “The MacKays know not how to keep their word.” He rose from his chair and moved toward the door. After yanking it open, he told his personal bodyguard, standing just outside the door, to fetch Lady Patience.
Mo creach! Seona would be in trouble if her aunt told a different story.
Aunt Patience entered and her father closed the door.
“Sister, explain the MacKay situation. It makes no sense to me,” her father said.
“I told Father how Dirk was already betrothed to Lady Isobel and this is why I couldn’t marry him,” Seona rushed to say, giving her aunt a meaningful look while her father’s back was turned.
Her aunt sent her a narrow-eyed glare.
“Let her explain it. I’ve already heard your side,” her father ordered.
“Aye,” Patience said hesitantly, her expression shifting from angry to pleasant. “I heard that some of the clan thought they were already married when they arrived in Durness. There were abundant rumors that they’d already been intimate and a bairn might result.”
“Damned barbarians,” her father said gruffly. His gaze shifted between Seona and her aunt for a long tense moment. “That will be all, Seona.”
She headed toward the door, then realized Patience hadn’t been dismissed. She let herself out, praying her aunt didn’t reveal anything that would anger her father. If he knew the truth of it, he would be enraged.
As Seona waited a few yards from the door for her aunt to emerge from the private conference with her father, she thought of her sister, glad she was still staying with Cousin Genevieve. At least she hoped she was, but she would love to see her. It had been many months.
When one of the kitchen servants passed nearby, Seona asked, “Is my sister still with my cousin?”
“Lady Seona.” The maid curtsied. “Nay, Lady Talia is in her bedchamber.”
What? Seona frowned. Why had she not joined them for supper?
“I thank you for telling me.” Seona rushed up the narrow spiral stair to the floor above and knocked at Talia’s chamber door. They were so close that normally they didn’t knock; they simply barged in. Impatient, she tried to open the door but it didn’t budge.
Why had her sister locked the door?
“Talia? Are you in there?” Seona tried to keep her voice low.
“Who is it?” The mumbled response sounded sleepy. Was her sister napping?
“’Tis Seona.”
“Seona?” Talia’s tone was more excited now. “You are home?”
“Aye. Unlock the door.”
“I cannot. Father locked me in here.”
An icy shock went through Seona. “Why?”
“I angered him,” she said in an uneven voice.
“Are you crying? What happened?” Heavens! How she wished she could get inside and see her sister. “Did Father hurt you?”
“Aye,” she said low, very close to the other side of the door. “He hit me and I fell.”
Seona clenched her teeth. Damn the man. Though she might be breaking a commandment and dishonoring her father, the man was the very devil.
She blew out a breath and tried to sound calm. “How badly are you hurt?”
“The maid said it looks worse than it is.”
Dear heavens, it had to be bad, then. “How does it look?”
“I have a bruise on my face,” Talia said.
“What else? Any cuts or broken bones?”
“Nay, but I have another bruise on my arm where it struck the bed frame.”
Saints! Seona wished she could lash out at her father in the same way, but he was strong and stocky. He had knocked her down before. When she was a wee lass, she remembered him treating her poor mother the same way. She had to get Talia away from him.
“What was he trying to make you do?” Seona asked.
“He wants me to marry Chief Comyn. He is an old man, Seona,” Talia sobbed.
Not only that, but the man was notorious for being ruthless and vile. What could she do to help her sister? She well knew fathers in the Highlands chose husbands for their daughters, but hers was determined to find the worst possible husbands for them to ensure their lives would be hell on earth.
“Since he received your missive months ago, he has been hunting a husband for you as well,” Talia said.
Dark dread slammed into Seona’s gut. “Who has he mentioned?”