Chapter 8 #2
Charming, Megan thought, trying not to look too disapproving. Her goal might be to win Alaina’s trust, but it would do her no good to forget who held the real power. Ryder.
“I have messages, all good news,” Ewan promised, smiling at the two girls. They smiled tentatively back. Ewan raised his hand, showing that he had a large wax-sealed letter.
“I have a letter for ye,” he said, handing it over. “And a verbal message from the council.”
“The council? The MacCulloch council?” Megan asked.
Ryder nodded, sighing. “Aye. Too many despotic lairds in centuries gone by means that no laird can rule without his councilors, me included. Generally, they’re a millstone around me neck, but I see the logic in havin’ them.
I daenae, however, see the logic in countless pointless meetin’s. If they want to see me again, Ewan, I…”
“Nothin’ like that,” Ewan chuckled. “I might as well tell ye that news of yer betrothal has spread around the Keep like wildfire. Everybody who was anybody in the Keep knew by supper last night, and by dawn, everybody knew it, too. It’s bein’ whispered in the lands around the Keep now, too.”
“How wonderful,” Ryder muttered.
Ewan chuckled, giving a teasing smile. “Are ye nae happy? It’s yer betrothal, me Laird. When Flora agreed to wed me, I… I was mad with happiness. Ye remember. Ye were there.”
Ryder’s expression softened a little. He swallowed, glancing up. His eyes fell first on Megan’s.
Aye, that’s right, she thought, hoping that he read a warning in her eyes. We are betrothed. Act like it, man.
“I’m sorry, I am just preoccupied,” he murmured. “I am happy, of course I am. And the council wants to offer its congratulations, do they?”
“More than that. They want to organize a feast—a cèilidh, to properly celebrate. We’ll invite key members of other clans, which should strengthen our alliances as well as proclaim the good news. Several lairds have wondered for a while whether ye are goin’ to be wed or nae.”
Ryder pursed his lips, nodding. “I see—a fine idea, Ewan. Ye can tell the council to go ahead. A cèilidh would be a fine thing.”
“Can I go?” Sophie asked, perking up. “A proper cèilidh?”
“Aye, a proper cèilidh,” Ewan laughed, pinching her cheek. “With dancin’ and music and more food than ye could ever imagine.”
“I do like food,” Sophie murmured. “Will there be bannocks?”
Ewan leaned down to meet her eye. “Mountains of bannocks.”
Alaina cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter. “Am I permitted to come?”
Ryder shot her an annoyed glance. “Of course ye are, Alaina. Daenae act as though ye are bein’ persecuted.”
“What about Megan’s dress? Has she got a dress?” Sophie asked hastily, possibly to forestall a coming argument.
All heads turned her way. Megan shifted, clearing her throat.
“Well, I have this dress.”
Sophie frowned. “That dress? Ye will need a new one.”
Megan flushed. New dresses cost money. They cost fabric, time, and craftsmanship. Ma had always been very snippy about women who had too many dresses.
“I daenae need a new dress,” she answered, as firmly as she could.
“Nevertheless, ye will have one,” Ryder responded, breaking the wax seal of the letter. “Ye are betrothed to Laird MacCulloch. Ye are goin’ to be Lady MacCulloch. Ye must look the part, and ye must be convincin’. Because, believe me, folks will be lookin’.”
“Well, she doesnae need to convince anyone, does she?” Alaina pointed out, frowning.
“Ryder is right,” Megan said somewhat hastily. “I will need to look a certain way. Perhaps somethin’ simple, then.”
Ryder grunted, his attention fixed on the letter.
“Oh, it’s from yer uncle, lassies.”
“Who?” Megan asked, frowning. Ryder tossed the letter toward her, and she caught it neatly.
“Laird MacAdair,” Ryder explained. “Logan Arkley. His sister was the girls’ mother.”
“Nae yers?”
He shook his head. “Me faither married twice. Logan always felt that his sister was treated poorly by me faither, and perhaps he was right. But that’s in the past. Logan and I must work together to keep the girls safe. We have that in common, at least.”
Megan read quickly through the letter. It was brief and to the point, requesting an update on the health of both Alaina and Sophie, and asking if there had been any further attacks or attempted kidnappings. The tone was calm but not unfriendly, addressed affectionately and simply.
Megan did not know much about the various lairds of the Highlands, of course, and Laird MacAdair was just a name to her, much like Laird MacCulloch had been.
“It’s good to ken that Alaina has powerful friends besides her braither, at least,” Megan responded, handing back the letter.
“Aye, I agree. He’s been investigatin’ this kidnappin’ business just like I have, but he’s got nay leads. We agree that we are dealin’ with a serious, intelligent threat.”
This made sense. Megan glanced across the table to where Sophie and Alaina were talking animatedly to Ewan. Sophie’s nervousness and Alaina’s anger seemed to have faded away a little, which loosened the knot in Megan’s chest just a little.
They’re children. Alaina shouldnae have her freedom restricted at this important time of her life, and Sophie shouldnae have to deal with all this anger and fightin’. It’s nae fair!
Life, of course, was never fair. Drumming her fingers on the table, Megan glanced back at Ryder. He was already looking at her, his expression intent. She wished, not for the first time, that she knew what he was thinking.
“He talks about sendin’ Alaina to live with him,” Megan remarked. “He mentions his fortifications and the measures he can take. Do ye think she’d be safer there?”
“I daenae,” Ryder responded tartly. “And if Alaina thinks that she has no freedom here, she would feel as much at her uncle’s. He would be far stricter than I. Nay, I want to keep her here, under me eye. She’s me sister, and I can take care of her.”
He eyed her closely, as if expecting her to argue. Megan, however, only nodded.
“I understand,” she responded. “If it were me sister, I would want to keep her close.”
“Look at Megan and Ry, Ewan!” Sophie crowed, cutting into Megan’s thoughts. They both shifted apart, turning to look at each other. Sophie, Ewan, and Alaina were all staring at them, half-smiles on their faces.
“See how close they were, and how they looked at each other! That’s love, is it nae, Ewan?” Sophie chirped.
Megan felt color spread across her face. She wanted to deny it, of course, but that would hardly make her seem like the man’s betrothed.
Ryder gave a short cough and rose to his feet. “When ye have finished breakfast,” he announced tensely, “we’ll go and meet the dressmaker.”
He strode out without another word, never once looking back.
A man in love indeed, Megan thought, biting back a smile.