Chapter 19
NINETEEN
FUCKING LACHLAN
Callum
The walls of Castle Braithar resounded with the wail of bagpipes. In the hall festooned with clan banners, groups in full tartan regalia danced reels.
Fucking Lachlan.
I scanned the thick crowd, Mathilda’s hand gripped in mine. What was the man playing at? We wore tartan for weddings. Here, he’d thrown an ego party and had hung out his Scottishness to dry.
For show, all of it, but for whose benefit?
Ahead, on a raised dais, the man sat surrounded by well-wishers. A queue of guests waited to greet him, serving staff offering drinks from trays.
“That’s Lachlan,” Mathilda guessed.
I grumbled and eyed the end of the queue. “The man himself. On a stage. Christ on a bike.”
“He looks like you.”
As I stared over, taking in broad shoulders and a strong jaw not dissimilar to mine and, Heaven forbid, Da’s, his gaze lit on our party, then clung to me. A moment drew out before his wife elbowed him in the ribs, then the man thrust his chair back from the table and stood.
“Laird Callum McRae,” he yelled, his voice booming over the musicians. Faces snapped our way. “At last you’ve come to pay homage to your chief. Jump the queue, boy. I’ve words to share with ye.”
I’d been summoned.
Lachlan didn’t receive us at the high table, where we’d be like supplicants before his majesty’s court. Instead, my relative stomped down and gestured us to follow him to the top of the hall. The crowd shifted, all eyes on us as we followed.
“For fuck’s sake,” I hissed, spotting where he was taking us. I should’ve expected something like this.
“What?” Mathilda whispered. She squeezed my hand.
“He means to put me on display.”
Ahead, Lachlan reached a table and picked up a fist-sized ball of lead. A shot put. We’d come late—no way was I playing his Highland games—but the gleam in my relative’s eye suggested differently. We reached the table, and a buzz came over the crowd. The music ceased.
“Your da and I used to go head to head. Every year. Do ye think you’ve got the balls to try me?” Lachlan hefted the shot put, a friendly smile on his face.
I did not return the expression. “I came here to talk.”
“Ah, come on, Callum. Let’s see your arm. It’s only in fun, and half your kin are here.” He gestured to the room then eyed me. “Maybe impress your lady?”
One thing Lachlan and I had in common was stubbornness. A glaring contest commenced. I’d never been his favourite—that was Gordain’s claim—but I enjoyed his teachings and how he wore his pride.
At my other side, Alasdair yelled, “Do it, Cal. Show him who’s boss.” Then it became a free for all, the assembled partygoers joining in with catcalls and hoots. Many of my tenants were here. My kith and kin.
Fine. I had no choice but to indulge the man. I slid my jacket from my shoulders, handing it to the woman who I did actually want to impress, though by other means than heaving a bloody ball.
Lachlan beamed as I swung out a hand for the shot put, and the crowd cheered good-naturedly.
The game was on.
We took the match outside to the grass. Lachlan cleared a track leading to the river and took the first throw—a slow launch from his shoulder which landed with a thud under the yellow of a spotlight. He inspected his efforts. “Come on, lad. Best me if ye can.”
I took the spot and rolled my shoulders.
My mind should have been on the game. On whether I should let Lachlan win for the sake of buttering him up, but my attention had one owner.
On the path, Mathilda waited, poised in my peripheral vision, and I cast a quick look her way.
She’d sink into the soil in those heels so maybe she held back as she didn’t want them dirtied.
Later, behind closed doors, I’d have her keep them on.
The dress could go, and I’d have the most beautiful woman up against the wall.
Or bent over the bed frame, the heels placing her ass right where I wanted it.
With her cheeks reddening like she could read my thoughts, she drew her gaze up my body, resting on where my biceps strained my fitted shirt. I tested the weight of the ball, flexing more, and she blew out a breath.
She liked the view.
Oh fuck.
I’d spent much of the weekend trying to control being hard around her, but now I was on display, I had to stop my train of thought.
Down boy.
Tightening my muscles, I growled, using the energy and tossing the shot so far it flew past Lachlan’s mark. And kept on going. It hit the river with a splash, and I dragged in a breath made of lust and pure want.
That woman was going to be the death of me.
My brothers crowed the win, and Mathilda’s lips twitched in a smile. I stalked over and laid a kiss on her, not caring who watched.
“Well done,” she said.
Behind, Lachlan called his congratulations, genuine humour in his voice, but my gaze didn’t stray from Mathilda’s.
“You liked that?”
She nodded blissfully.
“Strange, the things that work for you, woman,” I said into her ear, and a shiver ran through her.
“I can’t even explain it.”
“Dinna try. I’ll just be stealing that shot put and taking it home with us.
Use it to impress you again.” I winked, kissed her cheek, and we were swept up in the evening again, with Lachlan leading us back into the castle.
His little exposure was over—though I’d won, he’d made his point and had me dance for him.
Now, he’d give me the true audience I needed.
In Lachlan’s office, the man sat behind his wide desk and steepled his hands in a benevolent pose. He cocked his head as he looked us over one at a time. Behind us, Wasp closed the door, the music, dancing, and undivided attention of the crowd muted.
“We appreciated the invite,” I said stiffly. Trying to keep my manners despite the games. “This is Mathilda Storm, my date.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Her smile was professional. “Happy birthday. We brought you a gift.”
Gordain handed over a bottle of well-aged whisky from Castle McRae’s cellars. Labelled with our logo—the castle and our family coat of arms on the other side.
“Aye, I’m glad to see you.” Lachlan accepted the bottle and gave Gordain a pat on the hand, then looked Mathilda over.
“It’s nice to make your acquaintance, but it’s even better to see this one attached.
” He pointed the bottle at me before he placed it on his desk.
“It’ll calm him down to have a woman. A couple of bairns’ time, he’ll be no trouble at all. ”
“Mind your assumptions,” I snapped.
“Alasdair, William, you’ve grown like weeds.” Lachlan ignored me and turned to the twins. “Fancy your chances in my rafting race? It’s the last event now your brother has shown me his arm. Do you have your sights on the prize?”
“Aye, we’ll win. There’s no competition. Castle McRae always wins.” Ally stepped forward, a swagger to his step.
Lachlan raised his eyebrows. “My stepgrandson is visiting. Brawny kid. I’d say you have a challenger. Braithar won’t be found slacking.”
I didn’t like the gleam in Ally’s eye. After the car-stealing stunt he’d pulled when I’d first met Mathilda, he needed no encouragement to be reckless.
Lachlan might enjoy messing with me, but my brothers were mine to manage. “Boys, ye said your greetings, now go on out and enjoy the party. You’re here for the fun of it, remember that. The race doesnae matter. I’ll see you out there.”
The twins snickered, exiting the office, leaving Mathilda and I exchanging a glance as Lachlan congratulated Gordain on his new career.
“Deep breath,” Mathilda mouthed, and I nodded, grateful.
Having to heed Lachlan—it was messing with my head. Being in control worked for me, but I was out of my comfort zone. My plan had been to stick to the facts and try to cut conversation short to avoid getting into an argument.
Right, I could do that.
After Lachlan came to an end of his praise to Gordain, I put my hands on my hips and exhaled hard. “Your guests will be missing you. You invited us here because you wanted to talk. I have a matter to discuss with you, so why don’t we get on with it.”
My chieftain tilted his head. “Aye? So talk, young Callum. What have you come to ask me?”
In brief statements, I outlined the wedding proposal. I gave a figure to Lachlan and ended with a blunt, “It’s the investment we need. A business partner to buy in. Will you consider it?”
Lachlan stood and took up the bottle of whisky we’d given him, moved to a bar then poured himself a neat shot in a crystal glass. “No,” he said.
Mathilda sucked in a breath.
I stared at the man. “No?”
“Are ye deaf, lad?”
My temper flared. “There’s nothing wrong with my hearing, but there’s something wrong with your memory. What about the debt you owed my da?”
“Whatever was between myself and Hamish is long in the past, and I’ll thank you to forget it.
” Lachlan glared. “You can’t get money from me, you can’t get it from a bank.
You’re a bad investment. Why are you trying to hold on to the place like every inch of heather is worth its weight in gold?
Take the agents’ offer and clear your debt, boy.
It would set you up. Mine was highly generous. ”
I knew he’d had an offer, too. But only for a small plot. A chill ran down the tattoo on my back. “What do you mean?”
“I’m accepting.” Lachlan threw back his whisky with a grimace. “The agents are outside enjoying the show.”
“Accepting what? What agents?” Gordain asked, echoing my thoughts. My brother had mostly been silent. Now, he leaned forward like Lachlan’s secret was of the utmost importance.
This couldn’t be good. I braced myself.
Our relative sighed and put his glass on his desk with a knock, though he stayed on his feet. “It’ll all be out soon enough, so you may as well know. Boys, I’ve decided to accept an offer on Braithar. I’m selling the place. Castle, land, title, and all.”
With that, our audience was over.
Back in the hall, I flagged down the nearest waiter and grabbed three glasses from the tray, handing one to Mathilda and one to Gordain. My brother looked ill.
The news had hit us both like a ton of bricks.
“Fuck,” Gordain swore. “He’s going to sell up. I thought I had time.”
The Champagne-piss nearly choked me as, across the room, I spotted the two businessmen—land agents—who’d tried their arm with me.
One raised a glass to me, and I turned my back to him.
“How can he? How could he give this up? How could he throw away the responsibility he has to the people who live here? Who rely on work and housing? To incomers who won’t give a shite?
” A century or two ago, the estate had been split into two, but it had always been owned by the McRae family.
Our clan. A division, but one that had never felt divisive.
It was why we’d never sorted the borders—there had been no need to.
“Do ye ken who made the offer?” Gordain bit out, his tone angry but his expression haunted.
“Aye, because they came knocking on our door. Acting for foreign investors.” The place would become a holiday estate. Gordain didn’t need to hear that now.
“You didnae mention it.”
“Why would I? Like we’d ever sell. I laughed them out of town.”
We both swore.
Mathilda watched wide-eyed. “And this person would become the chief of your clan?”
“No.” Gordain spat. “Lachlan is talking out of his backside. He can’t sell the title. That goes to Callum regardless. But the nerve of it.”
Owning Braithar had long been Gordain’s dream. Mine, too, for him. Two McRae brothers sharing the land. Side by side. No matter how impossible raising the money would be. I took hold of his shoulder. “It was always going to be tough—”
“Don’t.” Gordain swung back, and the set of his jaw told me how much he was hurting. I felt it to my bones. “Fuck him. We’ve done all we can. Let’s watch our lads win the race and forget about the rest. My plans never mattered anyway.”
“Aye, they do,” I said gently. My own strategy was in ruins, but at least I still had my home. For now, at least. He’d watch his dream get sold out from underneath him. We all would.
“I’m sorry,” Mathilda uttered.
“I am, too.” Gordain kissed Mathilda’s cheek, thumped my shoulder, then took off into the crowd.
A moment passed between Mathilda and me.
“I need to make a phone call.” She pressed my hand. “Can I find you in a minute?”
“I’ll find the twins and tell them to win this damn race. We’ll leave straight after. If you still want to?”
The room seemed to close in. My shirt grew tight at my neck, and I lifted my head for her response. To answer, Mathilda took my chin in her grip and kissed my lips like she owned me. Then she walked out of the hall, her shimmering dress filling my vision.