Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Rebbie shrugged. “In truth, I wasn’t the one guarding her. ’Twas Keegan MacKay who kept her safe during the entire journey. He is the best of men, highly honorable like his cousin, the chief. They were practically cut from the same cloth.”
Murray waved off his humility. Besides that, he didn’t want to hear any more about the detestable MacKays—men who couldn’t keep their word.
“’Haps you would like Keegan MacKay to join us,” Rebbie suggested. “He was the one Chief Dirk MacKay sent with a gift for you.”
“What gift?” Murray did remember a gift being mentioned earlier. So, this Dirk MacKay sought to mollify him for breaking the contract of his father.
“A fine stallion,” Rebbie said with enthusiasm.
“Aye? Very good.” If the earl thought the horse was fine, then indeed it must be. “I will look him over on the morrow. Please send Chief MacKay my thanks.”
Rebbie gave a sincere nod. “I will do that.”
“You were very generous to travel with the MacKays to bring my daughter home. I’m certain you have far more important things to do.”
Rebbie shrugged. “’Twas no trouble at all.”
“Are you related to the MacKays, then?” Murray had to figure out their connection.
“Chief Dirk MacKay has been a very good friend of mine for a decade. We attended university together and traveled on the continent.”
“Ah. I see. Well, the MacKay party was lucky to have you leading them in the absence of their chief. I’m certain they listened to your decisions. If not, they were daft.”
Rebbie gave an enigmatic grin. “Well… I thank you for your confidence in me but Keegan—”
“How could I not have? You’re an experienced soldier, an earl, and a future marquess.
” Murray near had heart palpitations at the thought that one day his daughter could be the wife of a marquess.
And his grandson, one day a marquess, too.
But first, he must convince Rebbinglen he needed Seona… or Talia… as his wife.
Murray gulped the last of his whisky. “One day soon, you will want fine sons—an heir—to follow in your exalted footsteps.”
Rebbie quirked a brow, his dark brown eyes taking on a displeased look.
“I have two beautiful, sweet daughters. You have met Seona and, on the morrow… or the day after, you will meet Talia. She is eighteen summers, and just as lovely as Seona. I am providing them both with generous dowries, including land… not that you have need of it, of course, but ’tis always good to have a few more acres. ”
Rebbie was already shaking his head and sitting back farther in his chair. “I thank you, Murray, but I’m not looking for a wife at present,” he said firmly.
Too firmly.
Damn. Murray shoved to his feet and paced, then poured more whisky into their empty glasses. How could he convince the stubborn earl? What did he want? What did he value most?
“Well, I can understand that. You are a young man who doesn’t want to be tied down, but it need not be that way.
” Murray forced himself to stop pacing and sit in the cushioned chair across from Rebbie.
“While I was married, ’twas almost like I wasn’t really.
I was five-and-twenty when I married Seona’s mother, but I still dallied with the lasses everywhere I found a willing one.
And there were plenty, let me tell you.” He grinned.
Rebbie frowned, his mouth a firm line. “You want your daughter’s husband, whoever he may be, to be unfaithful to her?”
Murray shrugged. “He will be whether I approve of it or not. Aye?” He laughed. “A wife is for providing heirs. For bed-sport, a man must look elsewhere. The buxom village lasses are far more entertaining betwixt the sheets.”
Looking morose, Rebbie stared down into his whisky. What was the man thinking? His dark eyes made reading him near impossible. He was no doubt a rogue like any other man his age, and the lasses probably chased after him, considering how handsome he was.
“Once you married her and took her to one of your estates, you would only need to see her once a year or so,” Murray said.
Setting his unfinished glass aside, Rebbie stood. “I hope you will forgive me, Murray, but I’m tired and would like to retire for the night.”
“Och. Of course.” Murray leapt to his feet. “Forgive me for keeping you up so late.” It wasn’t late but he must somehow appease the earl. “Although I’m certain our guest chamber is not up to your standards, ’tis our best one. I’ll have one of the bonny maids take you to it.” He winked.
Rebbie gave a tight grin. “I thank you for your generous hospitality.”
After instructing one of his guards to find Abigail and have her escort Rebbie to his chamber, Murray closed the door. He was a hellishly obstinate man. Murray had to figure out what the earl desired most. Rebbie had shown no interest in the money or land. Nay, he already had plenty of that.
He would have to listen carefully to what Rebbie said from now on.
By hook or by crook, he would discover a bit of leverage.
Horses, perhaps. Murray had plenty of them.
Or could he somehow trick or blackmail the earl into marrying either Seona or Talia?
Had he found Seona lacking somehow? Was that why he had no interest in her?
Talia might be a good choice, but he’d already promised her to the Comyn.
And she had to stay locked in her room until that ugly bruise healed.
How had he sired such fragile, weak daughters?
Both of them annoyed him to no end. He wanted them both married and settled with the men he chose so he wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore.
∞∞∞
Lying in one of the four small cots, Keegan was unable to sleep in the bedchamber that he shared with the MacKenzies, but across the room, the brothers were snoozing away.
Keegan could think of naught but Seona. What would he say to her father on the morrow? How would he convince the harsh and unyielding man of his worth? It seemed hopeless.
But he could not fail in this. If he did, how would he face his future without her? She had come to be his life.
A light tap sounded at the door, startling Keegan. He sat up. Before he could get out of bed, the door opened and Rebbie entered, carrying a candle.
“Keegan. We must talk,” he whispered.
“Aye, have a seat.” Keegan sat on the edge of the bed while Rebbie took the wooden chair nearby and set the candle on the small table. The MacKenzies continued their light snoring.
“I talked to Murray at length,” Rebbie said.
A sinking feeling punched into Keegan’s gut. “Aye. And?”
“He’s trying to convince me to marry Seona or his other daughter. He’s the most status-hungry man I have ever encountered.”
“’Slud.” Of course. Why had Keegan not realized earlier that her father would be drooling over an earl who was still a bachelor?
“He does not care one whit what kind of man Seona marries, so long as he has a title, land, and money. Nor does he care how her husband would treat her. He would even encourage the man to be unfaithful.”
“Damn him.” Keegan wanted to knock the daft old whoreson on his arse. How could he care so little for his own flesh and blood? “’Tis as I suspected. He’s a horse’s arse and a bastard. And he cares naught for Seona. Still… tomorrow I will ask him for her hand.”