Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Ye still look much too serious for bein’ at a celebration,” Lachlan said, the liquor seeming to make him glow. He sidled up to Cameron, two crystal mugs with several inches of whisky in each. “Ye’re cross with me for pullin’ ye off the dance floor.”
“Nay, I’m nae cross with ye,” Cameron said, accepting the cup when his cousin offered it. “Ye ken I am nae the kind of man that enjoys ceilidhs.”
“That was why I invited ye here,” Lachlan said, gesturing at the small selection of men gathered in the Solar. “But now that we are here, I’m realizin’ that I’ve never seen ye look happier than when ye were dancin’ with Margo.”
Cameron just grunted, taking a long drink from his cup. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss his feelings, certainly not in a room full of his allies. For a brief moment, he met his cousin’s eyes. Then, slowly, Cameron dragged his gaze over the gathering.
It was enough to dismiss Lachlan, sending him on his way to continue socializing. The evening was winding down, the conversations becoming quieter. There was much less mingling now. Out of politeness, Cameron would stay for another quarter of an hour.
The temptation of the door connecting their rooms was so strong that it was calling to him even now. He wanted to test the handle, find out whether she had locked him out or had made up her mind to welcome him in. It felt as if nothing he did could combat the restlessness.
Putting his glass on a low table, Cameron positioned himself halfway to the door.
Tucked against the wall, he observed the juxtaposition of the raucous laughter and hushed strategy discussions.
Even if he did not wish to be here, he could not deny that the gathering had been positive not only for morale, but for the alliances he had fought so hard to forge.
I suppose I owe Marian genuine thanks.
Before he could get lost in his thoughts, a servant approached him. He was a young boy, seemingly not quite sure of himself in his current position. After Cameron nodded, indicating he was ready to hear the servant speak, the boy cleared his throat.
“A representative has arrived from England,” he said, the words making Cameron stand up straighter. The slight haze the alcohol had layered over his consciousness burned away like fog in the early morning sun. “He said he was carrying documents regarding your land.”
Margo’s mother’s inheritance? The land that is meant to be mine?
“I see,” Cameron said, his eyes narrowing.
He knew that Lachlan would never knowingly welcome Lord Abbott under his roof. Though Cameron had not shared the intimate details of their arrangement, he had not hidden the fact that Lord Abbot was conniving. That, coupled with the time of evening, sat wrong on his very spirit.
“He is waiting for you in the meeting room,” the servant said, seeming to sense Cameron’s suspicion.
“I will meet him,” Cameron said, already walking toward the door. His need to know who had come and for what reason overrode any trepidation he had. “Thank ye for informin’ me.”
If Lord Abbott has truly come from England, he must believe he has found a way to get out of our agreement.
His hands tightened at his sides as he easily navigated Castle Carrick. If it weren’t for how badly his clan needed the money, he would stop fighting Lord Abbott’s impossible stipulations. Margo was worth more than any amount of gold.
Unfortunately, that did nothing to fund repairs and feed his people when the storms decimated their crops.
When Cameron stepped into the room, he was not sure if he was disappointed or relieved that rather than Lord Abbott himself, a solicitor was standing by the fire. He turned his head slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. It was not until the door closed behind Cameron that he spoke.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Laird MacLeod.” He stepped away from the hearth, extending a hand to Cameron. “I am Nicolas. I was sent here by Lord Abbott to discuss some new documents that have come to light.”
Cameron stared at the man’s outstretched hand, waiting until his fingers twitched uncomfortably to shake it. He could not tell whether Nicolas was intimidated or naturally squirrely. It did not matter either way. Men like him were weak, hiding under a veneer of social politeness.
That is nae how the Highlands work.
“What is it that you’ve brought me, then?” Cameron said, practically crushing the man’s hand before letting go. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down the line of his nose at Nicolas.
The solicitor blinked once and took a deep breath as if to prepare himself.
Then, he said, “Since the agreement was made, additional properties and assets belonging to the late Lady Abbott have been discovered.” Walking over to the desk, he continued, “I have come with deeds, as well as a newly revised contract.”
Cameron extended his hand, deciding against speaking until he had deduced what Lord Abbott was after.
When Nicolas passed the stack of parchment, Cameron began reading through the convoluted language.
It was obvious that Lord Abbott was attempting to confuse him, even if he was not physically present.
“As you can see,” Nicolas said when the silence stretched between them for a beat too long, “a marriage with confirmation of a child is no longer sufficient. The requirements to receive Lady Margo’s dowry, along with her inheritance, have changed.”
“This is a large change,” Cameron said without looking away from the new contract. “Lord Abbott is attemptin’ to stipulate that the money and the land can only be released to a son that Margo bears.”
“If you refer to the deeds to the lands, you will see that this inheritance had been intended for Lady Margo’s first son from the moment her dowry was created,” Nicolas said, the information sounding rehearsed. “Lord Abbott is simply enforcing the contract he created with his late wife.”
“I may be inclined to believe it if there werenae a clause that left Lord Abbott in control of the lands until the child is married,” Cameron said, walking over to the table and spreading the documents over the surface.
“Ye cannae expect me to sign somethin’ like this so late in the evenin’ and without any witnesses. ”
Nicolas made a noise at the back of his throat, without attempting to join Cameron in front of the documents. Cameron was not sure if it was because he had read them enough to know them or because he was trying to avoid further discussion.
“I would like me Council to have the opportunity to read through this proposal,” Cameron said, preparing himself for an argument. “Any discussion regarding Margo’s inheritance and dowry will happen publicly. This is no longer between just the two of us.”
Nicolas shifted, finally coming to stand at Cameron’s side.
He looked through the window, looking as if he was having a debate Cameron could not hear.
Finally, after staring at the moon for a moment too long, Nicolas said, “I will inform Lord Abbott of your conditions, then. We will be in touch shortly.”
He gave a sharp nod of his head before beginning to grab the pages once more. Cameron’s hand darted out, his grip on Nicolas’s wrist tight enough to make his bone creak. “Ye will leave me with these documents. I ken ye arenae foolish enough to have only one copy of the deeds.”
“Of course, Laird MacLeod,” Nicolas said, his voice tight yet placating. “You should take some time to familiarize yourself with the new conditions. It will save everyone time when we meet again.”
“Aye,” Cameron growled, releasing the man after another beat. “I will arrange the meeting and write to Lord Abbott.”
“I will be sure to inform him when I return,” Nicolas said, wiping down the front of his coat as he straightened his shoulders once more. “He appreciates your cooperation in this matter.”
Cameron stood there, unmoving. He watched as Nicolas left the meeting room with the last bit of his dignity. The man’s departure was even stranger than his sudden appearance. Was this not a meeting of utmost importance? Why else would Lord Abbott send someone to Scotland?
I must find Margo. I daenae like any of this.
“I will be speaking with my husband about interrupting couples when they’re dancing,” Marian said, pushing a glass of wine into Margo’s hands.
The red liquid swirled around the crystal as Margo’s fingers wrapped around the stem.
She sipped the bitter liquid, enjoying the musicians’ slowing tempo.
Marian, Eleanor, and Anna all acted as if Lachlan taking Cameron away was the worst thing a person could have done.
Margo might have been disappointed when Lachlan pulled her husband away, but she was enjoying every other aspect of the evening.
It was difficult for anything to bring her mood down, even though dancing with Cameron had been the most memorable part of her night.
“I cannot fault the men for wanting to duck away,” Margo said as warmth spread from her chest through her limbs. “They tolerated the dancing and politeness long enough.”
“But he should have seen how much you were enjoying yourself and left you be,” Marian sighed, sinking into a chair dramatically. “I was surprised to see that Cameron truly knew how to dance.”
“I was as well,” Eleanor said, something wistful in her tone. “Now I hope even more that whoever I marry knows how to dance.”
“I would argue that your sister got incredibly lucky with her husband,” Anna said, sounding exhausted. “But perhaps you will be just as lucky.”
“You look dead on your feet,” Marian said when Anna punctuated her words with a yawn. She passed her mostly empty wine glass to Eleanor before standing once more. “I will walk you to your quarters since Hugh is with the men in the Solar.”
“You do not have to do all that,” Anna said, though she didn’t swat Marian away when the other woman grabbed onto her elbow. “I can find my way back on my own.”
“Of course you can,” Marian said. “But perhaps I’m feeling a bit tired as well.” She looked between Margo and Eleanor then. “I hope you will excuse us both.”
“I’m beginning to feel tired as well,” Eleanor said, looking at the wine as if she were waiting to get permission to taste it. “It has been a long night.”
“It has been long, but I have really enjoyed myself,” Margo said, giving Eleanor a single nod, signaling she could sample the liquid. When Margo met Marian’s eyes once more, she said, “You have been an excellent hostess tonight. Your rest is well earned.”
“Yours will be as well,” Marian said with a little twinkle in her eye. “Perhaps when you get back to Castle MacLeod, you can write me a letter and tell me everything you got up to after I went to bed.”
“Behave!” Margo said, her cheeks going a bit pink. Despite her protests, though, Margo knew that it was nice to have a friend she could talk to about sensitive matters.
“I will behave just as well as you do,” Marian said as her parting words.
She turned, dragging Anna along with her. The two women moved slowly through the thinning crowd, as if the excitement of the day now weighed heavily on their bones. Margo knew she should be just as tired, but her entire body was buzzing with the prospect of seeing Cameron once more.
His words on the dance floor still echoed in her mind. A shiver of anticipation ran up her spine at the prospect of stealing away into his room after retiring for the night. It was as if he had ignited a part of her she had not known was there.
“I do not like this,” Eleanor said, taking a second sip of the wine. “Why do all women seem to love this?”
“It tastes far better than whisky or ale,” Margo said, smiling softly as she sat down next to her sister. “But I will admit the wine here is quite dry. I prefer it when it’s on the sweeter side.”
“I don’t think I would like it even if it were sweeter,” Eleanor decided, passing the now-empty glass to a maid. “Perhaps I will not drink.”
“Your opinion may change,” Margo said warmly, noting the way Eleanor’s features were beginning to emerge from beneath the layers of youth.
“The first time I tasted father’s scotch, I thought everyone must be mad to sit around sipping it.
Now I can appreciate it and the way it warms you from the inside out.
” She reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind Eleanor’s ear.
“Though I must admit I still think it tastes a bit like liquid wood.”
Eleanor burst out laughing, her hand flying up to her mouth to muffle the sound.
A few heads turned toward them, curious about who still had the energy to express such glee.
Margo nearly laughed along with her sister, but she caught the eye of a rather serious-looking man approaching, and every bit of joy drained from the situation.
“Lady MacLeod,” the man said, likely a servant if she had to guess, though she had not seen him during her stay at Glen Carrick. “I have been sent to inform ye that Laird MacLeod has requested yer presence in the courtyard. He asks that ye come alone.”
Something in her mind twisted, a confusing flurry of emotions raining down on her all at once. The request was surprising, though she supposed that after their encounter earlier in the evening it should not come as a shock. It was welcome.
The servant… I just do not know what it is about him, but there’s something off.
The thought of keeping Cameron waiting was too strong a deterrent for her to question this man.
Her mind was off from the long day. She was so used to waiting for something terrible to happen that she was looking for reasons to be upset or flee.
Glen Carrick was enormous. Of course, she would not be able to memorize the faces of every servant in a short trip.
“Did Laird MacLeod send you with a message?” Margo asked when they stepped out of the Great Hall.
“Nay,” the man said, catching her eye over his shoulder. “He only said that he would like to see ye alone.”
Margo nodded, allowing excitement to bubble in her stomach once more.
She was certain she would have to be the person to show initiative; that Cameron would be too respectful of her space to call on her again so soon.
As the servant stepped aside, allowing her to exit alone, she did not bother to conceal her grin.
I’ve never experienced a night so lovely.