Chapter 5
Kenna had been surprised when Dougal announced the next morning that he intended to go back out.
“Ye have barely gone out in seven years, and suddenly ye are going out twice in a row?” she asked, setting down her needlework. “Where could ye possibly be going now?”
“To Castle Muir.”
“Again? Ye were just there last night.”
“Aye.”
She studied him carefully. “Dougal, what business could ye possibly have there so soon?”
“Business of me own, Maither, but ye will find out soon enough.”
“That tells me nothing.”
“It tells ye enough.” He reached for his cloak and fastened it at the shoulder. “As I said, ye will see soon enough what it’s about.”
Kenna’s frown deepened. “Ye’re being deliberately mysterious.”
“Aye, I am.”
Kenna huffed. “Dougal Grant, I am yer maither. I birthed ye. I think I’ve earned more than three words.”
“Ye’ve earned plenty, Maither. I enjoy keeping ye in suspense.”
“Ye enjoy nothing of the sort. “Ye enjoy being insufferable.”
He chuckled. “That as well.”
He glanced at his mother, who watched him with suspicion. Fortunately, she knew never to toy with the boundaries. She respected his position, something that was never in question.
“This has something to do with last night, does it nae? Whatever happened at that cèilidh?”
“Perhaps.”
“Perhaps,” she huffed, exasperated, though there was a note of amusement beneath it. “I daenae like the sound of that. Ye are doing little to quell me worries, Dougal.”
He nodded. “I’ll see ye soon, Maither.”
She waved him off, clearly disappointed with not knowing where he was going, but she wasn’t the type to push too much.
Dougal meant what he had said. She was going to find out once he got Skye’s brother to agree. Then he would tell her that Skye would be staying here for a month.
It would come as a shock to her; he did not doubt it.
He stood there for longer than he had intended, holding Skye’s gaze. She blushed even more furiously than she had had the other night. In the light of day, he could see it more readily. It was quite a sight, an intoxicating one he couldn’t look away from.
There were two other women there with her, and one of them was looking at him with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. The other eyed him as if she wanted to strike him from where she stood. He concluded that it was Freya, Skye’s elder sister. Skye must have told her the truth.
Soon, he was led to Kaden’s study, waving off the maid’s offer of tea just as he stepped inside.
Kaden looked up from his ledgers. He seemed to already suspect why Dougal was there. No point in making the man wait for him to say what he had to say then.
“I willnae take much of yer time,” Dougal began. “I’m here for yer sister.”
Kaden straightened in his chair, regarding him carefully. “I daenae believe Freya…”
Dougal thought of Freya, of the cold look in her eyes. Amusedly, he thought he might not have survived the encounter if she had her way. She wanted to protect her sister; that much was clear. He could not fault her for that one bit.
“It’s nae Freya. It’s Skye.”
Kaden’s expression changed instantly. His confusion turned into anger, his eyes narrowing at the mere mention that Dougal was there for his younger sister.
Dougal wasn’t surprised. He would’ve been concerned had Kaden reacted otherwise.
Kaden set down his quill slowly. “Absolutely nae. I willnae even entertain the idea. Best ye leave right now.”
The words landed hard, and Dougal felt his jaw tighten before he’d even decided to be angry.
A month. That was all he wanted. Skye as his betrothed, then they would both go their separate ways. Simple. Kaden saying no didn’t kill the want in him. It only sharpened it.
“Ye havenae heard the proposal yet,” he pointed out. “Should ye nae hear what I have to say first? It’s only proper.”
“I daenae care what is proper, nor do I need to hear a word ye have to say to me about this subject. Skye is too romantic, too sweet, for a marriage of convenience. She’d be eaten alive in a household like yers. I willnae allow her to leave with ye. Me decision is final.”
“Skye’s a grown woman who can make her own choices.” Dougal kept his voice level, though something in him bristled at being told what his betrothed, even a false one, could or couldn’t survive.
Skye would never be hurt under his roof, but Kaden was clinging to the reputation that had followed him since the fire. A reputation he had done little to shake off with his actions for the sake of keeping Elsie’s secret.
“And what exactly are ye offering her? A title? Protection? Or just yer reputation hanging over her like a storm cloud?” Kaden shot back. “Ye can offer her nothing. Ye will only drag her down with ye.”
He was pushing back more than expected, but Dougal was undeterred. He would not leave without Skye.
“I’m offering an alliance. Yer clan benefits as much as mine. Surely ye can see that through yer clouded vision.”
Kaden’s mouth twisted.
Ah, so Dougal had touched a nerve.
He wondered if it was Skye’s reputation Kaden was so concerned about or his desire to save face.
“Our clan does fine without?—”
A commotion sounded from beyond the door—quick footsteps, a muffled exclamation. Dougal opened the door, and Skye stumbled straight into his arms.
He caught her on instinct, steadying her against his chest, and for one absurd moment, neither of them moved. He remembered, with unwelcome clarity, exactly what she’d written about a man catching a lass just like this.
“Forgive me,” she breathed, pulling back, her cheeks scarlet. “But he’s right, Braither.” She turned to Kaden as though nothing had happened. “His clan is powerful. The alliance would serve us well.”
“Our clan is powerful too.”
“Which is precisely why it’ll work. It’s only a betrothal. I can break it off if he proves cruel.”
“Nae if ye’re dead,” Kaden said flatly.
Dougal’s hand moved to his sword hilt before he’d decided to let it. Skye’s fingers closed gently over his forearm, and the gesture alone settled something in him faster than words could have.
“Braither, I promise I’ll be fine,” she said. “And if I die, ye have me permission to kill him.”
Despite himself, Dougal felt his mouth twitch.
Kaden’s gaze dropped to Skye’s hand still resting on Dougal’s arm. She pulled it back at once, and Dougal felt an entirely unreasonable urge to drive his fist through something.
“If ye’re certain,” Kaden acquiesced.
“I am.”
“We’ll visit soon, then. Take some of the guards with ye.”
“Thank ye, Braither!” Skye’s relief was plain.
Dougal extended his hand, and Kaden shook it with the grip of a man conceding a battle he hadn’t wanted to lose.
“Now,” Dougal said, turning to Skye, “can I have a word with me betrothed?”