“Avaisprotective,” Emma said casually, a small smile at the corners of her mouth. “Ye couldnae handle her if ye tried.”
“I daenae want Ava.”
“Ye daenae say?”
He met her gaze. “I wantye, Emma.”
The word settled between them like a stone sinking in a river, and for a moment, the hall moved as if it was breathing under one chest. Emma did not look away or try to soften her expression.
Good. Perhaps this way, she would be able to have a rational conversation and actually hear him out this time. Let the truth land as it should.
“Ye have to understand. I wouldnae be making this request if I considered this—or ye—a game.”
She sighed into his shoulder before looking up at him. “I thought we both agreed in the woods that ye’d let me go. Ye do understand what the word means, do ye nae?”
“I thought the same,” he said. “But things have changed in the past month.”
“Changed how?”
He breathed once through the ache in his shoulder. “I daenae want to hurt ye if I can help it, but this is important.”
“Important enough for ye nae to leave me alone like ye have so far?”
“The thing is, lassie,” he murmured, “I cannae leave ye alone anymore.”
Her fingers tightened a fraction around his, and the candlelight put a soft edge on her anger. He felt weariness wash over him, the kind that came when a man admitted there was no other path he could walk. Perhaps he would manage to get through to her, after all.
“Ye only want me to boost yer ego,” she huffed.
“Nay,” he uttered. “At least nae anymore.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What do ye want then?”
“Peace,” he said, his tone almost forlorn. “And for certain people to leavemealone.”
They reached the edge of the floor and paused with others who wanted air. However, not once did he let go of her hand. The smell of wool and wax filled his nostrils as they settled by a railing, feeling the night breeze caress their faces.
“Me council demands that I marry,” he revealed once he was certain she was settled enough to keep listening to him. “They want a male heir and a lady to manage the keep. And unfortunately, me daughter’s safety rests on that.”
A smirk tugged at her lips. “So, this is nay longer about ego.”
“I told ye.”
“Aye. ‘Tis about duty, Laird MacLeod. I daenae think it makes it any better.”
“‘Tis about survival,” he corrected, his voice sharp. “I daenae want a real marriage, nor a courtship. I want only peace. If the people start doubtin’ me because I daenae have a lady, it could lead to problems I have nay time to deal with.”
She studied him, her eyes trailing up and down his figure.
Something about her scrutiny stirred something within him. Something he didn’t want to explore.
“And ye think I’m best suited to such a plan?” she asked.
“Ye’re clever enough to make it work.”
“That isnae praise.”
“Ye’re a smart woman, Emma. Ye ken an arrangement when ye see one,” he said. “And a smart woman is what I need.”
