The gasps erupted before the scene could register properly, and two of the men sitting at the front pews shot to their feet.
“Me Laird, shall we—” one whispered.
“Leave her,” Jack ordered.
“Me Laird, she just ran out?—”
“And I saw that. Leave her.”
He didn’t wait for any of his men to finish speaking. Instead, he moved away from the altar and walked down the steps.
Laird MacFinn stood near the rail, his cheeks pale and his jaw set undeniably tight. Jack stopped before him, his face giving nothing away but disappointment.
“I thought we agreed on the most obedient one,” he said.
MacFinn’s mouth twisted. “She is obedient, MacLeod.”
“Is she now?” Jack asked, his voice raised but not harsh. Not yet. “Then that is the strangest form of obedience I have ever witnessed.”
“She has never done this before,” MacFinn said. “I swear it.”
Jack tilted his head. “Do I look like a fool?”
“Nae at all, MacLeod.”
“Then I assume I was speaking with sense when I said I only want the most obedient one.”
MacFinn swallowed. “Ye will have her obedience. Just give me a moment, and I will bring her back meself.”
“Just like ye did before she ran out?”
MacFinn ground his teeth. “I will drag her here by her hair if I have to.”
“So ye will bring her back weeping or pale with fear?” Jack scoffed. “I want neither.”
MacFinn drew closer by a step. “If ye will let me talk to her.”
“Nay need,” Jack said. “I will talk to her meself.”
“MacLeod—”
“Ifshe is to be me bride, what other way to get to ken each other than this? Do ye nae agree?”
MacFinn swallowed, his voice on the very edge of a breakdown. “Certainly, MacLeod.”
The priest’s voice carried from the altar. “Me Lairds, perhaps we can proceed with the other rites while the young lady is fetched?”
MacFinn shot him a glare. “Nay one fetches her but family. She isnae an escaped prisoner.”
“Nay one fetches her at all,” Jack added. “She ran because thirty eyes were on her. Put fifty more, and she will never stop.”
MacFinn’s jaw worked. “She is young and afraid. Marriage just seems daunting to her, that is all.”
“Aye,” Jack uttered. “Fear makes even the bravest of men bolt. But it is clear that there was more in her eyes than fear.”
“What then?” MacFinn asked. “Stubbornness?”
“Fire,” Jack stated.
