Alaina and Sophie already stood at the broadest end of the space, where a low platform stretched out, facing the rest of the room. Ryder’s throne had been placed there, and a smaller chair had been put beside him. With a jolt, Megan realized that it was forher.
She hurried toward the girls, who smiled encouragingly at her. Flora waddled behind Megan, her arms cradled protectively around her belly. Megan wondered briefly what Flora had seen in her face when she left the room. Ryder had stayed behind, crisply telling them to go on without him.
The flush had faded from her cheeks by now, and that was something. She felt more composed, less… lessheated.
As she moved toward the girls, she noticed a tall, stocky man talking to a group of men nearby. Both Alaina and Sophie kept glancing at the man. They both looked over at her as she approached, and the man turned.
He had a headful of dark red hair, scraped with gray at the temples, and narrow peat-brown eyes. His face was sun-spotted and tanned, the lines around his eyes making him seem older than he was. The rest of him, however, was strong and toned, and Megan estimated that he was forty-five years old, give or take.
“Forgive me, lass, but I must ask whether ye are the famous Megan Blackwood, betrothed to me nephew?”
Megan cleared her throat, glancing up at him. She smiled in what she hoped was a friendly and encouraging way.
“Aye, that is me,” she answered, dropping a lopsided curtsy.
The man gave a small smile, as if amused at something she did not quite understand. He bowed tautly and looked her over boldly.
“Ye are a beautiful lass,” he remarked. “But then, I could not imagine that me nephew would choose a woman who was nae beautiful.”
Megan stiffened. How was she supposed to respond to that?
“Forgive me,” he added, when the silence stretched out. “I’m a blunt man and a soldier. I speak me mind when I shouldnae. It’s a flaw, I can assure ye. Me councilors tear out their hair at me tactlessness.”
She had to smile at that and shook her head. “I admire yer honesty.”
It struck her then that while Ryder did not refer to Logan as his uncle, Logan referred tohimas his nephew. How strange. She wondered how deep the breach between them was. Perhaps there wasn’t a breach at all, at least on Logan’s side.
“Nae everybody does. Tell me, lass, how is Ryder? His letters are crisp and businesslike. I hear little about how he is. This betrothal news was… concernin’.”
Megan paused, tilting her head. Well, ifhecould be honest, so could she.
“Concernin’? What do ye mean by that?”
Logan eyed her thoughtfully. She thought she detected a hint of annoyance in his eyes. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
Ryder said that his uncle doesnae like witty women. Well, that’s too bad, because I am nae going to muzzle meself to make this man—or any man—comfortable.
She lifted her chin just a little, holding his gaze, and waited for his response.
“I suppose I had thought that if he married, he would choose a bride who allied him to another clan,” Logan answered at last. “I assumed he would make a political marriage, nae a love-match.”
When the muscle in his cheek twitched again, Megan noticed for the first time a small, crescent-shaped scar there. When the muscle twitched, the barely-there scar tugged at his skin.
It gave her something of a start to realize that their marriage was considered alove-match. After all, political marriages were arranged through proxies, with the two clans knowing about it.
But he didnae choose me,she reminded herself, swallowing hard.I cannae lose sight of that.
She was suddenly aware that she had missed a beat, and that Logan was watching her with an intense, curious stare. He hadan intense way of looking at people, which made her feel as though he could see all her thoughts.
It wasn’t pleasant, but then, he was a laird. All lairds were a little odd, in Megan’s opinion.
“Aye, ours is an unusual match, to be sure,” she managed at last.
Well, it’s nae a lie.
Logan nodded thoughtfully. “I am just grateful that he is marryin’ at last. Every laird ought to marry, for a host of reasons. Ryder, though, always thinks that he is the exception to every rule. I have tried to talk to him before, but he willnae listen. It seems that he will, at last, listen to someone. To ye. What a blessin’, eh?”
Was he mocking her? Megan thought so. Still, there was a kernel of truth in what he said. Since the beginning of time, lairds who were wise listened to their wives. The more they loved them, the more they listened. The Lady of the Keep was the second most powerful person in the whole clan. Just how close a second she was depended on how clever she was.
