Silence fell over the council chamber.
"Younger blood?" Elder Malcolm frowned. "Is he threatenin' yer braithers?"
"Nay." Tòrr's hands clenched into fists on the table. "He's threatenin' Nessa, Liliane's younger sister. Fourteen years old." Tòrr's voice was ice. "Munro's own daughter."
"Christ." Michael's face paled. "He'd use his own child as leverage?"
"He already did once." Tòrr met his brother's eyes. "Liliane told me last night. Before the auction, Munro threatened tae send Nessa in her place if she refused tae comply. That's why she agreed tae be sold, tae protect her sister."
"And now he's threatenin' tae what? Sell the other lass too?" Elder Gregor's disgust was evident.
"Or worse. Use her tae force Liliane's return. Hurt her tae make a point." Tòrr's jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. "Either way,he's makin' it clear that if I dinnae return Liliane, Nessa pays the price."
"Then send the lass back," Malcolm said bluntly. "Before this escalates further."
"Nay."
"Me laird, be reasonable."
"I said nay." Tòrr's voice cracked like a whip. "Sendin' Liliane back means she's at his mercy again. Means the alliance I broke by takin' her gets reformed. Means everythin' I've done was fer naethin'."
"And if war comes of it?" Gregor challenged. "If Munro rallies the Pact against us?"
"Then we fight." Tòrr met each man's eyes in turn. "But we dinnae hand over a woman under me protection tae a man who uses his own daughters as pawns."
"Even if keepin' her puts the entire clan at risk?" Malcolm's voice was hard.
"The clan's already at risk. We were at risk the moment I bid fer her, the moment I defied Campbell's little auction scheme." Tòrr leaned forward. "Sendin' her back now would be showin' weakness. Would be admittin' we cannae hold what we've claimed."
"But the consummation issue, me laird." Gregor began.
Tòrr made sure his voice was as hard as stone. "What about it?" He turned deadly cold eyes to Gregor.
He watched Gregor swallow several times, glancing at the other men for help. When no one spoke, the words spilt out, each one stumbling over the other. "Ye ken the marriage can be annulled if it hasnae been properly completed. Munro has grounds fer his appeal."
The room turned silent, the men waiting for their laird to confirm that the marriage was indeed complete. When no confirmation came from Tòrr, Michael cleared his throat.
"Only if he can prove it," Michael pointed out. "And how can he prove what happens in our laird's private chambers?"
"He daesnae need proof," Malcolm said grimly. "He just needs the accusation. He just needs tae plant enough doubt in the king's mind that the marriage looks questionable."
"Then we remove the question, me laird." Captain Fraser spoke for the first time. "Consummate the marriage. Give them naethin' tae challenge."
All eyes turned to Tòrr.
"The elders have been pressin' fer the beddin' sheet since the weddin' night," Malcolm said carefully. "Ye've put us off, madeexcuses. But time's runnin' out, me laird. If ye want this marriage tae stand, it must be made real."
"I’m givin’ me wife time tae adjust," Tòrr growled through gritted teeth.
"And that time's now expired," Gregor replied. "Munro's forced yer hand. Either ye claim her properly, or ye risk losin' her and the political advantage she represents."
"The festival's soon," Michael said quietly. "After that, ye'll have nay more excuses. Nay more time."
"I'm aware." Tòrr's voice was dangerous.
"Nay one's suggestin' force, me laird," Gregor said carefully. "But surely ye can convince the lass."
"I'm nae havin' this discussion again." Tòrr stood abruptly. "The marriage stands. Liliane stays. End of debate."
