After a long moment of silence, Michael elbowed him in the ribs. Alexander brought his attention back to the present and away from the what-ifs. Clearing his throat, he narrowed his eyes at her.
“And how would that be a solution, lass? Wouldnae yer faither disagree with yer proposal? Does he even ken ye’re here, speakin’ to me about marriage beneath his very nose? Why should I trust ye? How do I ken this isnae some trap for him to justify his war?”
“It is ye I shouldnae trust, Me Laird,” Helena chastised, fire in her eyes. “Yet, here I am, on a leap of pure faith. I dinnae want to continue to watch me people suffer because me foolish faither cannae see past his anger and refuses to change his ways.”
Alexander considered her response for a long moment. He was fully aware that the entire Clan MacPherson blamed him for the deaths of Broderic and Ian. Despite that, he had to wonder.
He exchanged another look with Michael, who shrugged subtly, seeming to have the same thoughts. He had to admit that the idea had merit. However, she still hadn’t fully answered his question.
“Why should I agree to this marriage? Lettin’ me enemy into me home and into me bed?” Alexander asked, his eyes narrowing on her as he stood over her. “Ye better have a convincin’ reason.”
“Because, Me Laird,” she drawled, squaring her shoulders. “If we marry, me faither would be forced to sign a truce. He would be forced to stick to it too. He cannae attack his own daughter—his only livin’ child. His alliances, his deals with other lairds, would all crumble.”
Alexander studied her, impressed by her obvious but still clever solution to their collective problem. She sounded earnest, and she wouldn’t have risked her life for nothing.
“Give us a minute to consider yer proposal, lass,” Alexander grunted, motioning for Michael to follow him to the horses.
“What do ye think?” Michael asked hesitantly, once he was sure the lass could no longer hear them. “It’s a trap of another kind if ye ask me. Would MacPherson actually accept the truce if ye married her?”
“I honestly dinnae ken. I dinnae believe he would have a choice but to accept it. If the lass and I wed, I would be next in line to the lairdship, as custodian until our son comes of age,” Alexander answered, his thoughts racing.
“Is it a solution ye want to pursue? Is it somethin’ ye could live with? If nae, dinnae do it. I dinnae care how pretty and innocent her doe eyes are,” Michael said, glancing over his shoulder at the doe-eyed lass in question.
Alexander grabbed his brother’s arm and leaned in. His eyes flashed with a silent warning before the next words left his mouth.
“If I do marry her, ye are never to call her pretty, innocent, or doe-eyed again, ye hear me? Ye keep yer wanderin’, insatiable eyes off of her,” he hissed.
“Aye. Aye. I’m just askin’ for yer sake.” Michael threw his hands up. “Nay sense in makin’ ye more miserable than ye already are.”
The sideways glance that Alexander pinned his brother with said it all. It warned him to quit while he was ahead.
With a nod of silent agreement, they walked purposely back to where Helena waited patiently.
“Alright, lass, let’s just say I agree with ye. That marryin’ ye would put an end to the war between our clans and unite them. Are ye prepared to do it?” Alexander asked.
He crossed to her side of the fire, crouching down beside her to look her in the eye. This close, he could smell her—she smelled like roses and sage. A growl rumbled in his chest when he spoke next.
“Are ye prepared to do it? Now? Return with me to MacAllister Castle and marry me?” he pressed, savoring the power he held over the conversation.
He was curious to know how far he could push before she broke.
A look of panic crossed her delicate features. It quickly became obvious that she hadn’t been prepared to enact her proposal soquickly. It was also obvious to him that she was pure, having no idea what to do with a man so close to her.
The idea that she was untouched thrilled him even more.
And that thrill only egged him on.
He needed to take her back with him. Today. Now. Every instinct screamed at him that she was his and not to let her out of his sight.
“I… I dinnae have me things,” she stammered. “I need time to prepare.”
Alexander rose to his feet, wiping his hands on his green tartan to smooth it.
Michael followed suit, mimicking his actions slowly as if making to ready the horses for them to leave. He doused the fire and collected the ale bottles as Alexander continued the standoff between him and the feisty lass.
“Well then, lass, ye should leave. Ye obviously havenae given this considerable thought and have prematurely requested our presence here.”
“Wait. Nay!” Helena shot to her feet, rushing around the fire to grip his arm and stop him from retreating further, slight panic on her pretty face.
