There was really nothing to do but follow him.
Melody found herself in a circular room, dominated by a circular table. Papers and maps were set out tidily on the table, pinned down or weighed down at the corners. Inkwells, pens, andnavigational tools lay here and there, mixed in with a few empty glasses and mugs.
She recognized Lucas, with his long, curling hair and powerful, stocky build, leaning up against the wall. Aside from him, there was only one other man in the room. He sat at the table, leaning back, eyes narrowed and fixed on no point in particular.
There was something foxlike about his long, sinewy build, coupled with the graying red hair and beard he wore. He glanced up when they entered, his gaze immediately landing on Melody. His eyes, such a dark brown that one could not see the pupil, narrowed.
“Well, then, Callum,” he murmured. “Who’s this? I heard tell of an English lass wandering around the Keep. Is she a spy, then?”
“Nay, nae a spy,” Callum responded tightly. “Her name is Melody. Melody, this man is Angus Matheson. He’s my chief councilman. Nothin’ is done in this Keep without his knowledge, so of course, he is the first one we must tell.”
Angus’ thin face darkened. “Tell? Tell me what?”
Callum hauled out a chair from the table and, with a rough gesture, indicated that Melody should sit in it.
She’d have preferred to remain standing, perhaps beside Lucas—he seemed to have a friendly face—but defying Callum seemed like a singularly bad idea. So, she trotted over to him obedientlyand sat down. She’d expected Callum to find a seat of his own next, but instead he stayed where he was, behind her chair.
“Ye have often told me I should wed, Angus,” Callum said heavily. “Ye speak a good deal about the welfare of the clan and Keep, and the duty owed from a laird to his people. Well, I ken ye thought that I was nae listenin’, but that’s nae quite true. I heard ye, man. I listened carefully.”
“Do ye mean to say that ye will consider a betrothal?” Angus asked at once, brightening. “An arrangement can be made within a week, or perhaps sooner. If I had known that ye were interested, I could have chosen a selection of women for…”
“I already have a betrothal,” Callum interrupted. “I’m to wed Melody here.”
A heavy silence descended upon the room. Melody found herself holding her breath, not entirely sure why. Angus stared at her without blinking, and a deep furrow appeared between his brows.
“Betrothed already?” he said at last, voice catching. “To anEnglishlass?”
“Findin’ fault, eh, Angus?” Callum responded. His hand landed on Melody’s shoulder, warm and heavy. “For years ye have nagged me to find a bride, and now I find one, ye disapprove of where she was born. I’m sure the lass cannaehelpbeing English.”
Angus cleared his throat, shifting his position. He rested his elbow on the table, papers crinkling under his arm. He began to drum his fingertips, still eyeing Melody through a heavy frown.
“It’s nae the match we hoped for ye, to be sure,” Angus said at last.
“The Laird can wed who he wants, though, eh?” Lucas pointed out.
Angus grunted. “Aye, with the will of his people. I am nae sure the clan will like an English Lady MacDean.”
“The MacLeons accepted an English lady,” Melody spoke up. It was the first time she’d said anything since entering the meeting room. Angus shot her a quick, surprised look. Had he thought that she was mute? Maybe he just expected her to stay meek and quiet.
Like a wallflower,Melody thought, with a rush of anger.I’m not a wallflower. I can be different here.
“How do ye ken about that?” Angus demanded.
Callum’s hand on her shoulder tightened.
“Careful, Angus. It’ll do ye nay favors to speak to the future Lady MacDean that way.”
Melody hadn’t expected Callum to speak up for her. After all, they weren’t really betrothed. He wasn’treallydrawn to her. While he might be the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on—the wildness about him sparked an odd feeling inside her stomach that she wasn’t sure she ought to be feeling—he almost certainly did not feel the same. So why should he care if his councilman spoke sharply to her?
Angus broke into a tight smile. “Apologies, me Laird. I meant nay harm.”
Melody bit her tongue and stayed quiet. She’d told Callum that her sister was now married to Laird MacLeon, and no doubt this councilman would dig it all up sooner or later. It wasn’t a secret, after all, but his sharp tone didn’t make her want to share information with him.
“Well,” Angus said, when the silence dragged on a little too long, “let me offer me congratulations, me Laird. I am glad to see that ye are finally settlin’ down to the serious business of rulin’ a clan. A Lady of the Keep will stabilize us, and so will the prospect of an heir. It’ll do us all good, and as for the English lass… well, I’m sure she can be trained.”
“Trained?” Melody spoke up before she could stop herself. “I am not a dog.”
Lucas gave a snort of laughter, hastily turning it into a cough. Callum’s hand on her shoulder gave a slow squeeze, almost as a warning, then the warm weight of his hand disappeared altogether.
