“—too soon?—”
“—must happen?—”
When Sebastian cleared his throat, the comments around the long table ceased. His uncle had the benefit of not constantly going against the council’s wishes like he did, and they listened to him simply because they could use him. If anything, the council was rather fond of him for his obedience, and so he was the one connecting link between Kieran and the others.
If there was one person on whom he could rely on to change the minds of those men, it was his uncle. But from the sound of it, his uncle didn’t seem to share the opinion that getting a new wife was a foolish, dangerous idea.
“Ye command it, aye,” Sebastian said. “But the clan commands ye in return. Our people are watchin’, Kieran. Whispers travel faster than wind in these hills. Three wives gone, and still nay heir. The people grow restless.”
Kieran’s gaze flicked to him, something between grief and fury crossing his features. “Do ye think I daenae ken what they say?”
Of course he did; he had heard it all. He had heard the pity, the accusations, the suspicion among his people. Even those closest to him were not all certain regarding his innocence, and Kieran didn’t know how to prove it.
Even he had to admit that losing three wives was suspicious. But precisely because he didn’t know who was at fault, he could not condemn another woman to marry him.
It willnae be a weddin’. It will be her funeral.
Sebastian’s voice softened along with his features, but his words were no less jarring because of it. “They say what they fear… that the laird’s bloodline falters. That the McDawsons grow weak.”
“Then they are fools.”
“Perhaps,” Sebastian said evenly, “but they are our fools, and we must keep them believin’. This alliance gives leverage, trade, reputation. A chance to mend what’s been broken.”
Kieran gave a short, humorless laugh. “Broken? Ye mean cursed.”
The word hung heavily in the air. No one spoke—no one dared. What was there to say, after all? They had to know he was right, even if they wouldn’t admit it.
Thunder rolled again, closer this time, rattling the windowpanes.
Kieran began to pace, each step echoing through the chamber. “Ye would have me take another wife… another woman to bury before the year is done. Tell me, uncle, how many graves must we dig before ye all understand I am dangerous?”
Sebastian shook his head with a sigh, sympathy crossing his features. “Ye’re nae the one killin’ them, Kieran.”
“Nay,” Kieran said, quietly. “But someone is.”
At first, a heavy, unsettling silence fell over the room. Then, a murmur rippled through the council, the older men exchanging uneasy glances, their suspicion stoked once more as it was every time the subject was mentioned.
Sebastian exhaled harshly through his nose. “And yet, until we ken who is responsible, we must move forward. Ye’re still the Laird, and a laird must protect his clan.”
“By weddin’ a stranger?”
“By ensurin’ the line doesnae die with ye.”
Kieran’s hands clenched into fists as he stared into the flames, their reflection burning in his eyes. “Ye force me hand in this, and I’ll nae forget it.”
The eldest councilman cleared his throat. “There are rules in place, Me Laird… rules that are far older than ye and far older than us all. If ye refuse, ye forfeit yer title. The council will name another to lead. The people need stability, nae superstition.”
Kieran turned his head slowly, his stare like a drawn blade. “Ye’d strip me of me birthright for refusin’ a marriage?”
“For refusin’ duty,” the man said though his voice quivered.
Kieran’s lips curved, not in a smile but in something that more closely resembled a snarl. “Ye’re tryin’ somethin’ dangerous,” he said. “I’d be careful if I were ye. I am still the Laird of this clan, and I willnae stand for such treatment. Ye think yerselves clever? Ye think yerselves clever when ye’re about to condemn an innocent woman to her death?”
No one answered. Around the table, the men of his council mumbled among themselves once more, their voices quiet, muffled; they didn’t want Kieran to hear anything they had to say, and this secrecy was what bothered him the most.
They treat me like I’m a bairn… This was always their biggest mistake.
Sebastian stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Kieran… enough. This isnae about pride. It’s survival. The clan cannae afford another scandal, another death without an heir. Ye must wed this lass.”
