But even as fear crawled up her spine, she couldn’t help but notice something else. He hadn’t agreed with a single criticism her parents had made. Hadn’t nodded along when they called her too difficult, too independent, too substantial. Instead, he’d grown angrier with each word.
Why?
“Now,” Elijah continued, his voice returning to normal conversational tones as if he hadn’t just threatened to destroy everything they held dear, “as I was sayin’, Iris will do perfectly well as me bride. She’s intelligent, she’s nae cowerin’ despite everythin’ she’s just heard, and she’s loyal to her family, or she would have walked away from this farce by now.”
His eyes found hers across the room, and she felt pinned like a butterfly on a collector’s board. “Those are the qualities I need in a wife. Nae some delicate flower who’ll faint at the first sign of trouble or even run away from it.”
Iris’s breath caught. He was defending her. Actuallydefendingher against her own parents’ criticisms. When had anyone ever done that?
“But me laird,” Catherine started again, desperation making her voice shrill.
“But nothin’.” He cut her off with surgical precision. “Yer daughter Lydia proved she’s a coward by runnin’ rather than facin’ her duty. Do ye really think I want someone like that raisin’ me son? Teachin’ him that the answer to difficulty is to run and hide?”
The insult to Lydia hit Iris like a physical blow. “Daenae ye dare!”
“Dare what?” Elijah turned that cold gaze on her, and she felt like a mouse that had just drawn the attention of a hunting hawk. “Speak the truth? Yer sister abandoned her responsibilities and left ye to clean up her mess. What would ye call that if nae cowardice?”
Iris wanted to defend Lydia, wanted to explain about the fear and the terrible stories, but the words stuck in her throat because a small, bitter part of her agreed with him. Lydia had run. Had left Iris to face the consequences alone.
“I’ll nae have this discussion again,” Elijah announced, addressing her parents but keeping his eyes on Iris. “Ye have until sunset to prepare yer daughter for our departure.”
“Departure?” Iris found her voice though it came out rougher than she’d intended. “We’re leavin’ today?”
“The contracts will be signed within the hour. We’ll be wed tonight and travel to me lands.” His tone was matter of fact, like he was discussing the weather rather than completely upending her entire life. “Unless, of course, yer family would prefer to discuss the alternative.”
Edward and Catherine exchanged desperate looks, and Iris could practically see them calculating the cost of defiance against the cost of sacrifice.
She was losing.
“Me laird,” Edward tried one last time, his voice breaking with desperation, “surely ye can see that this is all happenin’ too fast. Iris needs time to prepare, to... to adjust to the idea.”
“Time for what? To run like her sister did?” Elijah’s words were harsh and bitter. “Nay. I’ve learned nae to give reluctant brides too much time to think. If I daenae have a bride by the end of the day, I will nae be responsible for me actions.”
The threat hung in the air like smoke from a funeral pyre. Iris could see her parents crumbling, their last desperate gambit failing before her eyes.
“Of course, me laird,” Catherine said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “Whatever ye think is best.”
“Excellent.” Elijah turned to Iris, and she saw something flicker in those dark eyes—not quite satisfaction but close. “Yer maidcan help ye pack. Bring only what ye need. Everythin’ else can be replaced.”
The casual dismissal of her entire life hit her like a slap. Her books, her small treasures, the life she’d built in the margins of her family’s expectations—all of it reduced to “everything else".
“And if I refuse?” The words came out before she could stop them.
The hall went deadly quiet. Her parents looked horrified, and she could practically feel their terror radiating across the space between them.
Elijah studied her for a long moment, his head tilted slightly as if she were a particularly interesting puzzle. When he spoke, his voice was low but gruff which somehow made it infinitely more terrifying.
“Then yer family will pay the price for both yer defiance and yer sister’s cowardice. Is that what ye want, Iris? To see everythin’ they’ve built crumble because ye’re too proud to do yer duty?”
She stared at him.
“Nay,” she finally whispered.
“Good.” He nodded once, sharp and final. “Then I suggest ye start packin’.”
As he strode from the hall, his boots echoing against the stone with each step. Iris realized her legs suddenly couldn’t support her, and she sank into the nearest chair. Her mind was reeling with everything that had just happened.
In a few hours, she’d be married to a man she’d known for less than a day. A man who commanded loyalty through fear, who threatened her family’s destruction as casually as discussing the weather, who somehow saw value in her when her own parents saw only failure.
