“Only one way to find out,” Hamish said, sounding far too amused for his liking.
Murdock was out of the study and striding through the castle before Hamish could say another word. His boots thudded against stone as he took the stairs two at a time, navigatingthe corridors with single-minded purpose. Behind him, he could hear Hamish following, not even trying to keep up.
He reached the garden just as Fraser and the other councilmen spotted him. To his growing alarm, they broke into wide smiles and began advancing on him with hands outstretched, looking for all the world like men about to congratulate someone on excellent news.
“Congratulations, me Laird!” Fraser boomed, grasping Murdock’s hand and shaking it enthusiastically before he could even process what was happening.
Murdock’s mind raced, searching for what could possibly warrant this response. Had they won a dispute? Received favorable terms on a trade agreement?
“What for?”
“Why, for yer upcomin' weddin', of course!” another councilman chimed in, his face split with a grin wide enough to show missing teeth.
The world seemed to tilt. “Me what?”
“Yer weddin' to the bonnie lady, Da!” Skye piped up, appearing at his elbow with Nyx draped over her shoulder like a furry stole. “I already told them that she’s stayin' here with her brother. And the kitty.”
She blinked up at him with those wide brown eyes, the picture of innocence. But Murdock caught the slightest glimmer of calculation in them, a look he recognized because he’d seen it in his mirror often enough.
His daughter, it seemed, had inherited more than just his stubbornness. She’d inherited his strategic mind as well.
He was doomed.
“Is it true, me Laird?” Fraser pressed, still gripping Murdock’s hand. “Are ye finally takin' a wife? It’s been too long since we’ve had a Lady at Ainsley. And the clan needs heirs, strong ones to secure the succession.”
The other councilmen were already launching into speeches about how it was high time he remarried, how the clan needed heirs, how Lady Leona seemed like a fine choice. Strong bloodline. Good breeding. And the alliance with Clan Kerr, even a fractured one, could prove valuable in these uncertain times.
Murdock felt the world closing in. Every word was another stone in a trap he hadn’t seen being set. He glared at them, crossing his arms in a gesture they all knew well. The temperature in the garden seemed to drop ten degrees.
Immediately, the congratulations tapered off. They remembered their place, remembered who they were talking to. They stepped back with nervous coughs and mumbled apologies, their enthusiasm deflating like punctured wineskins.
“We meant nay offense, me Laird,” Fraser said quickly. “We’re simply… pleased. For ye. And for the clan.”
“Aye,” another added. “It’s good news. The best we’ve heard in years.”
But the damage was done. The lie was out there, spreading like wildfire through the castle. Within hours, every servant, every guard, every person within these walls would know that their Laird was to wed Lady Leona Gilmore. By afternoon, the village would hear. By tomorrow, neighboring clans would receive word.
There was no putting this back in the bottle.
Murdock’s gaze fell on Skye, who was studiously avoiding looking at him. One hand absently stroked Nyx’s back. The cat purred smugly, as if aware of the chaos it had helped create.
“Skye,” he said, his voice carrying a warning that made the councilmen scatter like leaves in a storm, though they didn’t leave, much to his disappointment. “We’ll speak about this. Soon.”
She nodded but didn’t meet his eyes, and something in his chest twisted painfully. She was lonely. So desperately lonely that she’d lie to his councilmen just to keep a cat, just to ensure she had some companionship beyond the father who was always busy with clan matters.
What did that say about him as a parent?
“Me Laird, if I may,” Fraser ventured, hovering at a safe distance. “When might we expect the formal announcement? The clan will want to celebrate. And there are preparations to make…”
“Later,” Murdock bit out. “I’ll inform ye when the time comes.”
The councilmen bowed and retreated, though Murdock could hear their excited whispers as they disappeared back toward the keep. Planning. Already planning a wedding that he hadn’t agreed to.
Movement at the castle entrance drew his attention. Leona had emerged, clearly intending to head toward the stables. Her brother was likely already there, preparing their horses for the departure Murdock had demanded. The departure that now seemed impossible.
She was dressed for travel again, her small pack slung over one shoulder. Even from this distance, he could see the set of her jaw, the proud tilt of her chin that said she wouldn’t beg, wouldn’t plead for what he’d already denied her. She’d leave with her head high and her dignity intact, no matter what it cost her.
The morning sun caught her hair, turning the black strands to silk threaded with light. Her cloak was fastened at her throat, but the wind caught it, pressing the fabric against her body in a way that made his mouth go dry.
