“Why?” The question burst out of her, sharp with confusion and something that felt dangerously close to hurt. Her chest ached with it. “If ye didnae want me here, if ye told me to leave, why would ye let them believe?—”
“Because they’ve been discussin' overthrowin' me,” Murdock interrupted. “Me council. Despite the people who support me, some think I’m nae legitimate enough because I havenae siredan heir. Me daughter is apparently nae sufficient to secure the succession.”
Leona’s eyes widened. She’d heard of clan politics being brutal, but this?
“They would remove ye for that?”
“Politics in the Highlands is brutal, lass.” Murdock’s expression was hard, carved from stone. “A laird without heirs is a laird whose power can be questioned, whose position can be challenged. If I take a wife, if I show I’m working to secure the line, they’ll back down. At least for a while.”
Understanding dawned on her like cold water. The pieces fell into place with sickening clarity. “So ye need me.”
“And ye need me,” Murdock pointed out, his voice taking on an edge. “Or did ye forget ye came here beggin' for protection?”
The words stung.
Leona flinched as if he’d struck her, heat flooding her cheeks. But she refused to back down, refused to drop her gaze from his. “I’m nae sure what answer ye expect from me, me Laird. Should I thank ye for using me troubles to solve yer own? Should I be grateful to be part of another scheme?”
Something flickered in his dark eyes. Irritation, perhaps. Or was it something else?
“What I expect,” Murdock said, closing the distance between them until they were nearly nose to nose, “is for ye to recognize a solution when it’s offered.”
Leona’s breath caught in her throat. He was so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body, could smell leather and pine and something uniquely him. Her heart hammered against her ribs so hard she was certain he could hear it.
“We marry,” he continued, his voice dropping lower. “It solves both our problems. Ye get protection from Ragnall, I get me council off me back. Simple.”
Simple. He made it sound so simple, as if marriage was nothing more than a business transaction. As if she hadn’t spent her entire life dreaming of something more.
“Absolutely nae.” The words came out immediately. She took a step back, needing distance before his proximity scrambled her thoughts any further. Her chin lifted in defiance. “I’ll nae marry anyone, especially nae like this.”
Murdock moved forward, matching her retreat until they were close again. Too close. She could see the amber flecks in his dark eyes, could count the scars on his face that she’d tended in the dungeon. Her pulse fluttered wildly at her throat, and she knew he could see it.
“I daenae take rejection well, lassie,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.
“Well, I mean…” Leona faltered, struggling to maintain her anger when all she could think about was how broad his shoulders were, how his presence seemed to fill the space around her. “Ye just killed me betrothed. What makes ye think I’d marry ye?”
“Because I’m nothin' like that bastard, lass.” Murdock’s voice dropped even lower, more intense. The sound of it did strange things to her insides, made her stomach flutter and her skin prickle with awareness. “I would protect ye. And we’d lead separate lives. This would be a marriage of convenience, nothing more.”
And there it was.
“That is the problem, me Laird,” Leona said softly.
He frowned, confusion flashing across his face. “What?”
“I want to marry for love, me Laird.” The words came out softer now, almost pleading. She hated how vulnerable they made her sound, but she couldn’t seem to stop them. “I want what me parents had. Partnership, affection, someone who looks at me and sees more than just a means to an end. Is that so much to ask?”
“Love?” Murdock scoffed, and his expression hardened. “Love is a fairytale, lass. A story told to children. Real life is about survival, about makin' alliances that keep ye and yer kin safe. That’s all any of us can hope for.”
The words hit her like ice water.
Leona stared at him, seeing not the man who’d let her tend his wounds with gentle hands, but someone harsher.
“Then I pity ye,” she said, and she meant it. Genuine sadness welled up in her chest. “Because if that’s all ye think life offers, ye’re the poorest man I’ve ever met.”
Something flickered across his face, too quick to read. Had she hurt him?
Good. He deserved it.
Murdock was quiet for a moment, then seemed to regroup. “Fine. Ye want nay part of marriage, I understand that. But consider this.” He paused, and when he spoke again, there was a calculating edge to his voice. “We could pretend. A betrothal, nothing more. It would keep me council quiet for a year, give ye time to figure out how to reclaim yer clan. After that, we part ways.”
