Ellie swallowed. Had she been that obvious about it? She felt herself blush slightly but then steeled herself and nodded. If she were going to follow through with her plan, she might need help. Having the kind old Laird in her corner may prove helpful. She could trust him, right? “I…aye,” she admitted. “Aye, I want to be gone. Every day here now is…more and more difficult.”
Lachlan nodded thoughtfully. “I think I may have a solution.”
Ellie looked at him curiously. Could he possibly have a better idea than her own? “I’m listening, my lai—” He stopped her with a look, and she quickly corrected. “…er, Lachlan.”
“I propose,” Lachlan said, scratching just under his beard in thought. “That ye and I are wed.”
Ellie stood in complete silence for some moments. Had she heard correctly? She was young enough to be his daughter. There is no way he could be serious in his proposal, could he? “Pardon me, my laird, but did I hear ye rightly? Ye wish to be wed? To me?”
“Me daughter, Jemina; she’s practically a woman now. She needs a stepmother to help her become a Lady,” Sinclair mused. “And I ken that, outside of yer grief, ye’re an expert in the field of nobility. And, well…beyond that, Heloise, ye’re a true beauty. Ye ken that, aye?”
Ellie raised an eyebrow, taken aback.Beauty?What in the world was this? Instead, she focused on the other part of what he’d said. “A…stepmother? Laird Sinclair, I’m only five years her senior,” Ellie protested.
Sinclair waved a dismissive hand. “Ahh, I told ye tae call me Lachlan. It doesnae matter,” he said. “She’ll take to ye better because ye’re young. And there are selfish reasons, as well. I’m an old man. I need some company in me twilight years.”
“Ye arenae even fifty yet,” Ellie protested, mostly because she felt like she should. “That’s hardly old, nae compared to some. Me own mother’s mother has already entered her eighth decade, and she’s doing grand.”
Lachlan smiled, but Ellie thought she saw an unfamiliar edge in his jaw at the gesture. Surely, he could not be angry at her refusal. It was a preposterous idea.
“Then I suppose me age willnae be a deterrent,” he said. “Heloise, I ken what it’s like to be mournful. Let me help ye out of it.”
Ellie paused.
“Ye and I will be joined, and I’ll take care of ye,” Sinclair continued, “Ye’ll nae longer need to worry about…family discord.”
Ellie nodded slowly, processing the Laird’s proposal. It came from nowhere. She searched her mind for any indication that she may have encouraged the Laird in any way or given any indication that a proposal was something she was agreeable to. “I…wasnae expecting this,” she confessed. Marriage? To Laird Sinclair? She had already committed to not marrying for love. Yet, it felt wrong. She could not name precisely why, but she knew marrying Laird Sinclair was not the answer she was looking for. She would do better on her own. Nay, she could not accept. “It’s a very kind offer. And I’m very flattered. I could certainly do worse by a husband than yerself. But…”
“Ahh lass, mayhap I wasnae clear. The matter has already been decided. Yer mother and I have made an arrangement. This discussion was only a courtesy to ye lass. Ye will be me bride. I was only asking tae be kind. I’ll be the luckiest man alive to have a beautiful young wife like ye,” Sinclair replied, taking her hand in his. It felt strange there.
“We leave on in three days' time.”
Ellie’s head spun. Whatever was happening was happening too fast for her to process or understand. This had to be a nightmare.
* * *
Aidam heard shouting coming from the keep’s morning rooms and rushed in to investigate. Sure enough, he caught the tail end of the argument. Leaning against the door to the room, he could not help but hear the discussion between Ellie and her mother.
“Ye will marry Lachlan Sinclair, ye foolish girl. Ye dinnae have the choices for yer life that ye think,” shrieked Lady MacAskill, her rage acting to smother something else—was it pain? Ellie marry his uncle? What of this? Aidam had heard nothing of the kind. As far as he knew, his uncle was sworn never to marry again. Certainly not to Ellie; she was more than half his age. He…he was old enough to be her father. Surely, Aidam misunderstood.
“I ken ye hated me, Mother, but I didnae think ye’d force me in tae a marriage I didnae want,” Ellie said in a voice of deadly quiet. “It’s cruel. Father would—” Suddenly, there was a crash against the doors loud enough for Aidam to jump back and brace himself. As the door flew open, shards of glass clattered to the floor. He didn’t know who threw the vase, but it didn’t matter as Aidam watched Ellie storm out of her mother’s rooms, expression darker than he had ever seen.
He knew that she was going to turn her sharp temper on him for approaching, but he wanted to make sure that she was all right. He felt it his duty, even if she insisted that they had not been friends.
“Heloise!” he called, running after her. “Ellie, wait!”
She turned, frowning, then outwardly sighed as she saw him—her only response to seeing him these days—Aidam did not let it bother him.
He took a moment to gauge her appearance. She was visibly upset. Black circles of exhaustion ringed her eyes, drawing notice to their swollen appearance. Her hair was still a little damp, tied in a tight bun on top of her head, but she’d changed into another black dress and even adorned the required mourning cap. Aidam had always thought black a dour color, but especially so on Ellie. It drew away from the sparkle of her fair skin, washing her out, aging her beyond her two and twenty years.
“What do ye want?” she asked. “I’m nae in the mood for yer incompetent flirtations, lad.”
Lad? I’m four years older than ye are. And there’s naught incompetent about—
He was getting distracted—as no doubt, she’d intended. “I overheard yer conversation.”
“Ah, so ye’re an eavesdropper as well,” she said, folding her arms, terribly unimpressed. “The list of yer flaws only seems to grow longer an’ longer.”
Aidam ignored her comments. He would give her leave of her senses based on what he just heard. “What’s this I hear about ye bein’ set tae marry my uncle?” he asked. “Surely, I misheard.”
