A ripple of shock ran through the gathered men. One councilman stepped forward, and there was disbelief etched across his face. “Me laird, that cannae be wise. The lady was promised tae yer braither, nae tae ye. The matter should end with his death.”
Another spoke more sharply. “She is nae even a laird’s daughter, me laird. The match was already a stretch fer the second-born. Fer ye, the laird himself tae take her, it would upset the order of things.”
Baird’s gaze swept the room, resting on every single man for a moment. “The order of things,” he repeated in a loud challenge. “And what order is that? Tae break a pact made in good faith? Tae bring shame upon me clan?”
Davina’s father seized the moment. “Me daughter has done naething tae deserve disgrace,” he said firmly. “If the Kincaids withdraw now, every clan in the Highlands will take it as an insult: tae us, and tae the memory of the braither ye’ve lost.”
Murmurs filled the chamber. One man shook his head. “But the people will talk. They will say the laird married his braither’s bride before the grave was cold.”
Baird’s jaw tightened. “Let them talk.” He looked toward Davina then, and she felt herself blush under the weight of his gaze. “Thehonorable path is clear. The Fletchers stood beside us in loyalty and blood. If we falter now, their trust dies with me braither.”
He turned back to the Council. “There will be nay disgrace. The ceremony will go forward. Lady Davina Fletcher will be me wife, and by that vow, the bond between our clans will stand unbroken. Gather in the Grand Hall, all of ye. The witnesses must see the vows kept, or rumor will eat us alive by morning.”
The councilmen exchanged uneasy glances, some bowing their heads, and others whispering in protest. But none dared to defy him.
“As ye command, me laird.”
The room stirred. Chairs scraped and whispers rose as one by one, the men began to leave.
“Lady Davina stays,” Baird suddenly said as soon as he noticed Davina stand up.
Her father turned sharply. “Fer what purpose?”
Baird met his gaze respectfully. “Tae hear her own mind before I lead her tae the altar.”
The words seemed to give even her father pause, as her own heart was beating wildly at the thought of remaining alone with this man who had just saved her life, the same man who was about to become her husband.
Her father’s eyes narrowed. “She has already given her word?—”
“She gave it tae me braither,” Baird reminded him. “I’ll nae bind her twice without at least hearing her voice.”
For a moment, Davina’s father and her future husband stood at odds. Then, her father exhaled through his nose, a man conceding ground he disliked.
“Very well. A moment, and nae more.” He cast Davina a look which seemed to be part warning and part worry, before turning to follow the others out.
The heavy door closed behind him, leaving Davina and Baird alone in the dim study. For the first time that evening, Davina truly looked at him. The firelight carved the sharp lines of his face and she could see it all: the strong jaw, the dark sweep of his hair, the storm-gray eyes that caught the light and seemed to hold it.
He was nothing like Malcolm. There was no charm in him, no practiced gentleness, only quiet strength and a shadow of the grief he was feeling that made him all the more striking.
Her heart gave an unfamiliar flutter. It startled her as much as the thought that followed: that man would be her husband.
“Ye mean tae go through with this?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Baird turned toward her fully then. “I dae.”
She swallowed, her fingers tightening in her lap. “Even after what’s happened? Even after yer braither?—”
“Aye.” His jaw flexed, and a flicker of pain crossed his face before vanishing. “Because what’s happened changes naething about duty. If anythin’, it makes it heavier.”
Davina studied him, searching for something beyond the hard calm of his words. She wanted to find anything human enough to match the turmoil in her chest. But there was only steadiness, carved deep into him like the stone of the castle itself.
“And what of choice?” she asked softly. “Dae we have any left?”
Baird’s eyes lingered on hers for a long moment, unreadable but not unkind. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost gentle. “Perhaps nae, but we still have honor. And that, Lady Davina, is the only thing either of us can keep.”
Her breath caught, not from fear this time, but from the quiet conviction in his voice. Beneath all his restraint, she sensed something fierce, something that could steady her even as the world crumbled.
He nodded toward the door. “Come. It’s time.”
