7
The next morning, Seamus arranged for Brodie and Isla to have breakfast together apart from the rest of the family. Seamus had not been able to ignore the chill that seemed to hang in the air between the two during supper, and he felt that some added time in each other’s company—without the added pressure of his presence, or his other daughters’, or the laird’s—might make them more inclined to get along.
Isla and Brodie individually nurtured that same hope. As they sat down across from each other, though, they both struggled to think of topics of discussion that would not lead to a disagreement or more bouts of uncomfortable silence.
During the first few agonizing minutes, when the only sounds at their small table were the clatter of forks against plates, it seemed as though neither would be successful in that regard.
At last, Brodie broke the silence. “Would you be inclined to ride with me again this morning?”
“Certainly,” she replied evenly. “Do you have a specific destination in mind?”
“As a matter of fact, yes! I have heard that there is a group of farmers at the edge of your lands who intend to build a watermill today. I thought we might assist them.”
Isla grimaced. “Why on Earth would we do that?”
Brodie seemed bewildered by the question. “Why would we not? Are they not your kinsmen? Is this not your land? I should think you’d want to be involved in as much of the running of it as possible!”
“But…but that’s preposterous! I’ve never built a watermill before. I wouldn’t know how! I’m sure I’d only get in the way!”
“I helped to construct one the summer before last,” he told her, “and it is easy to learn, I assure you! It will be good for them to see that the niece of their laird is working alongside them!”
“My dress!” she protested. “It will get water on it, won’t it?”
“Aye, perhaps, and a bit of mud as well,” he laughed. “But it can be cleaned and dried afterward right enough.”
“Brodie MacKenzie,” Isla said in a warning tone, “I may be obliged to marry you, but I shall not construct a watermill with you! Why, the very idea! The daughter of Seamus MacLeod, up to her knees in muck like a sow! You should be ashamed for even suggesting such a thing!”
“Fine, then,” he retorted, annoyed. “Then where might you prefer to ride?”
“To the market,” she answered without hesitation. “There are always lovely things there. Fine fabrics, candles, bracelets, and brooches…”
“So rather than get your hands dirty helping the members of your clan, you prefer to buy things you do not need?” Brodie smirked.
“That’s a rather gross oversimplification, don’t you think?” Isla sniffed haughtily. “Am I not ‘helping’ them by purchasing the wares they toil to make? And who are you to say whether I need them or not?”
He raised an eyebrow skeptically. “You do claim to ‘need’ new baubles and such on a regular basis, then?”
“Perhaps I do!” she answered hotly. “Perhaps I require such delights to distract and amuse myself whilst remaining in the same place from birth until death since it is clear that I shall never be able totravel from it!”
Brodie could scarcely believe his ears. He had hoped that the woman he would marry would have tenderness of spirit, a willingness to become personally invested in the success of her clan members, a sense of natural strength and leadership that would supplement his rule as laird. A partner, in many ways. Someone he could lean on when needed. Someone who might inspire him to be his best self.
He was trying his hardest to remain charitable in his estimation of Isla, to see the best in her. But it was being sorely tested in that moment when all he was able to perceive was a selfish and entitled girl who seemed more fixated on indulging her own silly whims than standing shoulder to shoulder with her own people.
For God’s sake, Margaret seemed to have more respect and reverence for Clan MacLeod than Isla does, he thought.And she was not even born into it!
For her part, Isla was becoming so thoroughly bored with what she deemed as sanctimonious nonsense from Brodie that she felt she might be ill. So what if she enjoyed her luxuries and comforts? Where was the harm in appreciating and acquiring things of great beauty?
Would this be her life with Brodie, then? Being unnecessarily made to feel shame any time she felt like going to the market?
What next?she wondered.Will he order me to sell the dresses and jewelry that I have already collected, in order to give them to the wives of farmers and fishermen? Would I be lectured by him daily about the supposed piety of “going without” until I live a life more meager than that of any nun?
Then she thought of her sweet Andrew, who never judged her for her appetites or interests. Indeed, he seemed to take great pleasure in seeing which objects caught her eye so that he could tell her about similar things he’d seen imported and the distant lands they had been brought from. Each time, he promised that if she married him, he would someday bring her all the treasures of the world and more. No, better—he would bring her to them so that she could peruse and select from their wonders for herself. She would smell and touch and taste the finest marvels from around the globe, and Andrew would be her partner and her guide.
The thought of being denied such a future with Andrew in favor of becoming Brodie’s bride was more than she could bear.
“Mark me, Brodie MacKenzie!” she said through clenched teeth. “If you are determined to disregard all things in life which bring your wife contentment and satisfaction, then this will be an unhappy marriage indeed!”
“Just as it will be a doomed venture if you intend to disrespect your groom and ignore the needs of your own people in favor of your own childish fancies!” he shot back. “By heaven, there must be some way for us to make this work! We have only known each other a day! Our families are depending upon us to unite our two clans! Can you not be reasonable?”
