The unexpected tenderness in his voice puzzled her, but she accepted it gratefully, happy to be spared from his usual temper. “No, we have not. Still, I would not simply leave you thus, Father.”
Seamus put his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “It means the world to me to hear ye say so, lass. Go on about yer day now, and after supper, come to my study. I would have words with ye on this matter in the hope that we may set things right.”
Isla cheerfully went about her business the rest of the day, bolstered by the brief talk with her father. Perhaps he had seen reason and would not force her to wed Brodie! Perhaps he would grant her his blessing to marry Andrew after all! True, he could be a stubborn man and given to fits of fury… but she knew that he was still her loving father in spite of all that, and Isla had been given every reason to hope for the best.
Sure enough, after supper that night, Isla went to speak with Seamus in his study. He seemed more calm and reasonable than she could ever remember seeing him before. He held a cup out to her.
“Do ye remember when ye were a wee girl, and I would share my cup of cider with ye after we dined? Just a few drops to help ye sleep?”
Isla smiled. “I do, yes. It was always my favorite time of day, sharing that small moment with you apart from my sisters. It made me feel special in your eyes.”
A tear gleamed in the corner of his eye, and he wiped it away. “Ye have always been special to me, Daughter. Ye are my firstborn, and I have only ever wanted what was best for ye. Now come, drink with yer old man again, and then listen to what I must tell ye.”
She took the cup from him and drank, the memories from her childhood spreading warmly in her stomach and through her whole body. She felt instantly comforted and safe.
“I know that ye have no wish to wed young MacKenzie,” Seamus said after several minutes of them enjoying the quiet. “However, being born into nobility often means doing things we would rather not, for the good of the clan as a whole. Unity with the MacKenzies is sure to make us stronger, Daughter. It will benefit future generations of our kinsfolk. It will grant us more resources and greater numbers against our enemies. It will usher in prosperity for us.”
Isla opened her mouth to speak, but Seamus held up a hand. “Please, lass, allow me to finish.”
She closed it again, thinking that it was just as well; she had quite forgotten what she had intended to say to him. The cider he’d given her seemed far stronger than what she’d had as a child.
Then again, as a little girl, she had only sampled a mouthful of it here and there, not an entire cup. It was surely no wonder that she was feeling lightheaded!
“All I ask,” he went on, “is that ye take one more night to consider what I have said. Think upon what it would mean to the farmers and families who have shown us such loyalty through the years. If, upon the morrow, ye remain unwilling to wed Brodie…well, then I shall not force ye to go through with it.”
“Oh, thank you, Father!” Isla threw her arms around his neck and kissed his leathery cheek. She was entirely certain that her mind would remain unchanged, and so she skipped out of his study and up the steps to her chamber—stumbling once or twice as she did so.
Good heavens, that ciderhadbeen strong! By the time she reached her room, she had to sit down on her bed immediately to keep the room from spinning.
She did not give her father’s words about her duty to her clan another thought.
Indeed, she did not have time to do so before her head hit the pillow and she was sound asleep.
In his study, Seamus poured a goblet of whiskey and told his servant to send for Brodie MacKenzie. As he waited for the lad to arrive, he produced a tiny bottle, pulled out the stopper, and deposited several drops of the solution into the drink. More, even, than he had put into his daughter’s cider.
It was a powerful soporific, one that Seamus had obtained from Morna. True, the healer had not exactly parted with it willingly.
Then again, it had hardly been the first time she had aided Seamus against her wishes, had it?
Brodie entered the room with a smile. “You sent for me, sir?”
Seamus quickly hid the bottle, handing the goblet to Brodie. “I did, lad. I apologize for disturbing you at so late an hour, but I have urgent business to discuss. Please, have a seat.”
Brodie took a seat gamely, sipping the whiskey.
“It is, perhaps, no secret that my darling daughter has shown certain reservations with regard to this marriage,” Seamus began. “However, I have spoken to her this evening, and she has agreed to go through with it.”
“That…is excellent news indeed.” Privately, Brodie was surprised. What could have prompted such a change of heart in her, given how things had transpired between them the previous day? They had not spent any additional time together since then, so he knew he had done nothing to sway her. Likewise, he doubted that she was agreeing to the marriage for the good of her clan, given how little interest she had previously shown in such matters.
So what, then, had persuaded her?
Brodie shook his head, trying to clear it. The more he attempted to focus on the question, the harder it seemed to fully understand it in the first place. Why did he suddenly feel so addled? Was his mind swimming with thoughts of Margaret?
No, it was just…swimming aimlessly.
What on Earth was wrong with him? Why could he not seem to put his thoughts in order?
“My advice to ye is to go to her chamber tonight.” Seamus’s voice seemed to be coming from a great distance away, and Brodie found that he was having an increasingly difficult time making out the man’s shape in the gloom of the study. “Let her know that I have shared the good news with ye, and tell her how happy that has made ye.”
