CHAPTER FIVE
Reade ground his jawas he struggled with his wifely prospect, and no one in his household seemed to share his concern, which only drew his ire more.
His mother and father both saw this as a positive opportunity for Reade and for the MacDonalds. They were more concerned about the lass’s security and the hopes of finding a letter that probably didn’t exist than they were about their son and his future.Rankledwas an understatement for how he felt.
“Do ye no’ think I should be able to choose my own bride?” Reade demanded, whirling on his brother as they brushed the horses after their ride. They could have let the wee stable lad finish the job, but with many horses and only one person to do the work, it seemed prudent to come help lest the horse suffer with sores.
Plus, it gave Reade a reason to leave the keep. The farther he was from the beguiling spy, the better.
Maddock returned Reade’s ire with one of his carefree smiles as his arm swept steadily over his chestnut Highland steed. His muscles flexed against his tunic sleeves as he worked, as the horses still had their winter undercoat. Both men worked up quite a sweat.
“Reade, our lives are dictated by our lot in life. When father dies, this land and the power that comes with it shall be yours. As a second son, I might receive a small stipend and a wee bit o’land, but unless I make my own way, I shall perpetually live in your shadow. Ye dinna have choice of a wife, but ye have infinitely more choices in this life than I ever will. And what of Conall or Logan? Our younger brothers have even fewer choices than either of us. Life in service to ye or the king, at best. And I will no’ mention Adaira. Our list of choices will always far outnumber hers.”
Reade had curled his hands into fists when his brother started speaking, but as Maddock’s logic permeated his skull, he released the pressure. Why did everyone in his family have to be so well reasoned with regards to his future? Why did none see the situation his way?
“’Tis more to this than choice. What of her alliances? What if she’s a spy for the Campbells? What does that mean for me, to be wed to a spy? A traitor to the Jacobites!”
Maddock smirked at him. “I dinna believe Father would shackle ye to a spy. Ye are so thick-headed, or ye’d see that as well. He must know more about her than he’s let on, or he truly does no’ believe her to be a spy. Her dead husband, aye, but this lass?” Maddock shook his head in disbelief at the possibility.
“Ye and Father canna know that for certain.” Reade continued to pout. Maddock slapped him on the upper arm.
“At least she’s attractive enough for a wife. Ye could have been shackled with an auld crone.”
“Right now, I’d prefer a crone to this woman. How can I hold my head up if my wife is a suspected spy?”
Maddock gave Reade a knowing grin.
“Do ye no’ mean hold your cock up?” Maddock recoiled as Reade socked him in the chest. “Mayhap Father wants ye to hear her out. If anyone can extract information from another, surely ‘tis a husband from a wife.”
“What am I to do married to her, if she’s a spy?” Reade lamented again.
Maddock’s lips turned up in a side grin. “What if she’s no’? Then ye are wed to an attractive lass who will warm your bed nightly. The Lord above knows ye could use a pair of willing thighs. Ye’d put a monk to shame with how ye’ve been acting as of late.”
Reade ground his teeth and curled his fists at Maddock’s words, ready to punch his brother again for his tawdry sense of humor. Maddock knew why Reade’s focus hadn’t been on the lasses, unlike Maddock, who couldn’t walk past a lass without wanting to bed her.
“Ye are one to talk. Ye are naught more than a randy old goat, desperate to sow your seed anyplace a lass permits ye. Wait until ye are to be wed. Then we’ll see what ye’re saying.”
Maddock waved his hand at Reade and resumed brushing. “I give up. But if ye ask me, and ye did, I think ye’re tainted in your estimation of the lass. Ye are jaded, to be sure. ‘Twould behoove ye to give the lass the benefit of the doubt.”
Reade heard his brother’s words but didn’t care for them. He’d already made up his own mind about the lass, jaded or not.
Blair rested on thebed for a while, staring at the stone ceiling, trying to make sense of the curious changes in her life. So much strife in so little a time. And for what? Her husband had told her nothing, yet everyone seemed to think she had a wealth of information, enough to abscond with her for it.
