“Wilkie,” the laird began again. “You are aware that we are in discussions with Laird Morrison regarding your betrothal to Maisie, his third-eldest daughter.”
“Why the third-eldest?” asked Kade, with a jauntiness to his question that suggested he already knew the answer. “Has Morrison given up attempting to marry off his eldest daughter?”
“It seems she has decided to join a nunnery,” Laird Mackenzie said, sounding less than riveted by the topic.
Kade, as I was now becoming accustomed to, sounded almost amused by a subject that might have been less than amusing to anyone but him. “Aye, I suppose two or three failed attempts at marriage would be enough to convert anyone. But what of the second-eldest, then? Stella, isn’t it? Shouldn’tshebe next in line for marriage? You should be so lucky, brother. I’ve never seen her, but I believe she’s the reputed beauty of the group. I’ve heard her admired upon more than one occasion.”
Laird Mackenzie continued, “Maisie has expressed a distinct, insistent preference for Wilkie, and has commissioned her father to allowherto be the one to secure the alliance. The one named Stella has agreed to it. Laird Morrison explained in his last letter that Stella is somewhat of an introvert.Reclusive,I believe, was the word he used. She is not ambitious enough to override Maisie’s requests for Wilkie’s hand. Not only that, but I can tell you, Wilkie, that Laird Morrison is somewhat incensed that you stole Maisie’s virtue at your last visit and have not yet proposed to her. He’s most urgent, upon those grounds more than any other, tohave this betrothal secured. He mentioned her concern over... Well, in case an heir has already become part of the equation.”
“First of all,” Wilkie said, sounding highly irritated, “believe me when I say I was not the first to have touched her virtue.”
“Yet you admit you may have left her in a compromised position,” the laird said.
“She put herself into any number of positions, despite my attempts to restore her self-respect,” Wilkie replied. “In fact, I was attempting to take my leave and told her that several times, and quite emphatically, at that. She was... I won’t go into details, but suffice to say it felt more honorable in the moment to oblige her than to refuse her. Yet I made it perfectly clear to her that nothing would come of it. I made no promises. And as for an impending heir—’tis not an issue.” He sounded somewhat uncomfortable when he clarified his point. “I made very surethatwouldnotcome to pass.”
These details were distressing to me, to be sure. But it was hardly surprising that a man like Wilkie Mackenzie would be highly sought-after, in every regard. To learn that he was in fact on the very verge of being betrothed to another woman sent a cold chill through my bones, but it didn’t settle. After all, I was used to being an outsider and to having little value, to having nothing to hope for beyond my limited realm. Wilkie had introduced hope and joy and beauty into my life, and in highly concentrated form. And this tumble of beauty was so new and so fresh that it lingered—insistently—even in the face of this unwelcome information.
“Regardless,” the laird said, becoming increasingly agitated. “Her father is most interested in securingan alliance, and soon. If you don’t favor Maisie, then choose one of the others. He has no less than seven daughters and nieces to choose from. He made a point of stating that you have the choice of either of the sisters—any, in fact. Stella is less than willing, yet the laird is more interested in securing this alliance than indulging the whims of his daughters.”
Kade managed to sound entertained. “Thatwould ensure harmonious family relations between the sisters.”
“You can take your pick, Wilkie, is what he was implying. But be sure of this—youwillmarry one of the Morrisons, and I’m afraid that’s the end of it,” the laird proclaimed. “The arrangements have already begun. They arrive next week, and if Laird Morrison insists on it, the marriage will take place during their visit. This is not news to you, brother. You agreed to it some time ago.”
“In fact I never agreed to it,” Wilkie said. “I agreed toconsiderit. You, of all people, Knox, know that I have had second thoughts about marrying a woman I have no feelings for—”
“You hadfeelingsof one sort or another—” interrupted the laird.
But Wilkie countered the laird’s interruption with his own. “I didnothave feelings for her. We shared a brief moment in time. One that has now passed. Let me remind you that marriage may not be the only way to secure an alliance with the Morrison army. I have always taken your point of view to heart, brother, and followed your orders dutifully. But I am having difficulty with this one. I beg you to consider other options.”
Wilkie paused, and I got the impression there were layers of emotion at work between the brothers. Wilkie’s voice sounded heavier, more grave, when he continued. “I agreed,” he repeated, “to consider marriage to a Morrison, out of respect to you, and our father. But I am thinking of our mother when I tell you this—now it seems I have another preference.”
This was the first I’d heard any of the Mackenzies mention their mother, and though Wilkie mentioned her with fondness in his voice, I couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by this comment.
“Wilkie,” the laird continued, now somewhat exasperated but clearly affected by Wilkie’s mention of their parents. “You have the choice of any woman of noble blood in all of Scotland. Yours for the taking.” His voice was so low I could barely hear his next statement. “I’ve made allowances to speed your recovery. Take what you need of her. Do what you must. But this lass is not—”
Wilkie cut off the laird’s statement before he could finish. “Cupid’s arrow has pierced my heart.”
“That was Cupid’s sword that pierced you,” replied Kade dryly, “and you can be thankful that it missed your heart.”
The laird had heard enough, apparently. There was the sound of movement. “The decision is final, Wilkie, but if you insist, we’ll continue this discussion further when you’re fully possessed of your judgment,” he said, as though by now thoroughly convinced that his brother was still plagued by the delirium of fever. “Kade and I have a meeting to attend. We’ll leave you to your rest. And I suggest you make the most of it. We may have need to fight sooner than we thought.”
“What do you mean?” asked Wilkie, rather testily.
“The Campbell rebellion,” explained Kade. “’Tis escalating once again, and quickly.”
“I’ll come with you,” Wilkie said.
“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Kade asked. “You—”
“Aye,” Wilkie replied. “Get me a shirt.”
I could hear the sound of rustling clothing as Wilkie dressed, cursing only once from the effort. The laird said nothing further, perhaps still embroiled in his annoyance over Wilkie’s stubbornness. Their footsteps retreated as they strode down the hall to the staircase and below.
* * *
ICOLLAPSEDINTOACHAIRby the dying fire. I had much to think about. For now, I would savor the memory of each and every succulent sensation of him, and look forward to the next stolen moment.
Christie came to me, entering the antechamber quietly, as though wary of being observed. As soon as she saw me, she stopped, agog, staring for several seconds at my new presentation.
