Page 4 of Highland Vows of Betrayal

“There is naething tae object tae in the woman, my laird,” Trevelyan noted eagerly. “She is obedient, aye, many have said so. She is meek and quiet. Ye’d have a good and dutiful wife. She comes with a wealthy dowry, and that is what yer clan needs more than anything else. I ken ye tae be a wise laird. Ye ken we need the money.”

Noah pinched the bridge of his nose, appreciating Trevelyan outwitting him; they did need the money. The clan faced ruin if the coffers were not replenished with more money. War and poor harvests had rendered them nearly destitute. They needed a way to recover, and money was a crucial means to that end.

“We can find money other ways,” Noah insisted.

“Yet this would be the fastest way. Yer brother has met her, have ye nae, sir?” Trevelyan appealed to Ian sitting at Noah’s side. “He can surely offer an opinion on the lass.”

Noah was not the only one to pay close heed to Ian’s opinion. The other councilors sat forward too, all waiting for Ian to speak. He swallowed uncertainly, his eyes meeting Noah’s.

Ach, he hates being put on the spot.

Ian preferred lightheartedness, jesting and lightening the mood. He rarely offered serious advice, so naturally, he was uncomfortable now.

“She is a beautiful woman,” Ian began, “and aye, as Trevelyan said, she is quiet and obedient. I dinnae think she would cause ye any trouble.”

Yet there was something else in Ian’s look. A muscle in his jaw twitched, revealing he could add more, though he wouldn’t speak of it now.

“If the council would abide by my wishes, I would ask them to leave. I wish tae discuss matters in private with my brother,” Noah said, waving a hand dismissively. Trevelyan bristled to be ousted like a lapdog, as did many of the other councilors, though Noah didn’t care much at the moment.

The councilors stood and shuffled out, whispering and muttering as they left, casting begrudging glances over their shoulders.

“Ye should be kinder tae them, Noah,” Ian noted. “They only wish the best for ye.”

“They wish tae control me, that is a different thing. Now, let us talk openly, brother, without their eyes watching us.”

“Drink this, brother, it will warm yer bones. Ye look cold.” Noah placed a goblet in front of Ian, filling it with mead. His brother reached for it quickly, gulping it down before leaning back and sighing contentedly.

They frequently rode across the estate together in the mornings, and that day was no exception. The cold had taken its toll on Ian, who shivered in the council chamber, trying to warm up. Noah supported him by clapping him on the shoulder.

Aye, I will always protect him. Even when he isnae aware that I do it.

“We should be talking about yer bride,” Ian said, placing a hand over his glass before Noah could top it off. He got to his feet and collected a goblet for himself, pouring some of the golden liquid before he began.

“Tell me of her,” Noah said, tired of the subject. “Ye will tell the truth better than any of the others would.”

“They arenae as bad as ye treat them,” Ian noted.

“Ye’d think as I do if ye were in my shoes. Besides, I ken how tae keep them guessing,” he winked.

Only to his brother could Noah reveal his true heart. He was pleased the council believed him to be foul-tempered, even bullish. It kept them in line, and council meetings were easier to control.

“Tell me of this lass ye went tae meet,” Noah waved, steering the conversation back to the problem at hand.

“Well, where tae begin?” Ian made his way to the castle window. Noah followed him and they stood by the stone ledge beneath leaded glass panels. “For starters, she is a beauty. In fact, I’d say she has a beauty about her that even yer mistresses couldnae match.”

“Ha! Now that is a challenge.” Noah tipped his head back, swallowing the liquid in his glass. He had his mistresses to satisfy his lusts. It was hard to imagine any woman being as beautiful as some of them. “Yet, the summary of a woman isnae in her beauty.”

“Nay, I accept that.” Ian nodded. “The lass I met for ye was kind, demure, well-spoken, too. She has the temperament ye would want in a wife, and she would be obedient tae ye, I am sure of it.”

“Obedient…” Noah toyed with the word, finding it not as much to his liking as Ian supposed it was. “Ye wish me tae marry a meek woman?”

“I didnae say she was meek!”

“Aye, but that is what she will be. I cannae imagine a duller lass than one who does everything I ask of her.” He shook his head and reached for the mead bottle, topping his glass.

“Would ye want a different woman for marriage?”

“I dinnae wish tae marry at all. I ken it is what the council wants of me, but after what we saw of our parents’ marriage…” He paused, a lump catching in his throat. “Can ye blame me for nae wanting to marry?”