Page 40 of Wicked Kilted Highlander

"I didnae come tae cause ye trouble," Darragh replied.

"Dinnae speak unless spoken tae," the Laird barked.

Darragh shook his head. "I dinnae think I’ll follow the rules of a man who threw me in his dungeon for saving his daughter and bringing her home safely," he said calmly, swallowing back the anger rising in his throat. It would do him no good. His instincts were screaming at him to fight, to resist the urge to let the man take the upper hand, but he knew it was useless. He was a prisoner, and besides, the man was Lara's father.

The laird regarded him stonily for a few moments but did nothing to retaliate against his disobedience.

"I have questions," he said instead, rising from his chair and coming round his desk to stand a few yards away from Darragh. "And I expect ye tae answer them honestly."

"Aye," Darragh’s tone was flat.

Harris used his boot to shove a leather armchair in Darragh’s direction.

"Sit." The laird gestured towards the seat. Darragh stared at the offered chair, feeling it might be some sort of trap. Clearly picking up on his unease, the laird smiled thinly.

"Sit," he repeated, "ye look like ye need tae rest." Darragh gingerly lowered himself into the chair, acutely aware of Harris's piercing gaze. The laird studied him closely, his expression unreadable. Darragh did his best to cover his discomfort beneath the man’s scrutiny.

What the Devil has he got planned for me?

"Lara claims that ye helped her when she was locked up," her father said finally. "Is that true?" Darragh swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Aye," he croaked.

Harris narrowed his eyes. "Why?" the laird demanded, hands behind his back.

Darragh hesitated to answer. How could he possibly explain his feelings for Lara in a way Harris would understand? Her father's eyes flashed angrily.

"Speak!" he commanded.

"Because I am an honest man, and that is what an honest man would dae," Darragh replied at last.

"An honest man," her father echoed. He began pacing the length of the study. "Ye claim tae be an honest man, and Lara tells me that ye and she have fallen in love." Harris turned back to Darragh, his gaze icy. "Tell me Darragh, how does an honest man fall in love with his enemy’s daughter?"

Darragh met Lara's father eyes defiantly. "I dinnae ken who she was when I found her, and I dinnae look at ye or yer clan as me enemy now," Darragh replied truthfully. Harris snorted derisively. "We fell in love, it wasn’t planned, and I respect her."

"An accident?" The laird scoffed. "Ye expect me tae believe that?"

"It's the truth." Darragh clenched his fists, keeping his anger at bay.

"Why should I believe ye?" The laird's face was red with anger. "Ye're a MacDonald!" He spat out the name like a curse. "Ye’re all the same."

"That's nae true," Darragh replied, his temper rising despite his efforts. "I may be a MacDonald, but I'm nae yer enemy."

"Faither, please!" A soft voice cut through the tension. Darragh's heart leaped as he saw the door had opened, and Lara was standing on the threshold.

"Lara!" He went to get up and greet her, but her father barked out a command for him to stay seated. Frustrated, Darragh knew he had to obey, but he didn’t like it. Nevertheless, relief flooded through him at the sight of her.

She was wearing a simple gown, her dark hair framing her face in soft waves. Her blue eyes met his, and he saw a mixture of emotions in their depths—worry, anger, and something he couldn't quite place.

"What's the meaning of this?" the laird asked, his voice rising. "Ye should be in your chambers, lass."

"I have come for me… husband." She stepped forward, her eyes never leaving Darragh's, who wondered if his ears were playing tricks on him.

"Yer husband?" The laird’s tone matched the look of disgust on his face. Lara lifted her chin, her gaze challenging her father.

"Aye," she replied firmly. "Me husband." Harris shook his head, his expression incredulous. Darragh almost felt sorry for the man, for he was having trouble taking it in too and was struggling not to show it.

Husband?

Darragh watched transfixed as Harris stared at his daughter, disbelief etched across his features.

Then, he turned to gaze at Lara, her unexpected claims echoing in his ears, filling him with a strange mixture of hope and fear. Husband. It was a word that should have sent him running for the hills, and yet he found himself wanting nothing more than Lara as his wife.

"This is madness," Harris muttered before rounding on Lara, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Ye will return tae your chambers at once," he declared through gritted teeth. Darragh admired her even more when she stood her ground, her expression determined.

"I shall nae move until ye agree tae release Darragh," Lara replied, and Darragh could hear the slight tremor in her voice. Ach, me lass has courage! Harris laughed humorlessly, and with hands clenched, he advanced on Darragh. Lara stepped between them, shielding Darragh from her father's fury. Harris stopped short, his gaze flickering from Lara to Darragh. Darragh could see the conflict written plainly across his face; Harris MacLean clearly loved his daughter, but Darragh knew the laird would never back down from a fight.

"Step aside, Lara," her father ordered. Lara shook her head stubbornly. Harris narrowed his eyes, the tension in the study palpable. Darragh held his breath, unsure of what Lara's father would do next. Would he strike her? If he did, then Darragh knew he would act. But eventually, Lara’s father merely exhaled sharply, his shoulders slumping in defeat. Harris looked at Darragh's, his expression grim.

"Ye have me daughter tae thank fer yer freedom," he growled begrudgingly. Darragh breathed a sigh of relief, his pulse racing. Harris turned back to Lara, his gaze softening slightly.

"Ye have me word that Darragh will nae be returned tae the dungeons. But remember, I’ll have more questions fer him later," her father told Lara sternly, upon which she flung her arms around his neck. He stiffened, his expression one of discomfort as she kissed him on both cheeks.

"Thank ye, Faither, thank ye, ye’ll nae regret it," Lara cried, stepping back, her eyes shining with happiness. Darragh, grateful for Lara’s insistence, wondered what would happen now.