Page 5 of Married to her Kilted Enemy

“’Tis a message from the laird. He wishes tae see ye in his study at once, me lady,” Tilly explained. Maddison rose with a sigh and smoothed her skirts.

“Very well, thank ye. Tell him I’ll be down directly,” she told the maid.

“Aye, me lady,” Tilly replied, disappearing to do as bidden.

“I wonder what he wants with me,” Maddison murmured. “Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll nae be long. I see ye in a wee while.”

“Aye, all right,” Lillie told her with a smile. “I hope ye’re nae in any trouble!” she added in jest.

Maddison left the room, wondering what Diarmaid could want with her. It was most unusual to be summoned in such a manner. She hurried downstairs and along to Diarmaid’s study door. There, she stopped and knocked.

“Come in,” she heard him say. She opened the door, entering the study, and crossing the rug to his desk. He was sitting behind it with a paper in his hand, his face clouded.

“Why, whatever’s the matter, Braither,” Maddison asked, alarmed by his expression. “Ye look as though ye’ve the weight of the world on yer shoulders.” She sat down in one of the chairs opposite him, on the other side of the desk, and looked at him closely.

“That’s one way of puttin’ it,” he said, his troubled tone and expression beginning to make her feel a bit panicky. “Is it Ciarán?” she asked, immediately fearing for her twin. “Has somethin’ happened tae him?”

To her relief, Diarmaid shook his head slowly. “Nae, ’tis naethin’ tae dae with him at all,” he said, looking again at the paper in his hand as if trying to make sense of what was written there.

“Then what? Will ye nae tell me and put me out of me misery?” she begged him.

Diarmaid hesitated before he said, “I’ve received a missive. From the King himself.”

Maddison sat bolt upright in her chair. “The King?! But whatever would he be writin’ tae ye fer?” She was completely flummoxed.

“It seems that he himself has chosen a match fer ye.”

“What?! A match? Fer me? The King?” she stuttered, hardly believing her own ears. Her heart sank to her belly.

“Aye. A match he says will be beneficial fer the Highland clans involved in a troublesome clan feud.”

“What’s he interferin’ fer? He’s nae right tae dictate me life,” Maddison burst out angrily, suddenly infuriated at yet another man trying to map out her life for her, king or not.

“I couldnae agree with ye more, Sister,” Diarmaid told her, “and believe me, me and the Council have been tryin’ tae come up with a way tae get out of it fer the last two days. But there seems tae be none. I dinnae have tae tell ye that disobeying the King comes with severe consequences,” he said gravely.

Maddison felt as tense as a coiled spring about to break. How could this be happening to her? After all she had been through, now she was to be married off to some stranger to please the King? And what was all this about a clan feud? It all seemed so unfair. But she trusted Diarmaid, and if he said there was no way out, she believed him.

Knowing she had a duty to the clan as the daughter of a laird, she had always been aware that something like this could happen when she came of marriageable age. Despite her unhappiness with the situation, if the King had made a match for her, then she had no choice but to accept it. For the sake of the clan, she had to hope her husband would be someone she could at least like if not love.

Steeling herself for the answer, she sighed heavily and asked, “Who is the man I’m supposed tae wed?”

Diarmaid threw the paper on the desk and looked into her eyes.

“Odhrán Lennox.”

CHAPTER THREE

“And are ye in love with this woman?” the King asked after a long silence, during which he fixed his soft brown eyes on an already nervous Odhrán .

"I beg yer pardon, yer Majesty, but if ye dinnae mind me asking, isnae that a strange question tae ask,” Odhrán replied, forcing himself to remain calm and hoping he was not about to be thrown into a cell beneath the palace for his cheek.

“It may seem so,” the King said with a nod, to Odhrán’s relief seemingly not displeased by his observation, “but yer answer may have a bearing on me final decision in the matter.”

“Och, I see.” Odhrán hesitated a moment and straightened his stance before saying clearly, “Aye, I am in love with her.” It was the truth after all, and he figured it could only work in his favor.

To his surprise, the monarch gave a small, knowing smile and nodded. “I suspected as much. Only love could make a man like ye, a proud Highland laird, foolish enough tae come and bother his king with such a matter.” Once again, he peered unnervingly at Odhrán as if he could see into his soul. Odhrán’s heart dropped to his boots, seeing all his hopes and dreams crumble around him.

He’s nae gonnae grant his permission. He thinks I’m a fool. He thinks I’m wastin’ his time.