Page 8 of Married to her Kilted Enemy

“A word? In private, Odhrán,” Diarmaid said, startling him out of his reverie.

“Of course. Let’s go tae the parlor. We can have a wee dram before the ladies are rested and ready for dinner,” Odhrán told him pleasantly, turning to exchange a glance with Liam and Tadgh as he began leading the way along the hallway to the parlor he had had especially prepared for the occasion. He had thought it best not to use his study because it would likely bring back too many unpleasant memories. It had been there that the awful confrontation had taken place, and he had ended up killing his own father. Liam and Tadgh escorted them, hard on their heels.

However, when they got to the parlor, Odhrán told the brothers, “Thanks, lads, but I’ll take it from here. I’ll see ye at dinner.” The pair winked at him behind Diarmaid’s back and marched off down the hallway.

“Please. Come in and make yerself comfortable,” he said, ushering Diarmaid into the spacious, well-lit chamber. A large fire was blazing in the hearth, sending out plenty of heat and casting an amber glow over the luxurious furnishings, family portraits, and other paintings adorning the walls. The room had hardly ever been used when his father was alive, but he was glad it could be put to good use now, for it seemed inviting. “Will ye sit by the fire?” he asked, gesturing to the pair of large chairs set opposite each other angle wise to the hearth.

“I dinnae need tae sit down fer what I have tae say,” Diarmaid said tersely.

“Very well,” Odhrán replied, sensing the tension rising between them. “Will ye at least have a dram with me?”

“I’ll have a dram, aye, but nae because I want tae drink with ye,” Kincaid said in the same slightly menacing tone, glaring at him. “But because I need it tae stop me from tearin’ ye limb from limb.” There followed a tense silence while Odhrán poured the whisky and came over to hand a glass to Diarmaid.

“And why would ye want tae dae that? Is this nae a happy occasion?” Odhrán asked finally, standing to his full height and looking Diarmaid straight in the eye, determined to stand his ground.

“Ach, ye ken very well what I mean. I’d like tae ken what game ye think ye’re playin’. I ken ye went tae see the King and, somehow, ye persuaded him tae force this marriage. What I dinnae understand is why,” Diarmaid threw down his dram in one swallow and banged his glass down on a nearby side table.

Odhrán had played out this meeting a hundred times in his mind beforehand, and he knew this was the part where he should tell Diarmaid all about his father’s will and the letter his father had left instructing Rollo to exterminate the Kincaids. He knew he should explain that the marriage was his way of protecting Maddison.

But Diarmaid’s attitude had needled him, and there was a little bit of pride inside him that stopped him from doing it.

“’Tis nae game. I was summoned by the King, and he ordered me tae marry yer sister because he was concerned about the effects of our feudin’ on the region. He wants tae put a stop tae such things it seems. So, ye see, I had nae choice in the matter.” He too swallowed his dram down and slammed his glass down next to Diarmaid’s.

The Laird of Kincaid sneered at him. “D’ye think I believe a word of yer lies? I’m nae fool. I ken what ye did. Have ye and that bastard faither of yers nae inflicted enough pain on me family? Now ye wish tae torment me sister fer the rest of her life fer yer own twisted ends? Ye’re as much a blackhearted villain as he was.”

Odhrán bristled at the injustice of that. “I’ve nae intention of “tormentin’” Maddison as ye say. I ken what happened tae her. I ken what me faither did and what sort of man he was. I was here! D’ye think I feel good about it? If ye havenae forgotten, I killed him tae save her life. I’ll care fer her and keep her safe and dae me best tae make her happy as me wife.” He stopped himself, suddenly breathless, on the verge of letting his tongue run away with him.

“Ach, hold yer wheesht, ye lyin’ dog,” Diarmaid said scornfully, dismissing his words as if they meant nothing. “I’m just tellin’ ye, from me and me braither, if any harm comes to her, ye’ll be dyin’, slowly and painfully. And if ye want forgiveness fer makin’ her suffer like this, dinnae look at us, because we’ll never forgive ye, never!”

In all his planning, Odhrán had not quite foreseen how Diarmaid’s hostility would rile him so. Once again, it struck at his pride. He squared up to Kincaid.

“As much as I understand yer concerns, I’ll first remind ye that ye’re a guest in me home, and I expect the respect due tae yer host. Second, I’m the Laird here, which also commands a certain degree of respect. Third, ’twas the king who decided on this marriage. I’m as powerless tae change things as ye are. I suggest ye dae as I have and accept the circumstances as they are.” He looked calmly and unwaveringly into Diarmaid’s eyes, his chin held high.

After a few moments of staring intently at each other, Diarmaid appeared to collect himself and relent.

“Very well. If ye say so. It seems I’ve nae choice but tae accept what ye say since I cannae exactly question the King,” he said, exhaling sharply. “Now, me and me wife would like tae stay for the ceremony. When d’ye plan tae hold it?”

Odhrán breathed an inner sigh of relief. He thought for a moment. “I havenae planned anythin’ yet. What are yer thoughts on the matter?” He was hoping Diarmaid would name a day a few days hence. In his mind, there was no time to waste. The sooner Maddison was his wife, the sooner he could ensure her safety. Besides, he told himself, it’ll please the council, and he wanted tae keep them sweet.

“I have business I’d like tae get back tae by the end of the week if possible. Me braither’s away from home at the moment, and I’ve had tae leave a deputy in charge. I ken me wife would like tae get back tae our young bairn as well,” Diarmaid replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “What about in two days’ time? Would that be too soon fer ye tae make the arrangements?”

Odhrán could hardly keep the grin of his face. “Nay, nae at all. I’ll arrange fer the minister and the piper tae be there. We can have the ceremony in the great hall in the late afternoon and have the weddin’ feast straight after,” he suggested, keeping his excitement under wraps. “D’ye think Maddison will be happy with that?”

Diarmaid gave a derisive snort. “As if ye cared about that.”

“Of course, I care. I want her tae be happy,” Odhrán insisted.

Diarmaid sighed. “Odhrán, be serious, man. Ye might be gettin’ tae marry her, but ye’ll nae force her tae be happy about it. However, ye’ve chosen yer path. I just hope tae God she can find some happiness in this life ye’ve forced on her. Maybe in time, she might grow tae tolerate ye.”

“I’ll take that as yer blessing then,” Odhrán said, too thrilled with the way things were working out for him to protest much. “Of course, ye and yer wife will be me welcome guests as long as ye wish. Now, if we’re done here, I’ll have a man show ye tae yer chambers. I’ll send a maid and a footman up tae assist ye and yer wife with anythin’ ye need. We’ll meet fer dinner a little later in the dining hall, eh? We can have a drink tae celebrate the weddin’.”

“I can hardly wait,” Diarmaid said drily. “And I’m sure me sister feels the same.”

Odhrán rang for a servant. While they waited, he felt he ought to say something a little more conciliatory to his future brother-in-law.

“Diarmaid, I ken we’ve had our differences in the past when me faither was alive. But I want tae assure ye, things are different around here now. Ye may nae think it, but I’m nae ignorant of the honor ye’re doin’ me and Clan Lennox by allowin’ the weddin’ tae go ahead. I swear tae ye on me life that I’ll dae everythin’ in me power tae make Maddison happy and keep her safe. I’d never hurt her,” he said, meaning every word.

Diarmaid looked at him closely for a moment as if gauging his sincerity. Finally, he said, “I saw ye kill yer faither right in front of me eyes tae save her life. And from what she tells me, I’ve nae doubt ye kept her alive while she was locked up. I have tae be grateful fer that, and I cannae doubt yer words. Just as long as ye dinnae forget mine.”