Page 36 of The Laird’s Sinful Claim

"An English bride, me laird. The regent saddled ye with an English bride, and we had nay warnin' of it."

The other men muttered agreement. David saw the concern on their faces, the worry. They thought that the Duke of Albany had forced his marriage. That David had been backed into a corner and had had no choice but to comply.

Which, in a way, was true. Just not the way they thought.

"The Duke didnae saddle me with anythin'," David said quietly.

Silence fell. Five pairs of eyes fixed on him.

"What?" Hamish asked slowly.

"The Duke didnae choose me wife. I did."

"But the summons⁠—"

"The summons said I was to take an English bride. So I took one." David met each man's gaze in turn. "Me choice. Me decision. The Duke had naethin' tae dae with it."

"Ye—" Hamish seemed to be struggling with words. "Ye deliberately went against the regent’s wishes?"

"I went against the regent’s attempt tae control me." David kept his voice level. Cool. "I'll nae have me marriage dictated tae me like I'm a chess piece tae be moved around the board. I've spent too much of me life followin' orders from men who thought they ken what's best fer me. I'm done with it."

"But the Duke..." one of the other councilors started.

"The Duke wanted an English bride. I gave him one. If he's upset that she's nae the specific bride he'd chosen, that's his problem, nae mine."

"His problem becomes our problem if he decides tae punish the clan fer yer defiance," Michael said bluntly.

"He'll nae punish the clan." David wished he believed that as strongly as he sounded. "Technically, I didnae disobey. I provided exactly what he asked fer."

"Through trickery and word games." Michael's expression was stern. "The Duke will nay appreciate that, me laird. He'll see it as the insult it is."

"Then he'll see it." David set down his cup with careful precision. "I'm Laird of Clan MacDonald. This is me clan, me lands, me responsibility. And I'll nae allow anyone, nae even a regent, tae dictate who I marry. Is that clear?"

The men exchanged glances. David could see the worry, the calculation. They were wondering if he'd lost his mind. If his pride would bring disaster down on them all.

"It's clear, me laird," Hamish said finally. "But if I may point out, ye're nae just a man. Ye're a laird. Yer decisions affect more than just yerself."

"I ken that." The weight of it pressed down on David's shoulders. "Why dae ye think I've spent the last five years daein' everythin' expected of me? Followin' every rule, playin' every political game, bitin' me tongue when I wanted tae tell half the nobility tae go tae hell?" He leaned forward. "I've earned the right to make one choice fer meself. And I chose her."

Hamish sighed. "Well. What's done is done. The question now is how dae we make the best of it."

"Make the best of what?" David asked warily.

"Yer marriage, me laird." Michael's tone was that of a man dealing with a particularly difficult child. "Ye've taken a wife—an English wife, nay less—one the clan has never met. If ye want them tae accept her, ye need tae make this legitimate. Public."

"It is public. I introduced her in the courtyard."

"That's nae enough." Hamish spoke up again. "Ye need tae throw a celebration. A Cèilidh, in proper Highland fashion. Let the clan meet their new lady. Let them see ye taegether. Make this marriage real in their eyes."

David started to protest, then stopped. They were right. If he wanted the clan to accept Elinor, and more importantly, if he wanted the Duke to believe their marriage was genuine, they had to present a united front. A loving couple, properly wed and publicly celebrated.

"Fine," he said. "We'll have a Cèilidh."

"And the lady will help organize it," Michael added. "It's traditional. Let the clan see what kind of lady she'll be."

"She's been travelin' fer days. She's exhausted."

"Then give her a few days tae rest first." Michael's expression softened slightly. "We're nae monsters, me laird. We just want tae make sure this marriage has the best chance of success. Fer yer sake. And fer the clan's."

David nodded slowly. "I'll speak tae her about it."

"Good." Hamish stood, the others following his lead. "If that's all, me laird, we'll leave ye tae settle in. I'm sure ye've much tae discuss with yer new wife."

They filed out, leaving David alone in the council chamber. He reached for the dram again, draining the cup in one swallow.

A Cèilidh. Public celebration. Making their false marriage look real to satisfy both clan and Regent.

He just hoped Elinor was up for it.

He stood, straightening his shoulders. Time to find his wife and tell her she was about to become the center of Highland hospitality.