Page 49 of Under the Laird’s Promise

"Partially." She traced a finger along the eastern border where Sinclair lands pressed close. "But it's more complicated than just needing a husband. MacEwan inheritance law allows fer a daughter tae inherit if she's married tae someone the Council accepts as capable of leading."

"And if ye're nae married when he dies?"

"Then inheritance passes tae the next male kin." Her finger moved tae mark several villages along that contested border. "Me faither's cousin, Donald MacEwan. He's elderly, childless, and has made nay secret he'd sell the succession tae whoever offers the most. Keir's already approached him with promises of gold and alliance."

Tavish's jaw tightened. "So Keir either marries ye directly or buys the inheritance from Donald and takes the clan by right of succession."

"Aye. Or—" She hesitated. "If Donald refuses tae recognize any sale and the succession falls intae dispute, the clan appears weak and leaderless. That's when someone like Keir could simply take what he wants by force. Contested succession is an invitation fer conquest."

"Which is why yer faither pushed fer this betrothal." Tavish's voice was grim. "Nae just tae protect ye, but tae secure the succession before he dies and everything falls intae chaos."

"Exactly." She met his gaze. "Once we're married, I inherit through ye as me husband. The succession is clear, nay room fer Donald tae sell it or fer Keir tae contest it."

Tavish's expression went dark. "That's barbaric."

"That's politics." She met his gaze across the map. "Me faither's been holding them off through sheer force of will, but his health is failing fast. Once he's gone, I have maybe a week before the Council starts making moves."

"Unless ye're already married tae someone they've accepted."

"Exactly. Which is why this betrothal needs tae be absolutely solid. Nay cracks, nay doubts, nay room fer them tae argue it's invalid or insincere."

Tavish studied the map fer a long moment, jaw working like he was chewing through implications. "What about recognition? Dae we need further formal ceremonies, witnesses, specific documentation?"

"The betrothal itself is binding once publicly announced and accepted by the laird, which me faither's already done. But the marriage would need tae happen before he dies if we want full protection. So this whole lie is just a quick fix to a temporary solution." She hesitated, then pushed forward. "After he's gone, the Council could argue any marriage is invalid without their approval. Could claim I was coerced or acting without proper authority."

"That's worse than I thought."

"Aye."

"So we're dealing with yer faither's failing health and the Council's ambition simultaneously." He looked up, expression grim. "How long daes he have?"

"Weeks. Maybe a month if we're fortunate." The admission tasted bitter. "The healers are daeing what they can, but..."

"But he's dying."

"Aye."

Silence fell between them, heavy with implications neither wanted tae voice. Maighread's throat felt tight, emotions she'd been suppressing threatening tae surface in ways that would help nothing.

"I'm sorry," Tavish said quietly. "About yer faither. I ken ye're close."

"We are." She forced the words past the lump building. "He's been everything tae me. Faither, teacher, friend. The thought of losing him… ‘tis hard enough without everything else weighing on me shoulders."

"I ken." Something shifted in Tavish's expression, going softer. "Lost me own faither five years back. Still feels raw sometimes."

The shared grief hung between them, a bridge across the map separating their bodies. Maighread wanted tae reach fer him, tae take comfort in the solid warmth she'd come tae associate with his presence. But pride and uncertainty kept her rooted in place.

Tavish broke the silence, his attention returning tae the map. "We need tae secure the border villages." His finger traced the eastern border, marking specific settlements. "These three are most at risk - farthest from the castle, closest tae Sinclair lands. They've been making noise about seeking alternate alliances, haven't they?"

She blinked, surprised he'd noticed. "Aye. How did ye⁠—"

"I've been listening. Paying attention tae what people say when they think I'm nae." He tapped the easternmost village. "They're scared. Scared of what will happen when yer faither dies, scared the Council will leave them exposed, scared Keir will offer protection ye cannae match."

"So what dae ye suggest?"

"We give them something better tae trust in. We need tae show them strength. Make it clear yer future husband will protect them same as yer father would have." His eyes met hers, something fierce burning in those blue-green depths. "I'll ensure yer right tae inherit is protected, Maighread. Whatever it takes."

The promise in his words made her chest tighten. "That's a bold claim."