My Daring Highlander (31 page)

“What is that grin?” Talia
asked.

Seona hadn’t realized she was
grinning. She immediately tried to control her
expression.

“Is it a man? You met someone in
Durness and fell in love,” Talia said in an excited tone, her eyes
wide.

“Aye,” Seona admitted in a low voice,
her face burning.

Talia grabbed Seona’s hands. “Tell me
about him! What is his name?”

“You must promise to tell no one.
Lives could be in danger.”

“I promise not to tell anyone.” Talia
almost bounced upon the bench.

“Very well. His name is Keegan
MacKay,” Seona whispered. “He is the cousin of Chief MacKay and the
clan’s tanist.”

Talia grinned, her dark eyes alight
with excitement. “What is he like? Is he handsome and
kind?”

“Aye, indeed. The kindest and most
handsome man I have ever laid eyes upon. He protected me during the
journey here.”

“What does he look like?”

“He has a beautiful, charming smile,
pale blue eyes, and tawny-brown hair. He is tall and strong. A
warrior.”

“He sounds a dream! How old is
he?”

“Six-and-twenty. He has told me he
loves me.”

“Oh, Seona. I’m so happy you found
someone.” Talia hugged her.

“He asked me to marry him, but I fear
Father will not allow it.”

Talia pulled back, her expression
somber. “’Tis unfair. You must find a way to be with
him.”

“More than anything, I wish there was
a way. Keegan is tanist and next in line to be chief, but you know
as well as I that is not enough for Father.”

“He is obsessed with wealthy lairds
and chiefs.”

“Aye, and I fear when Keegan asks him
for my hand, he will insult Keegan horribly, or try to hurt
him.”

***

Unable to believe his good fortune,
Chief Ambrose Murray showed Laird Rebbinglen into his private
meeting room and they took seats near the warm hearth. During
supper, he’d learned that Rebbinglen was unmarried. To have one of
his daughters marry an earl would be more than he could’ve
imagined. He poured two small crystal glasses of whisky and gave
one to the dark-haired young man. He remembered seeing the lad when
he was around five summers. ’Twas hard to believe he was such a big
strong man now and obviously well-liked and respected.

“Slàinte.”
Murray swallowed a generous gulp of the fiery
liquid, enjoying the burn and trying to think of the most
diplomatic way to bring up this most important subject. “Laird
Rebbinglen—”

The earl held up his hand. “I’d be
pleased if you would call me Rebbie as my friends do.”

Murray smiled. ’Twas almost as if they
were family already. “I would be honored. Everyone calls me Murray,
friends and enemies alike.”

“Murray.” Rebbie lifted his glass
again.

“Rebbie,” he began again, though he
felt awkward not calling the esteemed man a more formal name. “I
thank you for bringing my daughter home and keeping her
safe.”

“Well, I—”

“Nay. I ken you will deny it, being
the good man that you are. But I’m certain my daughter felt much
safer with you than the rest of those men.”

Rebbie shrugged. “In truth, I wasn’t
the one guarding her. ’Twas Keegan MacKay who kept her safe during
the entire journey. He is the best of men, highly honorable like
his cousin, the chief. They were practically cut from the same
cloth.”

Murray waved off his humility. Besides
that, he didn’t want to hear any more about the detestable
MacKays—men who couldn’t keep their word.

“’
Haps you would like
Keegan MacKay to join us,” Rebbie suggested. “He was the one Chief
Dirk MacKay sent with a gift for you.”

“What gift?” Murray did remember a
gift being mentioned earlier. So, this Dirk MacKay sought to
mollify him for breaking the contract of his father.

“A fine stallion,” Rebbie said with
enthusiasm.

“Aye? Very good.” If the earl thought
the horse was fine, then indeed it must be. “I will look him over
on the morrow. Please send Chief MacKay my thanks.”

Rebbie gave a sincere nod. “I will do
that.”

“You were very generous to travel with
the MacKays to bring my daughter home. I’m certain you have far
more important things to do.”

Rebbie shrugged. “’Twas no trouble at
all.”

“Are you related to the MacKays,
then?” Murray had to figure out their connection.

“Chief Dirk MacKay has been a very
good friend of mine for a decade. We attended university together
and traveled on the continent.”

“Ah. I see. Well, the MacKay party was
lucky to have you leading them in the absence of their chief. I’m
certain they listened to your decisions. If not, they were
daft.”

Rebbie gave an enigmatic grin. “Well…
I thank you for your confidence in me but Keegan—”

“How could I not have? You’re an
experienced soldier, an earl, and a future marquess.” Murray near
had heart palpitations at the thought that one day his daughter
could be the wife of a marquess. And his grandson, one day a
marquess, too. But first, he must convince Rebbinglen he needed
Seona… or Talia… as his wife.

Murray gulped the last of his whisky.
“One day soon, you will want fine sons—an heir—to follow in your
exalted footsteps.”

Rebbie quirked a brow, his dark brown
eyes taking on a displeased look.

“I have two beautiful, sweet
daughters. You have met Seona and, on the morrow… or the day after,
you will meet Talia. She is eighteen summers, and just as lovely as
Seona. I am providing them both with generous dowries, including
land… not that you have need of it, of course, but ’tis always good
to have a few more acres.”

Rebbie was already shaking his head
and sitting back further in his chair. “I thank you, Murray, but
I’m not looking for a wife at present,” he said firmly.

Too firmly.

Damn. Murray shoved to his feet and
paced, then poured more whisky into their empty glasses. How could
he convince the stubborn earl? What did he want? What did he value
most?

“Well, I can understand that. You are
a young man who doesn’t want to be tied down, but it need not be
that way.” Murray forced himself to stop pacing and sit in the
cushioned chair across from Rebbie. “While I was married, ’twas
almost like I wasn’t really. I was five-and-twenty when I married
Seona’s mother, but I still dallied with the lasses everywhere I
found a willing one. And there were plenty, let me tell you.” He
grinned.

Rebbie frowned, his mouth a firm line.
“You want your daughter’s husband, whoever he may be, to be
unfaithful to her?”

Murray shrugged. “He will be whether I
approve of it or not. Aye?” He laughed. “A wife is for providing
heirs. For bed-sport, a man must look elsewhere. The buxom village
lasses are far more entertaining betwixt the sheets.”

Looking morose, Rebbie stared down
into his whisky. What was the man thinking? His dark eyes made
reading him near impossible. He was no doubt a rogue like any other
man his age, and the lasses probably chased after him, considering
how handsome he was.

“Once you married her and took her to
one of your estates, you would only need to see her once a year or
so,” Murray said.

Setting his unfinished glass aside,
Rebbie stood. “I hope you will forgive me, Murray, but I’m tired
and would like to retire for the night.”

“Och. Of course.” Murray leapt to his
feet. “Forgive me for keeping you up so late.” It wasn’t late but
he must somehow appease the earl. “Although I’m certain our guest
chamber is not up to your standards, ’tis our best one. I’ll have
one of the bonny maids take you to it.” He winked.

Rebbie gave a tight grin. “I thank you
for your generous hospitality.”

After instructing one of his guards to
find Abigail and have her escort Rebbie to his chamber, Murray
closed the door. He was a hellishly obstinate man. Murray had to
figure out what the earl desired most. Rebbie had shown no interest
in the money or land. Nay, he already had plenty of
that.

He would have to listen carefully to
what Rebbie said from now on. By hook or by crook, he would
discover a bit of leverage. Horses, perhaps. Murray had plenty of
them. Or could he somehow trick or blackmail the earl into marrying
either Seona or Talia? Had he found Seona lacking somehow? Was that
why he had no interest in her?

Talia might be a good choice, but he’d
already promised her to the Comyn. And she had to stay locked in
her room until that ugly bruise healed. How had he sired such
fragile, weak daughters? Both of them annoyed him to no end. He
wanted them both married and settled with the men he chose so he
wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore.

***

Lying in one of the four small cots,
Keegan was unable to sleep in the bedchamber that he shared with
the MacKenzies, but across the room, the brothers were snoozing
away.

Keegan could think of naught but
Seona. What would he say to her father on the morrow? How would he
convince the harsh and unyielding man of his worth? It seemed
hopeless.

But he could not fail in this. If he
did, how would he face his future without her? She had come to be
his life.

A light tap sounded at the door,
startling Keegan. He sat up. Before he could get out of bed, the
door opened and Rebbie entered, carrying a candle.

“Keegan. We must talk,” he
whispered.

“Aye, have a seat.” Keegan sat on the
edge of the bed while Rebbie took the wooden chair nearby and set
the candle on the small table. The MacKenzies continued their light
snoring.

“I talked to Murray at length,” Rebbie
said.

A sinking feeling punched into
Keegan’s gut. “Aye. And?”

“He’s trying to convince me to marry
Seona or his other daughter. He’s the most status-hungry man I have
ever encountered.”

“’
Slud.” Of course. Why had
Keegan not realized earlier that her father would be drooling over
an earl who was still a bachelor?

“He does not care one whit what kind
of man Seona marries, so long as he has a title, land, and money.
Nor does he care how her husband would treat her. He would even
encourage the man to be unfaithful.”

“Damn him.” Keegan wanted to knock the
daft old whoreson on his arse. How could he care so little for his
own flesh and blood? “’Tis as I suspected. He’s a horse’s arse and
a bastard. And he cares naught for Seona. Still… tomorrow I will
ask him for her hand.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Chief Murray.” The next morn in the
small meeting room, Keegan bowed briefly, then stood straight and
tall before Seona’s curmudgeon of a father. One of the chief’s
bodyguards waited in a corner to Keegan’s right. Did the old man
fear him?

“Aye, what is it you’re wanting?”
Chief Murray grumbled from behind his desk, barely glancing up from
his papers.

Keegan’s stomach ached, but
he drew in a deep breath and charged ahead, eager to get this over
with as quickly as possible. “I ken you are looking for a husband
for Lady Seona and I would like to offer for her hand in
marriage.”
Saints!
Had he said the right words?

Chief Murray gave a brief, humorless
laugh, his dark gaze skewering Keegan. “Are you a chief?” The man
knew good and well he wasn’t. He was but rubbing his nose in
it.

Keegan retained his composure. “Nay, I
am the tanist of Chief MacKay, which as you know, means I am second
in line to the chiefdom.”

“The chief has younger brothers, does
he not?”

“Aye, but neither will be chief. The
clan won’t allow it.”

“But one would inherit the
title of baron, aye? Not
you
, a cousin,” Murray pointed
out.

“Indeed.” Not unless something
happened to Aiden or he forfeited that title as well. And then, of
course, Keegan’s father would inherit the title first. Keegan did
not want the title, nor did he wish to be chief… unless he had no
other choice. But he had to somehow make himself look better and
more worthy before this bastard.

Murray lifted his bushy gray brows
into a snide expression. “And if the MacKay sires an heir—a son—he
will inherit. Not you.”

“’
Tis true.” And so obvious
no one needed to point it out. But Murray seemed to relish the
information.

“Then you have no title at the moment,
and will likely never have one. Do you hold lands?”

“Nay.”

“Well then, you are not good enough
for my daughter.”

Keegan had known this would be the
outcome, but his ire simmered just beneath the surface. How dare
this pompous arse think he was better than Keegan? Keegan was
grandson of a past chief and baron, well within the same social
circle as Murray and Lady Seona.