My Daring Highlander (32 page)

Keegan drew in a cooling breath,
calming the urge to draw his dirk. Did Murray care even a wee bit
about Seona’s wellbeing?

“I will take care of her and protect
her,” Keegan vowed, fighting down his own desperation. “As tanist,
I have a good income. And I… care a great deal for her.”

Murray snorted. “But you do
not have an
earl’s
income. Laird Rebbinglen has shown an interest in my
daughter.”

Keegan knew this was a lie, but rage
still burned over him. “Is that so?”

“Indeed and do not dare question me,
MacKay.”

Keegan would love naught more than to
strangle the man. “I am not questioning you,” he said firmly. “I
but ask you to reconsider my offer.”

“Nay. And that is my final answer. Off
with you now.” Murray shooed him toward the door and picked up a
paper as if he were busy.

Fury clawed its way up Keegan’s throat
and across his shoulders, urging him to take his dirk to the
bastard. But he couldn’t do that, of course. He turned and left the
room, slamming the door on the way out.

When he stormed across the great hall,
Rebbie fell into step beside him. “Come outside with me,” he
murmured.

“Gladly.” Keegan needed fresh air. He
wished one of the Murrays would punch him now. He’d love naught
better than a good fight. “Damned whoreson,” Keegan
growled.

Once they were in a deserted corner of
the barmkin, near a high stone wall, Rebbie turned to him. “What
happened?”

“He said
nay
.” Keegan drew in deep
breaths of the cool air, trying to smother his fury.

“We expected that.”

“Exactly. He claims you have shown an
interest in Lady Seona.”

Rebbie rolled his eyes. “He is a
madman. You ken I have no interest in marrying her or
anyone.”

“Aye. I knew he was lying.” Still,
being told he couldn’t marry Seona was like glimpsing paradise only
to be told he wasn’t good enough to have it. A broadsword through
the gut.

At the opposite end of the barmkin,
the gates opened and half a dozen riders entered, the horses’
hooves clomping on the gray cobblestones. The man in front was
richly dressed in the Lowland style with brown breeches, tall
leather boots, and an elaborate collar at his throat, not a stitch
of plaid on him. He wore his slicked-back blond hair in a queue and
an English style hat.

“Who the devil is that?” Rebbie
muttered. “I’ll go find out, while you cool off out here. We must
think rationally to find a solution to this problem.”

“Very well.” Keegan didn’t ken who the
newcomers were, but he had a feeling they were bad news.

***

“Wentworth.” Ambrose Murray shook
Baron Wentworth’s hand in the middle of the great hall. It had been
a couple of weeks since he’d seen the man. He might be a suitable
husband for Seona, but Murray would much prefer Rebbinglen, since
his titles were far more prestigious and he was likely wealthy as
Midas. To imagine his grandson one day being a marquess was
difficult to ignore.

“Chief Murray, good to see you again.
I have heard a rumor that your beautiful daughter, Lady Seona, has
returned home. I hope to meet her,” Wentworth said with a
mollifying smile.

“Aye, she is here. I’m pleased you
want to meet her.”

Murray noticed Laird Rebbinglen
striding across the great hall toward them. This could be damned
awkward.

“Laird Rebbinglen,” Murray said. “I’d
like for you to meet Daniel Wesley, Baron Wentworth.” He turned to
Wentworth. “And this is Robert MacInnis, the Earl of
Rebbinglen.”

“Ah, a great pleasure to meet you,
Laird Rebbinglen.” Wentworth gave a tight smile, bowed, then shook
Rebbie’s hand.

“A pleasure. I knew you must be
someone of much import given the beautiful horse you arrived on.
You must tell me where you acquired the animal.”

“Of course. ’Tis from my own stud
farm.” Wentworth grinned proudly.

Murray took the two men into the
meeting room and poured whisky while they discussed horses for a
few minutes, certainly one of his favorite topics. But then, to his
chagrin, Rebbie changed the subject.

“I came with the MacKays and the
MacKenzies to escort Lady Seona home from Durness.”

“Ah. I thank you for bringing her
home,” Wentworth said. “She may well be my future wife and I would
like to get to know her.”

Rebbie’s black brows shot up, his gaze
darting to Murray and back to Wentworth. “I see. You two are
negotiating a marriage?”

“Indeed,” Wentworth said with
enthusiasm. “I hear she is very pleasing to the eye.”

“Aye, she is lovely.” Rebbie rose.
“Well, I don’t wish to intrude further. We can discuss horses at a
later time.” He headed toward the door, but then turned back to
Murray. “’Tis fortunate you were able to find another suitor for
her. I know you’ve had a difficult time of it.” The blasted earl
then disappeared out the door.

Murray ground his teeth until they
ached. Had his chances at securing a marriage between Rebbie and
Seona just dwindled to naught?

“What did he mean?” Wentworth asked,
lifting a blond brow.

“Um… w—well,” Murray stuttered, trying
to find the right words. “I wasn’t sure you would return or that
you were truly interested in my daughter. Then Laird Rebbinglen
showed up, escorting Seona home. They seemed taken with each other
and I thought ’haps he wished to marry her. But now I’m not
certain.”

Wentworth’s face tightened
and took on a reddish cast. “Ah. So you thought maybe you could
find her a better husband than me, aye? An
earl
.”

Murray shrugged. “The man will one day
be a marquess. I’m sure you can understand my dilemma. Especially
when he is interested in my daughter.”

Wentworth narrowed his
pea-green eyes. “He did not
appear
overly interested in her. And he said you’d had a
difficult time of it. What did he mean?”

“She was supposed to marry the MacKay
chief, but he refused.”

“Why is that?”

“Apparently, he already had his eye on
another woman. ’Haps we should ask my daughter who she’d prefer to
marry,” Murray said. In truth, he had no interest in knowing whom
Seona wanted to marry, but it was a good excuse to keep Wentworth
waiting in the wings while he figured out a way to get Rebbie to
marry her. And she certainly wasn’t marrying that Keegan MacKay
nobody.

***

Just before the midday meal, a maid
came to take Seona to her father’s solar, but she was certainly not
looking forward to the meeting.

Seona had spent a few hours with Talia
the night before, talking into the wee hours. Once Seona had
returned to her own chamber, she’d found it difficult to sleep.
Besides, she wanted to see Keegan in the worst way. She replayed
the consoling memory of the night he’d come into her chamber and
they’d shared one of the pinnacle experiences of her
life.

Touching him in such a wanton, sensual
way had been amazing. She loved how generous he was, showering her
with affection. To know she’d given him the same kind of pleasure
he’d given her filled her with joy. How she loved him.

But at the moment, she had to put
Keegan from her mind and find out what her father wished to see her
about. Had her aunt broken their agreement and spilled Seona’s
secrets? She prayed that was not the case.

Her stomach clenched as she knocked on
the solar’s heavy oak door in the dim corridor of the second floor.
She hated meeting with her father for he never had good
news.

“Enter,” he called in his usual
brusque tone.

His bodyguard, standing outside,
opened the door for her and she went in. The fire in the hearth
burned brightly and late morning sunshine beamed through the
window. It should have been a warm, inviting room, but the tension
emanating off her father chilled her to the core. He stood by the
mantel, staring into the flames.

Seona curtsied. “Good morn,” she said,
trying to use the business-like voice he preferred, though inside
her, a storm brewed because he had abused Talia so violently. She
wished to confront him about it, but she knew if she did, she’d get
the same treatment. She stayed at least five paces away from him
and remained standing.

“Why did you lie to me?” He turned to
her, his face a mottled red.

Seona was stunned speechless for a
moment. “What do you—?”

“You are as sneaky and manipulative as
your mother was!”

Angry tears pricked Seona’s eyes. Her
dear mother was the best of women, not a manipulative bone in her
body.

“Chief MacKay was not betrothed to
Isobel MacKenzie when he arrived in Durness. Patience told me the
truth of it, after I pressed her. Lady Isobel was in fact betrothed
to another man when she started warming MacKay’s bed.”

Blast!
How could her aunt do this? Had she also told her father about
her and Keegan? Nay, she couldn’t have or her father would’ve
brought that up first and been even more enraged.

“What say you?” her father
asked.

Well, what could she say but the
truth? “Dirk MacKay was in love with Isobel. He refused to consider
marrying me.”

Her father watched her with a dark,
narrow-eyed glare for a long moment. “’Tis about time you told the
truth. I want no more lies from you, lassie. Do you
understand?”

“Aye.” Though she would lie again, if
she had to, in order to protect Keegan.

“Forget the damned MacKays. I’ve found
someone else willing to marry you. Laird Wentworth is a baron who
holds a large estate south of here.”

Although this was not news to Seona,
her stomach pained her even more.

“He is here and wishes to meet
you.”

Her heart rate tripled.
“Now?”

“Aye. Now.” Her father strode to the
door, opened it, and told one of his bodyguards to go fetch
Wentworth from the great hall.

Oh dear God in
Heaven
… What could she do now? She had
never dreaded anything so profoundly in her life. She had thought
Keegan was going to ask her father for her hand. Since he hadn’t
mentioned it, maybe Keegan hadn’t talked with him yet. Although she
truly doubted he would allow her to marry Keegan, she had to hold
onto that hope.

Minutes later, a man, richly-dressed
in the Lowland style, entered the room. He was of average height
and wore his blondish hair in a queue. His muddy green eyes lit on
her briefly before he gave her father a deep bow. “Laird
Murray.”

“Wentworth, this is my daughter, Lady
Seona.”

“My lady.” The gentleman gave another
bow and moved toward her. “’Tis a great honor to finally meet you.
Your father has told me much about you.”

“Laird Wentworth.” She curtsied
briefly. After a couple of fleeting moments of uncomfortable eye
contact with him, she much preferred to stare at the floor, at her
father, or at Wentworth’s elaborate collar and silken neck cloth
rather than at his face. His sly grin, crooked teeth, and the
devious, almost lustful, gleam in his eye gave her a feeling of
nausea. Her father would hand her off to the worst outlaw if the
man had a title and land.

Wentworth was talking, but she
couldn’t focus on his words—something about his holdings in
Perthshire and his horses.

Thankfully, her father cut off his
speech by opening the door. “’Haps you two can get to know each
other at supper, then dance afterwards.”

“I would like that very much.”
Wentworth bowed again and exited.

Her father closed the door, then
snorted as he paced back to his chair by the hearth. He was acting
strangely. Did he truly want her to marry Wentworth? It didn’t seem
so. She waited to see what he would say next.

He sat down and gazed into the fire
for a long moment. “What do you think of Laird Rebbinglen?” he
asked.

Seona was startled at this abrupt
change in topic. “Rebbinglen?”

“Aye, Rebbie, as he is known to his
friends.”

What was her father about? “He is a
kind and noble gentleman.”

A spark entered his eye. “He is an
earl, you ken.”

Oh Heavens.
Nay.
He could not be
thinking what she feared he was thinking. She pressed her eyes
closed.

“Did you hear me, Seona?”

She met his wily gaze. “Aye,
Father.”

“And why have you not been making doe
eyes at him or whatever it is that makes a man fall for a
woman?”

Seona’s face heated and her tongue
seemed a leaden weight. Her father had never suggested she flirt
with a man before.

“He would make a perfect husband for
you, Seona! Do you not see that?” He grinned, and she was stunned.
Her father never grinned, unless it was a sneer.

“Nay,” she said. “I had not considered
it.”