The Clan MacDougall Series (132 page)

“As every man here kens,” Angus finally spoke. “I do no’ trade me children like some trade their cattle or sheep. I let me children decide who ’tis they want to marry.”

Andrew Graham interjected. “But good sometimes comes from such arranged marriages.” Graham’s visit to Castle Gregor was twofold. He was here for the summit, which was a very important event. But he was also here to re-introduce his son to his betrothed. Rowan had not seen the little lass in more than twelve years. Kate Carruthers had been a wee lass of five when Andrew entered into the agreement with Douglas Carruthers, to join the clans through the marriage of their children.

“Aye,” Angus conceded though he knew that there were also times when no good came of such arrangements. He’d witnessed that first hand through his own parents’ marriage. “But ’tis neither here nor there. Bree has the right to choose who she wishes to marry.”

Though James Randolph did not necessarily agree with Angus’ view of arranged marriages, he could understand Angus’ reluctance. While he would have preferred Angus agreeing outright to his proposal, James also knew not all hope was lost. “So if yer daughter were to agree to such an arrangement, ye’d no’ be against it?” James asked for clarification sake.

Angus realized then that he’d made an error in judgment on the tenacity of James Randolph. He now found himself in a very uncomfortable position. Angus had not turned down the idea of his daughter marrying Gillon Randolph in its entirety. If he were to say as much now, James Randolph could very well walk away from the bargaining table and there would be little hope of forming an alliance. He could not allow James Randolph to see how uncomfortable the idea made him feel.

“
If
my daughter
wanted
to marry yer son, I would no’ object to it at this point,” Angus said. “However, it is my right, as her da, to say aye or nay to anyone she might choose. I would no’ allow her to marry a man who could no’ support her, or a man of questionable character, or a man of loose morals.”

James Randolph let the veiled insult pass, as he had been less than kind in his remarks about the potential for backstabbing. “Aye, a lass should expect no less from her da,” he agreed.

So the two fathers sat, each studying the other.

Caelen McDunnah and Nial McKee watched in utter dismay at the exchange that was taking place, neither believing they’d just heard Angus McKenna potentially agreeing to an odd match between James Randolph’s son and Bree McKenna.

“But I’ll no’ have any pressure put on me daughter, James Randolph. If yer son wishes to court her, and she is agreeable to such, then I’ll allow it.” Angus finally spoke.

James Randolph smiled, very much pleased with the turn of events.

“But,” Angus said, his voice firm, stern, and unyielding. “I have conditions.”

The smile slowly faded from Randolph’s face. “And what conditions would those be, Angus?”

“I want yer promise to join us. Whether or no’ me daughter is agreeable to be courted by yer son. I’ll no’ have all our fates restin’ in the hands of a lass of seven and ten,” Angus explained as he shifted in his chair. “’Tis a courtin’ I’m agreein’ to and nothin’ more. If me daughter has no interest in marryin’ yer son, then that will be the end of that and there will be no hard feelings between us. Ye’ll still sign the accord.”

James Randolph felt that no girl in her right mind would turn down an offer of either courting or marrying his son. Gillon was a handsome young man who would someday inherit the Randolph lands and title of chief of his clan. Gillon was a good catch by anyone’s standards. And if by some chance Bree McKenna turned down any offers his son would make, then it would be her loss and not Gillon’s.

James also believed that no fine, upstanding young woman who loved her clan would say no if she learned that the potential for extended peace lay in her answer. Once she learned how much was at stake, she couldn’t possibly say no.

“Aye, I’ll agree to that,” James said with a nod of his head.

“And,” Angus continued. “No one is to tell her that we had this discussion. I’ll no’ have my daughter thinkin’ that the hopes fer peace lies solely at her feet, fer that be no’ the case. The hope fer peace lies with each of us, and us alone.”

James Randolph was beginning to wonder if Angus could not read minds. Angus may have thought he had just taken away Randolph’s biggest bargaining chip, appealing to the lass’s sense of honor and duty. Angus had said no one was to tell her they had held this discussion. He said nothing about telling her about the potential for peace. While his son was a fine young man, James Randolph couldn’t be certain that his son’s good looks would alone win the girl’s affections.

“So be it then,” James finally agreed.

“So ’tis agreed then,” Seamus Lindsay asked Randolph. “Ye’ll sign the agreement, with or without Bree McKenna agreein’ to marry yer son?”

“Aye, I do so agree, Seamus.”

Seamus, Andrew, and Douglas all breathed small sighs of relief. This day had been far too long in arriving. However, neither Nial nor Caelen were pleased with the turn of events. Nial’s jaw clenched tightly while the scowl on Caelen’s face deepened. The two men remained quiet, each deciding to wait until the meeting was over to talk with Angus.

Over the course of the next hour, quill was set to parchment as Angus scratched out the peace agreement that would bring the seven clans together. Each man stood one at a time to sign his own name and in doing so, pledged on his honor to come to the aid of any of the other clans in the event of war between Scotland and England, or anyone else that would do any of them or their people harm.

Just before the sun rose in the east, the chiefs each shared a drink of fine whiskey. Peace, they prayed, would be long lasting.

N
ial McKee and Caelen McDunnah were as opposite as two men could be.

Though Nial was shorter than most, he was strong as an ox. He wore his brown hair cut close to his scalp and there seemed to always be a twinkle in his gray blue eyes. Nial was a lighthearted man, free with a smile and a bawdy joke. He preferred to use his brains and good humor as the means to an end. But should the need arise he was never afraid to use his brawn. Nial was as good on a battlefield as he was in a war room.

Caelen McDunnah was a very imposing figure. Tall, built like a wall made of stone, Caelen wore his black hair long, well past his shoulders. Unlike Nial, he did not wear his heart on his sleeve. And none who knew him could ever remember seeing a twinkle in his mud-brown eyes—unless he was about to run a sword through someone’s gut.

Caelen loved to fight. It was oft said that should he become bored or too long away from battle, he’d start an argument or disagreement for the sole purpose of using his fists or broadsword. Fighting amused him.

While the two men may have disagreed on many things, there was one topic on which they could agree: There was something
off
about Gillon Randolph. Something about the young lad, something they could not quite put their finger on, that made each of them unable to trust him. What that
something
was, neither could explain to Angus. Therefore Angus was convinced it was simple jealousy that turned their heads and made them act like fools.

The two men had done their best to convince Angus to change his mind as it pertained to Gillon Randolph courting the young, innocent Bree. As far as they were concerned, it was the first bad decision they’d ever known Angus McKenna to make. They felt as though Angus was sending Bree into the proverbial lion’s den.

“Ye act as though ye think me daughter does no’ have the good sense God gave a goat!” Angus told them, shaking his head. “Bree is a good judge of character, lads. If there is something no’ quite right about Gillon Randolph, Bree will see it.”

“But she be so young, Angus!” Nial exclaimed. “She does no’ have any experience with courtin’ or the way of men.”

Nial had known Bree for more than a decade. He had watched her grow from a wiry little girl into a bonny young lass. Aye, she was a feisty thing, so full of life, energy, and sweetness. Bree would make any man proud to call her wife. The thought of Gillon Randolph having that honor gnawed at his gut. Bree was too good for the likes of him.

“Nial, I’ll thank ye kindly to remember yer place.” Angus scowled at him, his ire growing with the man’s insistence that he had erred in his judgment.

Nial would not back down. This was far too important to leave it alone and see where things might lead. Bree was too important to him. “Aye, Angus, I do ken me place. I
am
chief of me own clan. And I have called ye friend for many a year. ’Tis why I be speakin’ me mind this day.”

Angus studied him closely for a long moment. “If we’re speakin’ blunt then, I’ll say me peace. I think yer jealous that I’d allow Bree to be courted by any man that be no’
ye
.”

Nial’s jaw twitched. “I make no secret that I be fond of yer daughter, Angus. She is a bonny lass. Aye, I would no’ mind courtin’ her meself, but ye’ve made it abundantly clear ye want no such thing. ’Tis yer right as her da. But I tell ye this, Gillon Randolph is the wrong man fer yer daughter!”

Caelen could take no more of the arguing. He had been standing silently in the corner listening to Angus and Nial go back and forth for more than half an hour.

“I think yer both as daft as the day is long.” He spoke softly as he stepped toward the table.

Anger flashed in Nial’s eyes, but only for a fleeting moment. Angus was angry as well, but he made no attempt to hide it.

Caelen turned his attention toward Nial as he walked around the table and stood near the door. “We all ken how ye feel about Bree. And no one can blame ye, fer she is a bonny lass. I still say she be a bit young fer the likes of ye, but ’tis no’ my place to decide such things.”

Nial’s jaw continued to twitch. Angus remained silent, watching Caelen with a scrutinizing glare.

“Angus, I think ye be so determined to be
right
that ye canna see nor hear what we be tryin’ to tell ye about Gillon Randolph,” Caelen said as he placed his hands on the table and leaned over to look his friend directly in the eye.

“Yer so determined to have the seven clans join in peace that yer willin’ to set aside the good advice we be givin’ ye. I tell ye this as a friend to ye and to yer wife and yer family. Ye ken that I think of Bree as a sister and ye ken well that I’ve no romantic inclinations toward yer daughter. ’Tis only Bree’s safety and happiness that concerns me.”

Caelen paused for a moment, letting Angus and Nial think over what he had said. “I ken ye trust Bree’s judgment, but I believe Nial is right. The lass has no experience in matters of the heart and she’s only kent honorable men such as ye and those of yer clan. She has no experience with men who are no’ as inclined to be kind and gentle. I warn ye this now,” Caelen stood upright, with his shoulders back. “Ye be makin’ a grave mistake in allowin’ this.”

What Caelen did not tell his good friend was that he and Nial would be watching Gillon Randolph very closely over the next days. If the lad did anything to hurt Bree, there would be no one on this earth who could stop either one of them from seeking retribution.

R
owan Graham had known for weeks that his father, and most likely his mother, would be attending the festival and games at Castle Gregor.
Knowing
it did not make things any easier.

It wasn’t that Andrew Graham was a mean man. On the contrary, Andrew Graham was one of the most noble and honorable men that Rowan had ever known. That was the problem. If you made a promise, you kept it. You put your clan first, above all else.

And if your father happened to arrange a marriage for you at the ripe old age of ten and one? Well, you swallowed your pride and accepted your fate, like a man, like a warrior, like a good Scot. No matter how homely and gangly the five-year old girl you were betrothed to might have been.

It was his mother that annoyed him to no end. Enndolynn Graham was a force of nature. Aye, she was a kind woman to most people. Where his father may have been more lenient and ready to shrug off most of Rowan’s antics as a young boy, his mother was not quite so inclined.