Page 20 of The Runaway Bride and the Highlander
Samuel raised his hands defensively. “I ken it’s nae likely what ye’re wanting tae hear right now, my laird, but—”
“But what?” Maxwell blurted, his rage growing by the second. “My life is tae be lived for me now, is it?” he bellowed.
The men at the table winced, some of them dropping their heads so they did not need to look at him.
“It was discussed before ye departed, my laird,” James offered in a supplicatory tone.
“Ye’re right, James. It was discussed. But when I left, the difference between discussing and implementation still remained quite a distance apart. Has the meaning changed while I’ve been away?” he growled.
James shook his head and lowering his gaze, wisely decided not to say anything further.
“It was yer mother who made the decision, my laird,” Samuel said. “I’ll nae say we didnae advise her because we did. As a group, we did feel it was better for the clan. But in the end, it was Lady Macleod that made the arrangements.”
Maxwell would have liked to throw something heavy at somebody, anybody. But what would be the point? While the anger continued to boil up within him, there was nothing he could do. The arrangements had been made, and by his mother no less. If Lady MacTavish was already at the castle and the priest was on his way, Maxwell could hardly put a stop to it, but he would damn well try.
“Then I need tae speak tae my mother,” he declared.
Shortly afterward, Bram, Maxwell, and Lady Macleod found themselves in the library—this was now a family matter.
“I cannae believe ye went behind my back like that, Mother,” Maxwell said, pacing back and forth in front of the roaring fire.
His mother, Lady Catriona Macleod, had sat in a large high-backed wooden chair and watched him as he paced. Bram sat in another only a few feet away.
“What choice did ye give me, Maxwell?” she replied gently.
Maxwell could not remember a time when he had ever heard his mother’s soft-spoken voice raised, even when she had been angry at his father. She was a gentle woman with a tender way about her. From her slender figure to the softness of her skin, even in her advanced years, she was the epitome of a lady and was thus treated as such by all in the castle and surrounding lands.
“Ye disappeared for months,” she continued. “I ken ye didnae have a choice, but nor did I. The clan is vulnerable. Ye ken that yerself. The marriage is for nae other reason but the strength and alliance the union between ye and Lady MacTavish will bring.”
“The decision could have been delayed until my return,” Maxwell replied coldly.
“I couldnae have kent when that was,” she defended. “If ye were nae spotted by a messenger on the Isle of Mull, I wouldnae have kent ye were coming back so soon.”
“And what if I’d have taken longer, Mother? Ye have Lady MacTavish here waiting on me. Would ye have kept her here for more months?”
“Lady MacTavish kent the situation. She was willing tae wait if need be. I only sent for the priest when I kent ye would be here soon after. As it happens, ye’ve arrived before him.”
“Aye, well. Ye can send him back,” Maxwell retorted.
“Maxwell,” Bram said, a warning tone in his voice.
Maxwell knew he was out of order. He wouldn’t ordinarily speak to his mother in such a way, and it was only the sense of having no control over his own life that irked him so deeply. So many things had been taken from him, so many things he had been unable to stop from happening. It just felt that this was one more situation where something would happen to him, rather than him deciding it to be so. It was more than frustrating.
“Aye, all right,” Maxwell said with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, Mother.”
Lady Macleod stood from her chair and moved slowly over to Maxwell’s side. Gently rubbing her hand against his arm, she smiled up at him sadly. “I am sorry, Maxwell. I ken this isnae how ye wanted things tae be. But I was only doing what I thought was best for everyone.”
“I ken that, Mother,” Maxwell admitted resignedly. “It’s just…”
“Ye’ve nae had it easy so far, Maxwell. Leadership is difficult enough without the many challenges that have been thrown at ye. But I could nae be prouder o’ the strength o’ character ye’ve shown in dealing with them.”
It was not exactly a defeat, but nor was the conclusion a win either. He would still have to marry Lady MacTavish, if only to protect the clan. Perhaps it was better that way. Not marrying someone he loved or had any affection for would save him the same piercing heartache he had already suffered.
Laird Johnson attacking the Macleod clan was now a foregone conclusion, especially after they had rescued Skylar. They had expected him to try and attack before, but after the effort Johnson had put into finding the woman who had been hidden from him for so many years, the laird was not going to let her go without a fight.
Back in his study later, Maxwell and Bram sat alone.
“There’ll be some feast this night,” Bram said, leaning comfortably back in a chair that sat in front of Maxwell’s desk. “I cannae wait tae fill my belly. I dinnae think I’ve had a decent feed since we left the castle last.”
