Page 30 of The Runaway Bride and the Highlander
“Summoned is rather a strong word, Skylar,” Maxwell replied, not taking his eyes off her for a second. “We haveaskedye here this morning, for there is some important business we must discuss. As ye can imagine, I had little choice but tae tell the council about yer powers. I have kent many o’ these men all my life, and given the desperate measures Laird Johnson has already taken, it was a subject that needed addressing.”
Skylar nodded, understanding his reasons.
“The council concluded after much debate that we couldnae simply leave things tae chance, and in their wisdom, they’ve offered a solution.”
“Which is?” Skylar asked, feeling a little more confident in herself now.
“They believe the only way tae keep ye safe and out o’ Johnson’s hands is for ye tae marry someone from the Macleod family. Ye would have protection from the clan, and Johnson couldnae claim ye if ye already belonged to another man.”
For a long moment, Skylar did not say anything at all. The plan made sense and likely, as she thought about it, was the best solution that could be concluded. And yet, she was not quite convinced. In fact, the fear began to rise that surely the Macleods would want to use her in the same way Laird Johnson planned to do.
At least ye’d be on the better side.
It was another moment before the full extent of what they were proposing fully began to sink in. She would have to marry a Macleod, a member of the clan with a certain amount of authority if the union was going to deter Johnson from trying to snatch her from the clan’s grasp. The only other man that fitted that description was Bram. A panic began to rise in her breast, making her feel as though she were suffocating even though there was plenty of air around her.
How could Maxwell agree to such a union after what had happened between them last night? Did he not care about her at all? Had she simply been a conquest for him, another woman he could discard before his actual wedding?
Skylar could not believe that. Even though she had never experienced intimate intercourse before, she was wise enough to know what she had sensed in him. He had found deep satisfaction in giving her such pleasure. He could have gone much further, but he had not. Why not, Skylar could not begin to know.
The solution would, on the one hand, save her from Laird Johnson and a terrible future that would cause pain and anguish for her fellow kinsmen. On the other, she would lose Maxwell. But then, he wasn’t really hers to lose, but in her confused and panicked state, she dismissed that point.
“And if I refuse?” she suddenly blurted, looking at Maxwell with sadness in her eyes.
“Ye will be married, Skylar,” he said with a determined tone. “This situation is too dangerous for all o’ us. With or without yer approval, ye will be wed.”
“Then ye are nae better a man than Johnson if ye force me to marry Bram against my will,” she spat. “I have had nae choices for the entirety o’ my life. I’ve watched my mother being murdered, been sent away tae hide tae keep me safe, my father has been killed for his support o’ the rebels, and now I am tae marry yer brother whether I like it or nae.”
All the men stared at her, evidently stunned at her outburst. Even Maxwell fell silent. He looked at her strangely for a long moment before taking a deep breath in and speaking once more.
“Ye’ll nae be marrying Bram, Skylar. Ye’ll be marrying me.”
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Maxwell watched her reaction intently, the tiny flicker of her eyes as they widened, the sharp intake of breath at his words, the utter shock that now silenced her as she had silenced him only moments before with her outburst. He did not know what he was really looking for, but he searched her face for some sort of sign, a clue that perhaps she might be pleased with the news or at least relieved. Yet, all he could see was astonished shock and bewilderment.
Eventually, she found her words once again. “But how is this possible?” she blurted. They were not quite the words he had hoped to hear. “Ye are betrothed tae Lady MacTavish. Ye are tae marry her as soon as the priest arrives. Was that nae what the feast was for last night? I dinnae understand.”
She was rambling, and Maxwell could hardly blame her. This had all happened so fast, and like him, she was obviously trying to make some kind of sense of it all. He could only assume that their time together last night likely confused her emotions further.
With the seriousness of what had been discussed amongst them, he had hardly managed to deduce how she felt about it now. He could only hope she had relived the pleasure and had basked in her sensuality as a woman. Had this pressing situation not arisen, Maxwell might well have assisted in reminding her of the pleasure she had experienced.
“The council decided that having ye married tae me, the laird,” he pointed to his chest, “would be better under the circumstances. With my leadership, it would have more influence and authority if Laird Johnson tried to question it. The council insisted on ruining my betrothal to Lady Fiona, and there was nothing I could do about it.”
Even now, he was uncertain of his feelings toward her, and not wishing to convey something he did not fully understand, he was determined to protect himself.
“This marriage has been forced upon me, and yet, I believe the council’s decision tae be right. This is better for the clan, nae ours alone but all Highland clans. The priest will arrive tomorrow, and it will be then that the wedding will take place.”
He waited once more for her reaction but still struggled to read her expression. The shock had not left her, but he was certain he sensed some disappointment. What she was disappointed about, however, Maxwell could not know. Perhaps it was having to get married to him; perhaps it was having to get married at all. As she had so vehemently expressed earlier, her life had not been her own for many years now, and once again, she found herself in a situation where her life and the choices in it were taken out of her hands.
It occurred to him then that Laird Johnson had plagued Skylar’s life as much as he had plagued his own. They had both lost people they loved by that bastard’s sword, and if he could take nothing else from what was about to occur, Maxwell knew they had such loss and pain in common.
“There is much tae arrange,” Caelan said. It had been the first opportunity for him to speak on the subject. “May I suggest ye go and take some time and ready yerself?” He looked at Skylar who still appeared dumbfounded.
“Aye,” she said slowly. “Aye, of course.”
Without another word, Skylar slowly pushed herself up from the chair, the wooden legs scraping against the stone floor beneath, and turning, she walked across the room and left the men alone once more.
Only when the door was securely closed behind her and some of the other council members had left did Maxwell heave a heavy sigh. “Good God!”
