Page 51 of Bride of the Mad Laird
The laird’s expression did not change, dashing an almost lost sliver of hope that he would change his mind. Yet, she knew – she’d always known – that as the laird, his first duty must always be to his clan.
He gazed, unmoving, as she trembled in front of him. Despite her every effort, a tear trickled down her cheek. Then another. Before many moments had passed, a veritable waterfall was pouring from her eyes.
She lifted her head and squared her shoulders, sniffing back the tears as best she could, holding her breath against a threatening sob.
“I ken I have nay role in yer life. That ye might nae spare a thought at giving me up tae the man who murdered me faither if it endangers yer people.” A sob broke free.
Her voice broke. Now there was no stemming the torrent of sobs.
He stepped forward and clasped her in his arms, holding her tight. “Hush lass. Dinnae take on so. ‘Tis all right. Ye dinnae understand.”
She sobbed against his chest, his words hardly making an impression against her heartfelt anguish.
He held her, stroking her hair, whispering all sorts of consolations. “Never mind, all will be well, dinnae be afeared, I’ll keep ye safe.”
When at last there were no sobs left, she lifted her tear-stained face.
“What did ye say?”
“I was saying that if ye were nae such an impetuous, headstrong, lass…” he turned her and held her at arm’s length looking directly into her gaze with his storm-cloud eyes. “… if ye’d had a moment’s patience to stay where ye were and listened to what was said next in our conversation, ye’d have heard different.”
She looked up at him, striving to discern if he spoke the truth.
“What more did ye say?” Another sniff. She held her head high, not liking his remonstrance one little bit. Impetuous? Headstrong?
“Ye’d have heard me say that I would decide on the words I would put tae the Council before the meeting - that nae matter what, I’d nae turn ye over tae the Laird MacDougall.”
Straightening her spine, she stood tall before him, her eyes narrowed with disbelief. “D’ye speak truth? Can I trust that ye’ll nay betray me if yer Council insists I’m nay longer welcome at Dùn Ara?
He cast her a rueful grin and shook his head. “Dinnae fear, Lyra, I will nae betray ye, but neither will I go against the wishes of me Clan.”
She tilted her head and looked at him askance. “But I dinnae follow. Is such a thing possible?”
He pulled her close and held her still, although she went to push him away.
“Aye, it is possible, because I will turn them tae me view. They’ll nae defy their laird when they hear what I propose.”
“And what is that?” Her face was against his chest and her voice came out muffled.
“Now is nae the time fer me tae speak of it. Ye must have patience and trust that I ken what I am about.” He gave a soft laugh. “Although I ken that requesting ye tae have patience may be a tall order.”
He moved to his chair by the fire, still with her wrapped in his arms.
She managed a dubious, half-smile, but when he sat and tugged her arm she went as easily as a child onto his lap.
He held her tight, and she lifted her arms and twined them around his neck.
“I’m asking ye tae put yer trust in me, lass. I ken there have been few enough ye could trust in yer life, but ye are safe here.”
Seated as she was, close enough to feel his breath in her hair, to feel the rise and fall of his chest, her heart racing, her entire body melting into his large frame, her soul told her that he was honest and true and that he was a man who stood by his word.
She made her mind up that she would believe him, no matter what he said
She gave a slight nod. “I dae believe ye will nae betray me.”
“Good.” He brushed the last of her tears from her cheek. “I kent that despite all indications tae the contrary, at the bottom ye were a sensible lass.”
She huffed at that and playfully swatted his arm. “How could ye ever think otherwise?”
