Page 124 of Bride of Ice
Feiyan had told her much had happened at Creagor in the last few days. Perhaps being a hostage had doused some of the fire from hotheaded Jenefer.
But nothing could have prepared her for Jenefer’s next words.
“Wait!” she said. “I don’t want it. I don’t want Creagor.”
Silence fell over the hall.
After the shock subsided, a heated exchange erupted between Jenefer and her mother, who was understandably infuriated by Jenefer’s dismissal of something she’d worked so hard to earn.
Hallie too was enraged by her cousin’s callous and haphazard decision. What had caused her capricious change of heart? Did the selfish lass not even consider the sacrifices that had been made on her behalf?
But while Jenefer and her mother continued their war of words, Hallie started to wonder how Jenefer’s decision would affect the rest of the negotiations. Was it possible Hallie wouldn’t have to marry Archibald Scott after all?
Her gaze slid over to Colban. He must have been thinking the same thing. After a breathless glance of desperate hope, they averted their eyes. How the issue would resolve itself remained to be seen. There was no point—and great danger—in relying on fate and the whims of a king.
Hope had leaped up in Colban’s chest like a spring lamb at Jenefer’s rejection of Creagor. Not because Morgan might be able to hold on to his legacy. But because it might mean Hallie wouldn’t be forced to wed someone else.
Still, he knew better. Spring lambs were foolish. While they frisked in oblivious delight, a conniving wolf could snatch away their hope—with the snap of its jaws in the blink of an eye.
It was unwise to hope.
Hope led to disappointment.
And no matter how much he cared for Hallie, he had to admit, when it came to kings and politics and arranged marriages, he was out of his depth.
He supposed he should have recognized that from the start. All Scots were pawns of the crown. But the closer one was to the king, the more critical the royal control of property and alliances and marriages became.
Creagor was a key border holding.
The warriors of Rivenloch were powerful weapons.
And Hallidis of Rivenloch was valuable currency.
Colban was trafficking with issues out of his realm of understanding.
And truthfully, when he thought about it, he realized he was actually freer than any of them.
No one dictated who a bastard took to wife. No one cared how many children an orphan sired. In a general sense, Colban might have to obey the king. But when it came to life choices, he answered to no one.
Instead of grieving his loss, he should be celebrating his freedom.
He didn’t know how this argument would be resolved—whether Creagor would go to Morgan by default or Laird Deirdre would insist her niece follow the king’s will to the letter.
But it didn’t matter. And the sooner he accepted that, the better.
Either way, he intended to leave Creagor.
He’d stay long enough to stand up with Morgan if he was compelled to marry Jenefer. He’d defend Morgan, if need be, from her violent temper if she went unwillingly to the altar.
But he wasn’t going to linger to endure the torture of watching Hallie exchange vows with a man she didn’t love. It would kill him.
In the end, Laird Deirdre decreed that Jenefer could not refuse the gift of Creagor. But that didn’t diminish the glacial fury that Hallie felt as she gazed upon her ungrateful cousin.
Much to her amazement, however, not a word was spoken of the price demanded by the king. Of Jenefer’s betrothal. Or her own. Indeed, it wasn’t until the clan was marching home that Hallie began to understand her mother’s strategy.
Jenefer was a stubborn lass. She resisted commands like a young ox resisting the yoke. The best way to manipulate her was to make her think an action was her own idea.
No one was allowed to reveal the fact that Jenefer had to wed Laird Morgan in order to win Creagor, because they knew she’d refuse on impulse.
