Page 68 of The Wrong Bride
“Your bravery?” Maggie said, her voice raised to be heard.
Alasdair swung an arm around Hugh’s neck. “Did we not mention that your brother here crept into their camp alone and challenged the Buchanan tanist to single combat?”
Riona gave the appropriate womanly gasp, hoping to make Samuel smile, but his forehead only creased more.
“’Twas my place to defend ye,” Samuel said coldly. “If I’d have been there, ye wouldn’t have been so reckless.”
“I would have, old friend.” Hugh put a hand on his shoulder. “It needed to be done to save lives. We crossed swords only a few times before the rest of the Buchanans began to flee, and without support, he soon surrendered.”
“To you?” Riona looked past him. “Did you take him captive?”
“Nay, we let him return in defeat to his people,” Dermot said. “Why waste our grain on him?”
For the first time since she’d known him, Dermot’s expression was relaxed and confident, as if he was finally proud of his clan chief.
Her plan to have him stand at her side died. The truth might turn him against Hugh, just when Hugh had the support of all of his men. At last, she had to accept the realization that Hugh had become more important to her than her need to escape.
“Speaking of victory . . .” Hugh raised his arm along with his voice. “Let us begin the celebration of Clan McCallum!”
Men cheered and began to pour up the stairs to the great hall.
Maggie turned to Riona. “Should ye alert Mrs. Wallace?”
Riona put up both hands. “It’s not my place. You’re the sister of the chief and I have no official position here.”
“Ye’re the betrothed of the chief,” Hugh said, staring at her with narrowed eyes.
Maggie looked between them hesitantly. “I’ll make sure we have the best meal possible. I’m so proud of ye, Hugh!”
Maggie leaned up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, but Riona felt the weight of Hugh’s stare on her. Even Dermot and Alasdair made themselves scarce.
“Ye have no place here?” Hugh asked, his voice menacing by its very softness.
“I only meant that I am not the mistress of the household,” she said.
“But ye will be.”
She didn’t answer. Her behavior in bed had probably confirmed the future in his mind, where, for her, it had made everything worse. “Let’s not discuss this now, Hugh. This is a time to celebrate.” She’d almost ended with “being a McCallum,” but stopped herself. He would have taken that as even more proof that she’d marry him. “I should go to your mother. She was quite in fear for you. I don’t think she ate anything today.”
Hugh frowned, but then turned away when someone called his name. She hastened first toward the kitchen on the ground floor to see if they needed help, but Mrs. Wallace was in her element coordinating the household. Next, Riona visited Hugh’s mother, who stood in her room looking out at the excitement of the courtyard.
“Lady McCallum, as you can see, Hugh’s home unharmed,” Riona said as she went to the window to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the older woman.
Lady McCallum nodded, her eyes moist, but not openly crying. “Thank ye, Riona. Did they take back the cattle?”
Riona explained what had happened, then allowed a moment of silence to pass, before saying, “Surely ye’ll come down tonight and celebrate his inauguration.”
“If I do, I’ll stay out of his sight,” Lady McCallum said.
Though she sounded melodramatic, Riona didn’t get the impression that it was deliberate. “You can’t win back his good graces by avoiding him.”
Lady McCallum’s shoulders dropped with a sigh. “I cannot win them back regardless. He’ll never forgive me.”
“Forgive you for what?” Riona asked gently.
“For doing what I thought best ten years ago.”
“Is this about Agnes?”
