Page 52 of An Allusive Love
They pushed their way into Reverend Robertson’s small crowded parlor. Nessie kept her head lowered as he’d instructed, her dark hair hiding her face. MacDunn and his skinny boy were already there. Craigg heard the end of the conversation.Damnation!The MacNaughton knew Nessie had tried to elope with the MacDunn boy.
Calum looked at the tall, lean lad. “Hamish, how old are ye?”
“Seventeen, sir.”
“Do ye love the lass?”
Hamish gave Nessie a sideways glance and nodded. “With my last breath.”
“Weel, let’s hope it doesna come to that. Nessie, do ye love him?”
“She’s too young to ken what she wants,” groused Craigg.
“I’ll hear the lass’s own words, Ross,” Calum ordered.
Nessie sniffed, picked up the edge of her voluminous apron, and wiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks. “With all my heart and soul.”
Stupid bitch!Craigg let out a low growl and knocked her on the side of her head. She stumbled, and Hamish lunged for him.The foulsome cur.Craigg stepped back, digging his nails into his daughter’s arm. Both deerhounds jumped to their feet with a snarl, teeth bared and hackles up. MacDunn wrapped his son in a bear hug, the boy kicking and throwing punches in the air.
“Touch the lass again, Craigg, and ye’ll have my fist in yer face. Ye understand?” Calum said in his kingly tone.
He grunted in reply, still scowling at his daughter for ignoring his order of silence.
Calum smiled at Nessie. “Lass, are ye with child?”
One hand rubbed the side of her head where her father had smacked her. Now the other hand instinctively cradled her belly, showing a swell under the ample material as she nodded.
“Shut yer feckin’ mouth, ye no good whore!” Ross warned.
Nessie shoved a fist in her mouth to stifle a sob.
“Weel, this isna so complicated after all, is it?” Calum crossed his arms over his chest and grinned. “Craigg, it seems ye have two choices. Ye give yer daughter consent to marry the lad so the bairn has a father, and I don’t flog ye. Or I flog ye, and tell the whole village what’s conspired here.”
“Ye’ll not tell me what to—”
“Make yer choice.”
With gritted teeth, Ross spit out, “Marry the little brogan off. She’s dead to me.”
“Fine,” said Calum in a cheery voice. “And as dowry, she’ll bring along anything her ma would have given her. As a wedding gift, ye’ll give them the sheep in the back, seeing they already have MacDunn’s lug mark. Agreed?”
“Aye,” Ross growled.
“Aye,” agreed MacDunn as cheerfully as the chief.
“Rory MacDunn, will ye take the lass in? They canna live with the Craiggs.”
“Aye.” He gave a sharp elbow to his son. “See what comes from trusting the chief? Justice.”
“And a lovely wife,” added the minister.
“And there’ll be no laying of hands on the lass before she leaves yer home. Do we have an understanding?” Calum’s eyes locked on Ross.
Craigg jerked his head in assent but looked directly at Gideon, his eyes blazing with hate. That no-good Englishman had somehow been responsible for this. He felt it in his bones. “I dinna ken why this is any of yer affair or how ye were privy to my business. But it’s not over yet.”
“Mind yerself, Ross. Ye’re lucky the MacNaughton is a generous man,” the minister said grimly. “Dinna put more strife upon yerself or yer family. Let it go.”
Calum smiled at the young couple. “We came with an invitation to MacNaughton Castle, a cèilidh to celebrate the return of my daughter, Maeve. We may as well as have a wedding while we’re at it.”
