Page 97 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander
Kian stepped forward, the movement pulling at his stitches. His voice came low and sharp. “So ye doubt me.”
“We need assurance. The council only seeks?—”
Ye think bleedin’ makes me weak? I bled for this clan. I nearly died for it. And if any man in this chamber thinks he can do better, then rise now and take the mantle, though ken that I willnae give it up without a fight.”
Silence fell like a hammer. No man moved.
Leighton stayed by the door, silent, but the fire in his eyes mirrored Kian’s.
Kian glared at them all. “I stared death in the face and didnae blink. A blade in me gut didnae stop me then, and it’ll nae stop me now. D’ye truly believe feedin’ this clan is a burden I bear lightly?”
Paul hesitated, then cleared his throat. “We meant nay offense, Me Laird. But desperation led to rash action. Abductin’ a woman hasnae secured the trade deal ye?—”
“I did what I had to do. I begged for talks. I sent envoys, I offered fair trade deals. They slammed the door in me face! So aye, I took a gamble.”
Another councilman, Malcolm, stepped forward. “Still, there are whispers. Folks say that the lass has softened ye.”
Kian’s lips curled into a snarl. “Abigail’s nae a weakness.”
The men shifted, unsure.
Paul folded his hands in front of him, a bit less sure of himself now. “We didnae ken the whole of it.”
Kian took a breath, quelling the anger that surged like a storm. “Then let me make it plain. We either stand together, or we fall apart. I’ll nae have me councilmen wringin’ their hands like old wives.”
Paul bowed his head. “Aye, Me Laird. Ye’ve spoken plainly.”
Kian turned to the rest. “Any other man want to question me? Speak now.”
No one answered.
They sat down slowly, their heads bowed and their mouths shut. Even Malcolm, who had dared to challenge him, did not meet his eyes again.
Leighton stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Kian’s shoulder. “Ye said what needed to be said.”
Kian nodded, his breathing ragged. The pain in his side flared again, but he ignored it. “They needed to be reminded who leads.” He turned back to the table. “Send word to the fields. We’ll prepare the land for new seed once the trade comes. Abigail paved the way. I’ll nae waste the chance.”
Paul raised his eyes to his. “And what of Clan McEwan and Clan Reid?”
Kian turned his head to the doors as they groaned open. He narrowed his eye as Abigail stepped in, flanked by her family.
His side throbbed from standing for so long, but he straightened as much as his wound allowed. He met Abigail’s eyes, steady and calm.
“Forgive the interruption,” she said, her voice clear and strong. “I’ve brought visitors who dinnae wish to wait for the ceremony. This is me sister, Lady McEwan, and her husband, Laird McEwan.” She turned slightly toward the councilmen. “Laird McEwan has something important to say to ye all, if ye will give him the floor.”
Kian’s gaze flicked to the tall man beside her, broad-shouldered, his expression stern but not unfriendly. “Ye have the floor, Laird McEwan.”
Michael stepped forward, nodding once to the councilmen, then to Kian. He looked every inch a Highland laird, from the proud tilt of his chin to the brooch on his plaid.
“I’ll nae pretend I came here with ease in me heart,” he began, his voice gravelly. “When I first learned that Laird McKenna had taken me wife’s sister, I came ready to fight him. Ready to bleed him dry if I must. But then I heard from Abigail herself and how it’s nae what we thought it was. Today, I saw the state of the fields with me own eyes.”
He paused, sweeping his gaze across the room.
The councilmen, who moments ago doubted Kian, now leaned in, listening.
“I went to the nearby village. Saw the fields. Spoke to folk. And I realized that Laird McKenna did what he did nae out of cruelty, but out of desperation. Out of loyalty.”
Kian felt the tension in the room begin to shift. He met Michael’s eyes and gave the faintest nod.
