Page 24 of The Highlander's Twisted Deal
A movement in the herb gardens caught his eye. With a jolt, he realized that it was none other than Ava herself. She was bent almost double, her arms buried up to the shoulders in a bush of herbs that he didn’t recognize, and he spotted a basket full of various greens beside her feet.
“She’s an industrious lassie,” Marcus said, materializing at his side and making him jump. “She is a fine woman, dinnae mistake me. I only care for yer happiness, lad. If ye want me to tell the council to back off, I will. They want an heir so that the succession is secure, but there’s more to being a laird than that.”
Shaking himself out of his reverie, Callum flashed a quick smile at his uncle and pointedly turned back from the window. “That’s kind, Uncle, but I think Ava will make a good Lady McAdair. What does Aunt Moira think of her?”
Marcus moved back to his seat, lowering himself into it with a wince. “She remarked on her beauty. Ye ken yer aunt, she admires a woman with skill, and healers are remarkably skilled. But I can assure ye that yer aunt is of the same mind as me—we want ye to marry for love. We want ye to be happy.”
Callum averted his gaze to the ledgers again, avoiding his uncle’s eyes. “Aye, well, we cannae all be as lucky as ye are with Aunt Moira.”
Everyone knew that Marcus and Moira had a happy marriage. His uncle was a good man, remarkably gentle and astute, and Moira was known for her kindness, generosity, and hardiness. They were a well-matched couple. They only had one child—Duncan—but they loved him as much as they loved each other. Their relationship didn’t strike Callum as a particularly exciting one, but it was steady, and it ran deep.
I’ll never find that.
The lump tightened in his throat.
When he glanced up, Marcus was staring past his head, out the window.
“Yer aunt loves me deeply,” Marcus said softly, almost to himself. “Unconditional love is a rare thing to find. I dinnae ken which gods favored me so that I could have it. I am a lucky man, Callum. Dinnae think I dinnae ken it.”
“There ye have it, then,” Callum said, forcing himself to sound bright. “I’ll never love a woman like ye and Aunt Moira love each other, so there’s nay point holding me to those standards.”
Marcus’s gaze snapped back to him, suddenly bright and alert. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again when the door opened.
“Ah, I thought ye would be here,” Duncan said, letting himself in and moving over to the fireplace. He plopped down on one of the soft seats without being asked.
“Ye ought to knock before ye come into yer cousin’s study, Duncan,” Marcus chided, an uncharacteristic twinge of irritation in his voice.
“I dinnae mind,” Callum responded, getting up and moving over to his cousin. In truth, he thought he was relieved at the interruption.
His uncle’s mood had begun to sour in a strange sort of way that wasn’t anger or even a short temper, but it was making Callum feel uncomfortable.
As if there were things unsaid.
It was probably to do with his father, but Callum didn’t want to hear about his father. He knew all he needed to know, and that was enough, for now.
“What do ye think of me betrothed, then, Duncan?” Callum asked, keeping his tone light as if it didn’t matter much.
Duncan pursed his lips, considering. “I like her.”
Callum blinked. “What, is that all?”
His cousin snorted. “Do ye want me to say how beautiful she is? Do ye want me to say that I like a woman who works as a healer? Would ye like to hear that?”
No,was the somewhat uncomfortable realization. Of course, Callum wanted his cousin to like Ava.
Just not too much.
“I was speaking with her just an hour ago,” Duncan continued, oblivious to his cousin’s discomfort. “She was talking about some tea for Maither’s joints. Indian saffron and apple blossom.”
“Indian saffron?” Marcus burst out. “How am I to get me hands on that? To say nothing of the price.”
Duncan lifted a foot, inspecting the toe of one boot. Finding it unsatisfactory, he rubbed the top of his boot against the back of his other leg and inspected it again.
He did that sort of thing when he was preoccupied with something. Callum knew him well enough to realize that. If Duncan was fidgeting aimlessly with his clothes, it was a surefire sign that something was on his mind. He narrowed his eyes, and Duncan studiously avoided his gaze.
Fine, then. I’ll get it out of him later.
Callum sank back into his seat.
