Page 15 of The Icy Highlander's Bride
"Enough of this," Alexander snapped. "Ye will speak kindly to the man ye will marry."
"I willnae marry him!" Lana announced.
"Forgive me, Laird MacCrawford," he said, turning his attention back to Daniel. "Me sister is simply surprised by the speed of such a proposal."
"I am nae surprised!" Lana cried, though in truth that was exactly the problem with this situation. Everything was moving far too fast, and these men were deciding her life without her input.
The three of them stared at each other, all waiting to see where this conversation would go.
She took a deep breath and stood straighter, determined to speak from reason rather than emotion.
"Alex," she started, though her brother's brow furrowed at the familiar nickname. "Ye ken I wish to marry for love."
"I ken it is a silly fantasy," Alexander said. "One I have played along with for too long."
"But ye love Olivia, dinnae ye?"
"Aye. But convenience brought us together."
Lana realized quickly that Alexander would not be swayed. She knew him well enough to recognize the way his jaw clenched slightly when he had made up his mind. There would be no swaying him. And so she turned her attention to the other Laird in the room. She looked up at him and saw the way he pursed his lips, perhaps holding back a smile.
"Perhaps, Me Laird, if we could wait. We could spend some time getting to ken one another. Perhaps we could learn to care for one another before we wed."
She needed some time. If Alexander and Daniel were insistent on this wedding happening, then at least she could ask them to wait. A week was hardly enough time to learn Daniel's meal schedule, let alone know enough about him to fall in love with him. And Lana needed the hope that she could love this man. She needed to know that the dream she had carried with her since childhood wasn't lost.
"Ye will ken me once we are wed," Daniel told her. "But I willnae wait to have ye."
She felt that strange shiver run up her spine again. She couldn't figure out what made her body react to him like this. She was a mix of nerves and fear and a hint of attraction that she was struggling to untangle.
"A fortnight," Lana suggested, practically begging. "Surely ye can wait that long."
"Enough." Alexander was losing patience. Lana knew he felt embarrassed by her, that she was threatening his image as a man who could control his household. "If ye daenae like the man I have chosen for ye, then I can call Laird Cullen. I'm sure he will be thrilled to welcome ye into his home."
He wouldnae…
She hadn't expected this from Alexander. She had always seen her brother as a kind man who wanted what was best for her. But suddenly, she was staring back at her Laird rather than her brother. Even Alexander had to put his clan before his family sometimes, and Lana saw clearly which one he was choosing.
Laird Cullen was out of the question. The man was old enough to be her father, and if his behavior at the wedding was any indication, he loved his drink more than any wife he might acquire. If she had to choose between him and Laird MacCrawford, it was no contest.
"I understand," Lana said, though her chest felt hollow as she forced the words out of her mouth.
She wouldn't cry. She had spent too much time crying over this decision already. And she wouldn't let herself break down in front of these men. They might be deciding her fate, but she would decide how she handled herself in the face of these decisions.
"We're settled, then," Alexander uttered. He tried to catch her eye, perhaps to give her a comforting nod, but she wouldn't look at him.
"Could we have some privacy, Alex?"
She sensed her brother's hesitation at the question, but she pushed forward.
"If I'm to marry Laird MacCrawford in a week, I want to ken what to expect."
Her eyes flicked to him, a quick plea, and it was enough to convince him.
"Very well," Alexander relented. And then, as if trying to regain some control, he added, "A few minutes."
Lana heard her brother's footsteps retreat from the room. She kept her expression neutral, her eyes glued to the empty glasses of whiskey, which were leaving wet rings on the table, until she heard the door click shut. Only then did she look up at Daniel, forcing a tough and confident exterior.
"Shall we set the rules for this game we started, Me Laird?"
