Page 36 of Captured By the Cruel Highlander
Lucas, who was clearly lower in the hierarchy than the others, was sitting at the very bottom of the table, away from Adam.
At its head was Donal Barclay, the eldest member of the council and a man who had never recognized Adam’s authority. Barclay was his father’s man through and through. The only reason Adam had kept him around was because he had a formidable influence in the clan.
He was regretting that choice more every day.
His mother had followed him into the room, and he saw Barclay give her a meaningful look.
Adam scowled, walked to the table, and threw the paper in front of them all, glaring around at them accusingly. “What is the meanin’ of this?”
Barclay wore a stoic mask, completely unaffected by Adam’s raging temper. “It is a list of requests, M’Laird,” he said obsequiously.
“Dinnae play games with me, man. Why was I nae informed?”
“It is a small matter, M’Laird.”
“I’ll tell ye what is a small matter and what isnae.”
“Of course, M’Laird, but Her Ladyship and the council discussed this issue at the time of yer sister’s disappearance and did not feel that it required yer attention.”
“Well, it has me attention now, thanks to Lucas Moore, who seems to be the only one of sound mind in here.”
Adam saw the rest of the table exchange irritated glances at that, and his mother closed her eyes in despair. It was probably not the most politically sensible thing he could have said.
“Why have these farmers nae been given what they need? Some of these requests are for things as basic as food and shelter. It has been years since the agreement was made.”
“These people are from Clan MacPherson,” Barclay said, as though speaking to someone very stupid.
Adam stared at him. “Nay, they arenae, they are part of Clan MacNiall now. Me faither made a deal to bring them across to our lands.”
“But that’s nae how they’ll be treated though, is it?” came a voice from the other side of the room.
Adam looked up, astonished to see Emily standing in the doorway, listening to the proceedings with a grim expression.
“This doesnae concern ye, Lady Emily,” Moira snapped.
The entire council was looking between the three of them with barely concealed astonishment.
Adam scowled. This put him in an impossible position. He didn’t want his mother to speak to Emily in such a way, and yet he also agreed with her.
Council matters did not concern the Lady of the castle unless the Laird wasn’t present, and they certainly didn’t concern Emily before he had even married her.
Emily stepped into the room as though she had every right to be there. In fact, she looked more confident in this setting than Adam had yet seen her. It was clearly not her first time in a council chamber.
“We had a similar issue at Clan Wilkinson,” she said.
Barclay was sneering down at his paperwork, pretending not to listen to her, and Adam rapped on the table, making him jump.
“Me faither conquered some neighboring lands,” Emily continued, “but a peace treaty was brokered before the rest of the clan was absorbed into our territory. That meant that villages were split, and neighbors who had always been part of one clan were suddenly loyal to two different lairds.”
She fixed Barclay with such a withering look that Adam feared for the man’s life.
“It’s easier to ignore them and wait for them to defect than to send resources across many miles.”
Moira shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and Adam fought the urge to close his eyes in despair.
Everything made sense now. This was why the Youngs had been sent away without anyone asking him to meet with them—why their visit had been concealed. The council had hoped that the problem would solve itself.
Are these really the men I have makin’ decisions for me?
