Page 65 of Highlander's Battle of Hearts

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Aindreas

Aindreas led Laird Cambel through the dark corridors of the castle. He clenched his fists at his side to keep from fidgeting. He needed to tell the laird the marriage was off, that they could seal their alliance another way, yet the words remained imprisoned inside his throat. His step slowed as he approached his father’s study, knowing that he would need to speak as soon as they were inside that room.

“Wait outside,” he heard Laird Cambel order his guards while Aindreas opened the door, holding it for the laird to enter through. “We shall be but a moment.”

The Cambel soldiers stood on either side of the door, making Aindreas’s insides twist in worry. He wondered why the laird had insisted on meeting so late in the evening, especially given he had been on his way home.

Laird Cambel looked around the room shrewdly, as if he was searching for spies lingering around the bookshelves and behind the chairs. The door clicked closed, and Aindreas strode briskly to his father’s desk. He stared at the chair for a moment, remembering all the times the former laird of the MacBean’s sat in it, giving orders, scolding his son, the son he had taken in.

Aindreas moistened his chapped lips and swallowed the lump in his throat. He rested his hands on the desk, flattening his palm against it as if he was touching his father’s shoulders, hoping to gain some sort of support for what he needed to do. “Laird Cambel, there is something I must—“

“The MacAlisters plan to kill ye in the next coming days, Aindreas.”

All breath left Aindreas, and he gaped at the laird. “Where did ye hear—“

“Does it matter?” Laird Cambel asked harshly. “They plan to destroy yer clan.”

“Surely, we have time.”

“Nae!” Laird Cambel shouted, slamming his fist on the desk. “Even now, they ride here to slaughter yer people and take yer lands. Ye must make haste. If ye want to be allied with the Cambels, ye must marry Sorcha in the next three days.”

Aindreas shook his head. His father had barely been in the ground for two days, and now Laird MacAlister was riding here to slit his throat. And Laird Cambel was making his demands. It was too much. He had only promised himself to Blair a few short hours ago. He couldn’t break that promise, yet he needed the Cambel’s aid.

He pressed his fingers to his temples, massaging the ache he felt coming on. “I thank ye for yer information,” he whispered, unable to speak any louder, “but, alas, I find I’m too exhausted from the day. If what ye say is right, I have at least the night to consider yer words.”

“What do ye mean, lad?” Laird Cambel stared at him incredulously as if Aindreas had suddenly sprouted a wildcat tail and ears. “What is there to consider? Yer to marry the lass anyway, or have ye forgotten yer promises already?”

“Let me consider yer words and speak with ye in the morn,” Aindreas rushed out quickly.

Laird Cambel scowled. “Yer being foolish, lad. Sitting and waiting around, just like yer father, while everyone around ye wastes on and—“

“I am no longer a lad, or do ye need some reminding, Laird Cambel?” Aindreas spat while slowly rising from his seat.

Laird Cambel’s eyes narrowed, and he took a step back, yet his mouth remained thankfully closed.

“And I may be like my father, but he was a wise man when he wanted to be. I cannot make a decision with so little rest and an important one at that.”

“Ye will marry my daughter,” said Laird Cambel while pointing a quivering finger at Aindreas.

“The details of such will be discussed in the morn. Now, Laird Cambel, I insist ye take yer leave. I’m sure there are still rooms available. I can call for the—“

“I will find my way, Laird MacBean,” Laird Cambel said with a mocking grin. “And we will meet in the morn to discuss the details of yer marriage to my daughter.”

With a tilt of his head, Laird Cambel turned and threw open the door, barking orders to his guards to follow him. Aindreas sighed, dumping his exhausted body into the chair and leaning into it. He tilted his head up, grimacing at the ceiling as if searching for all the answers to his problems within its stones.

What was he going to do?

He couldn’t marry Sorcha, not when he loved Blair. However, if he was acting laird now, he needed to think about more than his joys. He needed to think about what was best for the clan. Without the Cambels, there was no way their clan could survive such an attack. The MacAlisters were known for their brutality, for their massive strength.

The MacBeans would be no match.

He needed the Cambels.

But he needed Blair, too.

He clamped his eyes closed, imagining her emerald eyes, her porcelain skin, the way her dark hair felt like silk slipping through her fingers. He could still hear her soft moans as he pushed into her, the way she wrapped her legs around him as if she would never let him go.

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