“Rory, I do not care about your games,” she said firmly.
Rory sighed. “I understand, sweet sister. You know how I am, though. It is not for me to look after these people. The thought of doing so incites an urge within me to run away as fast as I can, and I don’t even have any responsibility as of yet! It would be in all of our best interests if I had some time to… enjoy myself first.”
Kyla eyed him and his impish grin. She didn’t know why, but her brother, younger than she by only one year, had always managed to talk her into doing things she didn’t want to do. She had always had a maternal instinct when it came to him, and even now, now that they were much too old for her to have to do so, she still could not help herself.
“I’ll think on it,” she said, somewhat relenting.
Rory crowed and clapped his hands together. “Wonderful! I knew ye would, Kyla. I’ll tell Father right away.”
“Do not tell him I have agreed,” she bit out, pointing a finger at him. “I will agree to one thing only—I would like to meet with Finlay. I need to talk to him before I decide on anything else. If I do this—if I marry him—I have a few rules to set out for him first. Whether he chooses to accept them is up to him, and the consequence will be marriage to me—or not.”
Rory nodded, although he no longer looked quite so sure as he had been a few moments before, which made sense. They both knew Finlay was a stubborn sort.
Kyla could make all the demands of him that she wanted—but would he ever give in to them?
5
Kyla entered the great hall of the McDougall home, Galbury Castle, with some trepidation. It was called a castle, but she had always been of the opinion that it was fairly unimpressive, though large by the standards in these parts. The main hall was long and narrow, the McDougall plaid draped across the wall, with an impressive pair of interlocking swords that had likely been worn and used to defend and protect hundreds of years before facing down all who entered these great doors.
Peggy had opened the vestibule door for her, telling her that her brothers should be returning shortly. She had bestowed upon Kyla a mischievous grin before politely trying to extract more details of her reason for being there and what she thought of this potential marriage, but Peggy would not be receiving any information from Kyla. This was between her and Finlay, and no one else.
When Kyla had returned to the house following her conversation with Rory, she had kept her word to her brother and told her father that she would meet with Finlay, although she did not commit to a marriage to the man. Her father had smiled so smugly it made her want to extract her statement just to prove that she wouldn’t do exactly as she was bid.
He had wasted no time in sending word to Duncan McDougall, and now here she was. Her heart pounded in her chest as she prepared for the conversation that could change the rest of her life. Peggy led her into the drawing room, where she now sat on a large plush, though lumpy, sofa, waiting for Finlay to arrive.
In no time he strode through the doors, carrying with him recently plucked daisies from a nearby field.
“Here,” he said, shoving them into her hands, “for you. Roderick insisted.”
“Ye know, Finlay,” she said as she raised her eyebrow, staring at the stems now sitting in her outstretched fist. “It would far better serve you sometimes if perhaps you didna say anything at all.”
“Kyla, I—”
“Finlay, let me ask you the question,” she interrupted him. “Do ye wish to marry me?”
* * *
Of course he wished to marry her. He had wanted to his entire life.
“I will always do what is best for the clan,” he replied instead, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall, studying her to determine her own reaction to this decree to them both. He couldn’t sit. Not only was it not in his nature, but there was now too much in the air between them. “Do I believe a marriage between the two clans would best serve us all? Yes. And I always do what is best for the clan. But that being said, Kyla, I will not marry a woman who isn’t interested, who is unwilling to do so. If you don’t want this, well…I understand,” as much as it pained him to admit it. “I will only marry you if this is what you truly want. Which, I must say, I highly doubt.”
Finlay had thought long and hard about the plan to marry. While he did not want a loveless marriage in which Kyla would grow to resent him and her tie to him, ultimately the sacrifice they would both make would mean a better life for so many others. He would marry her—if she agreed on her own. Not her father, not her brother. Her.
Kyla stood and began to pace the room, her arms clasped in front of her. She rubbed them together, as if trying to ward off a chill. She circled the worn woven rug, not meeting Finlay’s eye.
“My father wants this, and my brother as well,” she said, as though she could read his thoughts. “I know you treat your people with respect and they love you for it, even forgive you for your… cold demeanor.” She seemed to be thinking aloud, talking herself into this or out of this, he wasn’t entirely sure. Finally, she stopped pacing and turned to look at him, her hands folded in front of her resolutely. “I will do this for the good of our families, but only on a
