“Kyla,” Niall began after the meal of potatoes and herring had been placed on the table in front of them. The family still had a few hired hands to help around their holdings and within the house. “You know how displeased I was when I heard Callum McDougall had married another and chosen to stay in the Northwest Territories.”
“Yes, Father,” she replied. “Displeased” was one way to reference it. Niall had been livid. She recalled him taking the news in a tempered silence when Duncan had come to tell him, then raging about the great hall once Duncan had taken his leave. She had borne the brunt of his ranting, before she could handle no more of it and took Cadarn out until her father had calmed down.
“Well, fortunately for us, Duncan has returned with another offer,” he said, shoveling in a mouthful. “We both still feel our clans would prosper should we join forces. It is becoming difficult for Rory and me to run it alone, and we would benefit from the good feeling the McDougall clansman have toward their clan leaders. Duncan feels they would benefit from the business model we have in place. We would all be better served if we combine our administration efforts.”
She nodded. She had heard all of this before as reasons for the marriage between her and Callum, although she had to keep herself from rolling her eyes at his words that he and Rory ran the clan alone. Niall knew better, but he would never admit just how much she was responsible for.
“I spoke with Duncan this morning,” he continued. “Our crofters are starting to organize against us, and it would be best if we present a united front. The McDougalls are still well-liked, while we have the business ideas. Therefore, we see the way forward as unchanged. A marriage would be the best way to further ourselves. Duncan has informed me that he has determined Finlay will be the next chieftain of the McDougalls, and therefore it makes sense that you marry him instead.”
He stopped, looking up at Kyla. She could do nothing but stare back at him in astonishment, knowing her mouth hung open.
“Is that not agreeable to you?” he asked, seemingly confused.
“Absolutely not!” Kyla exclaimed, once she could find the words. Now that her father had told her of the idea, she realized she should have known that this would come to pass. A marriage uniting the clans was a marriage uniting the clans. Their fathers wouldn’t care whether it was Callum or Finlay doing so.
But to her, everything had changed.
“Finlay is… I could not… that is…”
“I do not see what the difference is. You seemed fine with marrying Callum.”
“Yes, but Callum was… pleasant,” she finally managed. “Being married to Finlay would be like marrying a storm cloud that hangs overhead, following me around. I don’t mind him now and again, but to live with him day in and out… I do not think I could stand it, Father.”
“Kyla, it’s for the good of—”
“The good of the clans. How many times have I heard that throughout my life? Well, this time I will not be the good little girl and agree to whatever you say. The answer is no. No, I will not marry Finlay.” Kyla knew she was being ridiculous. This was for the best. And yet, she just couldn’t bring herself to agree. She stood up, pushing her chair back from the table, her food nearly untouched in front of her. “I would like to help you, Father, and you know I will do much for the clan, but this… this I will not do.”
With that, she turned on her heel, whirled around and stamped her feet as she left the room, heading outdoors for air.
* * *
Finlay finally returned to Galbury Castle, grateful the day had not taken long to warm. He had done his rounds of the crofters, taking time to discuss the matters at hand with each of them. Every crofter had a home as well as a small area of land for foraging and vegetable growth, while most of the crofters shared hill land for grazing of their livestock. Many of the men also took on other work, such as fishing or kelping. It didn’t make them much, but it helped.
He thought of his earlier conversation with Kyla. The MacTavishes had decided to devote much of their land to sheep farming. It was profitable, he must admit, but the MacTavish debt was partially due to Rory’s lavish lifestyle when he visited the Lowlands, and not all together because of famine relief. The McDougalls, on the other hand, had never spent much beyond their means, although Duncan had gone into slight debt in the recent tough years.
Finlay thought of the MacTavishes opening some of their land to hunters and pleasure seekers from the south. He grimaced at the thought of outsiders traipsing the Highlands, hating the thought of them invading his beloved home. His thoughts, however, meant nothing. Those were not his lands.
Finlay entered into the hall of the castle where he found his father, his mother, Jane, his brothers, and his sister, Peggy, waiting for him. Peggy had a smug grin on her face, Roderick looked amused and Adam slightly concerned. None of that was a good sign—especially when all of their expressions were directed at him.
“Sit, son,” Duncan said, pointing to the chair in front of them all.
“What is it?” he asked, his eyes flickering among the five of them.
“Sit down, Fin, and we’ll discuss it together,” his mother said gently.
“Is Callum all right? Gregor? Has something happened—”
“No, nothing of the sort,” she responded but then bit her lip. “I suppose we best get on with it.” She looked to her husband.
“You’re to marry Kyla MacTavish,” Duncan was always one to
