“I—what?” Finlay gaped at them all, wondering if he had heard his father correctly. Peggy really started smiling in earnest now.
“Did ye not think it may be so?” Duncan asked. “All of the reasons she was to marry Callum remain. Nothing has changed except for Callum himself. You have taken place as my heir; you will take it now as Kyla’s husband. I spoke with Niall this morning and he is in agreement. We shall have the wedding by the end of the month.”
Finlay’s jaw dropped. “The end of the month! Why so soon? And does Kyla know of this?”
“Her father has likely informed her,” Duncan responded. “We would like to solidify the agreement before some of the crofters have time to band together against us. I know most of our people are with us, and always will be, but there are the odd few that the MacTavish clan are beginning to convince to turn against us. Besides, we could certainly benefit from some of their advice on turning a profit.”
“Father…” Finlay finally managed, his head churning with all of the outcomes of this news. “I-I am not sure partnering with the MacTavishes is in our best interests anymore. Our own people may see this as a betrayal against them.”
“Then it will be your duty to convince them it is not so,” Duncan responded.
“Besides,” Peggy chimed in, no longer able to resist, “you love Kyla, so all you ever dreamed of will come true!”
“That is not so, Peggy,” he admonished her, his dark eyes shooting fire her way. “Kyla and I are friendly, as she is with the rest of you. Don’t say such a thing.”
“Oh Fin, we all know,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We can tell by the way you moon over her anytime she comes around, and by the sullen look that comes over your face when she barely speaks to you. Now she shall have no choice!”
Finlay stood up swiftly, his chair hitting the floor behind him from the sudden motion.
“I will never marry a woman against her will,” he said fiercely, “and I am certain Kyla MacTavish will have no wish to wed me. Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do in the stables.”
He turned on his heel and emerged outside once again, his family remaining behind him, their silence deafening.
Marry Kyla… he mused as he strode toward the stable, his fingers itching to find something to do. He could not believe what his father was proposing, although he knew Duncan was right and, in fact, Finlay should have expected it. If he removed himself from the situation, he could see the logic behind it, knew that it made sense from the clan’s point of view.
However, Kyla had made it very clear that she hardly had any interest in speaking to him, let alone marrying him. When she did take the time to speak with him, like this morning, she was quick to depart from him—though for good reason. He had been a boor to her. One thing he knew for certain—she would never agree to this, so he was not going to even entertain the idea.
He took up his tools to give Hurley a good grooming as thoughts raced through his head while he ignored the roiling emotions in his gut. He was of two minds. He saw the value in combining the clans and their practices, in order to reduce administration costs of collection of rent and managing the land. It would mean, however, that there would have to be many changes, particularly in the MacTavish way of things, as he would never take on their practices.
If he was really true to his heart… if he allowed in the dreams he had tried to suppress, he knew that to have the woman he loved as his wife was more than he had ever thought possible. To be with Kyla every day—to hear her laugh, her thoughts, her whispers, to feel her touch, to live with a woman as kind and loving as he knew she was….
He stopped the daydreams. This was not how he would be with her. If she were forced into such a marriage, the light and laughter that surrounded her would soon be diminished. If she chose him of her own accord, then so be it, but not this way.
He would not marry a woman because another dictated it to be. He had thought he had some time before he would have to think seriously on who—or if—he would marry. It had always been too difficult to think of any woman besides Kyla, however. And yet he knew he couldn’t have her either.
He still couldn’t. For he would never marry her just because she felt forced into it, for reasons outside of love or at least a mutual appreciation for one another. If she chose him…
But he knew she never would, and therefore he did not let his heart get ahead of his mind.
4
Kyla flew down the green pastured hills between the clan holdings, Cadarn’s mane mingling with her own hair as it streamed behind her in the wind. She had no destination, no purpose in mind.
All she had known was that she had needed to get away from Darfield, for a time at least. She had gone from betrothal to a man she admired but didn’t love, to freedom for a life she wished, to now marriage to a man who saw life as one great weight of responsibility.
She saw the small crofters’ cottages below in the distance, and following her instinct, she made her way down the hill toward them. Reaching them, she dismounted, walking Cadarn slowly. She had been this way before, to where some of the McDougall crofters’ abodes were somewhat clustered, with their acres of land spread out beyond, lengthening into the horizon. She had never, however, taken the chance to go inside and see the way the McDougall people really lived as opposed to the
