“When is soon?”
“Er, let’s say a month or so.” On Heather’s birthday, he’d be happy to tell the world what had happened, but until then, he had to maintain the secret.
Her eyes went wide. “A month!”
“Or so. It’s for a very good cause.”
“Where are you off to now?” Maeve asked.
Niall grimaced. “I must present myself before the laird and give an accounting of my deeds. Like Judgement Day, but we get to experience it every day.”
His sister rolled her eyes. “Good luck to you. His temper is worse than ever. He’s been demanding news of your return practically since you left.”
“Ach, now you know why I didn’t write,” he joked. “That’s the only way I could deny him what he wanted.”
Leaving Maeve, Niall made his way to his father’s chambers. He always hated going there. He associated the room with reprimand and regular beatings, and always his father’s cruel judgements.
Thus it was almost a relief when Ian met him in the hallway, clearly hoping to talk.
“I’m supposed to speak to Father,” Niall said.
“He’s waited weeks, he’ll wait a few minutes more. Niall, are you truly married?”
Niall wanted to laugh. How many people were going to ask him that question over the next five weeks? And would he ever get the answer right? “I had a wedding at Gretna Green, and I’ve got a wife in this very castle. What else do you want me to say?”
Ian frowned. “You gave Brenna the shock of her life, you know.”
“Aye, I expect I did, and I’m sorry for it. I wouldn’t ever want to hurt Brenna, and if I could have given her some notice, I would have. But the wedding was…well, let’s say we took advantage of opportunity.”
“This lass of yours,” Ian asked, curiosity burning in his expression. “Did you find her in London? Is that why you gave us no word the whole time? You were too busy with some whirlwind courtship? My God, man, you can only have known the lass for a month at most!”
“Try a week at most.” Niall couldn’t resist revealing that gem, knowing how Ian would take it.
His brother’s reaction was gold, almost worth all the discomfort that this false marriage would engender later on. Ian’s eyes bulged out, and his jaw dropped. “A week? Did you say a week? It takes a week to get from here down to York!”
“Then I must have met her a bit north of York.”
“Did ye fall for her the moment ye laid eyes on her?” Ian demanded. (Niall always suspected his little brother of being romantic.)
“Not exactly, though we found ourselves rather attached to each other quite quickly. Heather’s an unusual girl.”
“She’d have to be, to want you.”
“Ach, look who’s talking, with yer ugly face!” Niall shoved him playfully, and Ian ducked and faked a punch.
Ian laughed, but then sobered. “He’s not going to deal well with this, you know. And what will McGlashen say?”
“McGlashen can be dealt with. And Brenna’s not going to suffer a broken heart over it.”
“Aye, that part’s true enough,” Ian murmured. “But you’ll have to soothe the old man’s ire, and that won’t be easy. Unless you secured a loan that will save the family?”
“Do I look so rich?” Niall asked, with a shrug.
“We’ll think of something. MacNairs do have a knack for survival. All the same, I’m glad you’re the one who has to deal withhimtoday."
“Aye, and what a treat it will be."
Niall continued on to his father’s chambers. He was a grown man now, but still he felt like a child in the vast, cold room. The place never seemed to change. When Niall entered, his father was sitting in a high backed chair facing the fireplace, which was blazing. Though the area around the fireplace must be uncomfortably warm, MacNair was bundled up in woolens and had a fur pulled over his knees.
