“I say we forsake the last bout and decide right now which brides we will choose.” Shaw peered at him as if he waited for his accord but Breckin wasn’t about to let the man choose his bride.
“If I agree to this farce, how do we know the king and queen will allow us to forgo the fight? I do not wish to spar with ye even though I could take ye.” Breckin stood close enough to Shaw to assert his ability to win any bout they would undertake.
“If the king wants us to accept his terms, he will permit us to marry without the last fracas.”
Breckin grunted because, unlike Shaw, he had to go along with the king’s demand. He couldn’t afford to pay the tithe that he owed. The king promised to forgive his debt if he went along with the so-called entertainment. But he wasn’t about to deny Shaw the ability to get out of fighting in the last battle since he’d already fought in the first two fracases. “Lady Sorsha is sweet and would make a good wife.”
Shaw flinched when he named Sorsha. “Aye, she is sweet, but she was recently widowed, and lest ye forget, Lady Sorsha bore a child for her husband, my own now deceased cousin. We hope to keep thechild amongst the family. I heard that she was a willful minx who oft causes discord in the home, although I had not witnessed such when I visited the Chattans.”
“She’s a widow? Her child is a wee terror?” Breckin moaned. “Ye know that I have younger brothers who try my patience and I have enough trouble keeping them in line…” He stopped pacing and turned to him.
Shaw ceased his steps and set his fisted hands on his hips. “Mistress Eva might be willful as well, but she’s young and ye won’t have to get her with child right away. Besides, she is beautiful. Have ye ever seen such a face or such bonny hair on a woman?”
“She is comely and bedding her would not be too much of a hardship,” Breckin said and chuckled at his jest. It was her disdain for Highlanders that put him off. If he took Eva as his bride, he would need to convince her that he and his brethren were civilized and noble, a feat to be sure, since she obviously scorned the northerners.
“Mistress Eva draws every man’s eye and every woman’s ire. If ye take her, ye would be the envy of every man in Scotland and the women in your clan most envious.”
Breckin grunted at Shaw’s attempt at convincing him to agree. “She’s young enough to train to my tastes, I suppose. If ye want Sorsha, then I am not too put out to take Eva’s hand. Och, how will we sway the king and queen to accept our chosen brides?”
Shaw dipped his head as the queen approached. They turned to her and bowed slightly. Margaret walked regally toward them but did not smile and seemed intent on speaking to them.
“Your Grace,” they both greeted her at the same time.
“Lairds Mackintosh and Buchanan, I would have a word with you. As you know, there are but two brides left. Unfortunately, my dear Alexander was called away to meet with his council and the last bout is no longer necessary.”
“All is well?” Shaw asked.
“Oh, all is well. Worry not. The lords only wish to ensure Alexander’s visit to England will not put them in jeopardy. They deem he might be easily persuaded by my father to concede to matters in which the lords hold interest.”
Shaw lowered his head as she explained. “I understand ye will soon visit your family. Are ye pleased by this, Your Grace?”
“Our nation is humbly looking forward to the birth of your bairn,” Breckin said.
“I shall be gladdened to see my family. The news of Scotland’s successor will reach you within days, I am certain.” Margaret waved off the chamberlain who stood nearby. “Now, we should settle the matter of the brides. This night we will hold the weddings after the late meal and then have a bit of a celebration. Since you were amiable and conceded to my interference in the first two bouts, Mackintosh, what say you? Who do you choose?”
Breckin felt the tug of his brows when she confessed to meddling in the bouts. Only Margaret would have the bollocks to force their hands and interfere with the king’s plan. He should hold a little angst toward his queen but couldn’t. Whatever her motive, he was sure she intended to do good and not harm to any of them.
Shaw glanced at Breckin who gave a slight nod. “I choose Lady Sorsha.”
Margaret clapped her hands together and squealed. “Oh, this is marvelous. She was hoping you’d choose her. Of course, there always was something betwixt you two, was there not? Since the others have already spoken their vows, we shall commence with your weddings shortly. Make your way to the hall in a short time and I’ll have the chancellor fetched.”
“Aye, Your Grace. I’ll be off then so I might tell Sorsha the news.” Shaw bowed to her and gave a nod to Breckin before he turned and marched away.
“And you, Laird Buchanan, remember what I said. Just becauseyou are faced with a dragon does not mean you cannot appreciate her. She might have a tender heart within.”
Might?He could have laughed at the queen’s reminder. If Mistress Eva was tenderhearted, he’d be a dragon himself—which he supposed wasn’t too far off the mark. Those he’d fought against in recent months could attest to that because he had not relented in his attack or protection of clans he’d intended to defend. A warrior never backed down and he wouldn’t retreat now, even when faced with a dragon.
Breckin decided to get the telling over with. He searched the grounds for Eva Scott and saw her standing with her father near the entrance of the castle. With hastened steps, he reached her and called out, “Mistress Eva, I need to speak to ye.”
Her father nodded to her, then turned and walked away.
He was left with the woman. She eyed him suspiciously. Lord, she was lovely. How could such a beauty hold such disdain for him and his brethren? She had an unfavorable view of him and that irritated him. But why should he care what she thought of him? Did he even want her approval? Breckin hadn’t ever needed anyone’s acceptance but for some reason, he wanted it now.
“What is it you want, Laird Buchanan?”
“I spoke with the queen and she told me that the king has cancelled the last bout. Mackintosh chose Lady Sorsha for his bride and I was given…” He waited to see if she realized her fate before he’d utter the words.
“Are you saying we are to marry, Laird Buchanan?” She frowned and her shoulders sagged. Her obvious distress had to cause her bonny head to spin with the thought of being married to him. She seemed to swallow a lump of gutted emotion, but then she took a breath and sounded composed when she said, “Well, neither of us has a choice in this matter. I cannot say that I am pleased to be offered as your wife but what can I do? I suppose that I shall accept you and you must accept me. That is what you are saying, is it not?”
