“Then I shall spank her and have ye take her back to her own rooms,” Leo retorted, unsure how far he spoke in jest and how far he meant it. “Anyway, Beatrice doesnae even ken what men are yet, Tyler. If she did, she would never have dared to come here and make such a proposal as this. Nay, she willnae seek me bed, I think.”
With this final word, he dismissed Tyler and turned the knob on the nursery door. Inside, a nursery maid put a finger to her lips and gestured for him to follow her into the bedroom. Ah, Effie was still sleeping.
On the child size bed beneath its miniature brocade canopy, he could see a shape under heaped blankets and a wild mop of curly red hair, as bright as Leo remembered his own mother’s hair to be. Gazing at her soft, warm, sleeping features on the pillow gave him a feeling of supreme tenderness.
I have nay need for a male heir, as long as Effie’s heart beats.
Leo could have watched his daughter sleeping for hours, if he had not so many other responsibilities in his life. Today, there was also some important news and he was determined that Effie would hear it from him and not any second-hand servant gossip.
“Good mornin’, little one,” he whispered, bending over and kissing her forehead. “The sun has risen. It’s time to get up.”
Effie stirred and sighed in her sleep before blinking up at her father with a frown.
“But I’m still asleep, Da,” she yawned.
Leo smiled and gathered her into his arms.
“Aye, it looks like ye are, lassie. The sun is climbin', and ye are still in bed. How do ye plan to start yer day if ye’re sleepin’ right through it?”
“Maybe I’ll sleep all day today.”
Leo couldn’t help but smile at her spirit. He tried not to think about what the future held for her. Someday she would be grown and a man would come seeking her hand in marriage. Leo could imagine himself sending all suitors packing, but what if Effie herself favored some young man herself? What would he do then?
I couldnae live if Effie ever met the same fate as her mother…
He held her so close for a moment that Effie struggled away crossly.
“Yer chin itches me, Da. Ye should shave it.”
“Well, I’ll do that, lassie, but first, there’s something important I must tell ye.”
“What is it, Da?” she asked, her face full of innocent curiosity.
“I am getting' married, Effie,” Leo said simply, and waited for her reaction.
The little girl didn’t weep or scowl, but looked thoughtfully back at him.
“Who are ye marryin'? Mrs. Prinn?”
At this suggestion, Leo threw back his head and laughed hard in spite of himself.
Stout, grey-haired and widowed, Mrs. Prinn was the castle’s head cook and sixty years of age, if she was a day. Leo supposed that he had said many times in Effie’s hearing that Mr. Prinn had been a lucky man, and that he would personally chase away anyone who came courting the cook, but that was on account of Mrs. Prinn’s excellent pies rather than her personal charms.
“I am marryin' a young lady called Beatrice Whitmore. Ye will meet her later.”
“Will she be me new ma?” Effie asked in a very practical way. “What if I daenae like her?”
“She can be whatever ye want her to be,” Leo answered, not having anticipated this question but knowing he should have done. “When ye get to ken one another, ye can tell me if ye like her or not.”
“Do ye like her, Da?” pressed his daughter artlessly.
“I suppose I do,” conceded Leo with a laugh. “In me own way…”
CHAPTER SIX
“Well, that was quite the announcement,” said a smoothly handsome blond man to Beatrice as Tyler showed her to a seat at the head of the table, beside that of the laird himself.
Leo MacSween had just brought Beatrice into the council chamber, before all these senior clansmen, and casually introduced her as his wife-to-be and the future Lady MacSween. This announcement naturally caused something close to uproar as everyone exclaimed their surprise, whispered to their neighbors, or stared at Beatrice – often all three. She could not close her ears to snippets of their conversation.
