Seona gave a brief curtsy and hastened down the corridor and into her room. If Fraser and the guard hadn’t been there, she might have allowed him another kiss. But that was impossible now. With regret, he turned to leave. He doubted he could sleep much after that, even though ’twas past midnight.
“Come, let’s go have a wee dram,” Fraser said. “I’m thinking you need it. Or another lass.”
“A wee dram, aye. Another lass, nay.” Keegan followed him down the stairs. Another lass was the last thing he would ever want.
At the bottom, Fraser gave him a questioning look, then shook his head. “You have the sickness, man.”
Aye, he knew Fraser was right, but he remained silent until they entered the small room off to the side of the great hall. Fraser took a decanter of whisky from the shelf and poured a bit into two small, expensive crystal glasses, then offered him one.
Fraser clicked his glass to Keegan’s, then downed the shot.
Keegan took a large sip and savored the burn. He only drank whisky on rare or special occasions, and he supposed this was one. Or maybe not.
“Do you not have the sickness?” Fraser persisted. “You are smitten with the lady.”
“Aye. ’Tis true,” Keegan admitted. He didn’t regret it, nor was he ashamed. “I’ve never met anyone like her before.” Every time he saw her, his mood lifted. When she smiled, it was like a hundred suns were shining inside him.
Fraser dropped into his brother’s huge chair behind the desk. “What will you do?”
Keegan shrugged and sat across from him. What could he do? “I want to marry her, but I suspect her father will not allow it.”
“Marry? Saints! You are mad.” Fraser’s blue eyes gleamed with humor.
“I am mad for her,” Keegan said in a matter-of-fact tone. “But I thought you agreed with me, that any man would befortunate to marry her.”
“Aye, she is beautiful, but marriage seems like…” Fraser cringed. “Being trapped in a dungeon.”
“Nay, my friend. One day you will understand how I feel when you meet that one special woman.”
“I don’t see it happening, unless a witch casts a spell on me or something equally horrible.” Fraser rose, retrieved the whisky and poured more for both of them.
“I have to take her home to her father in a few days.” Keegan’s stomach knotted and ached with the very thought. ’Twas the last thing he wished to do. He wanted to take her north to his home, not east.
“So… why not ask her father for her hand?”
Keegan nodded. “I will. ’Tis what Dirk suggested. But I ken my chances are slim.”
“Well, maybe her father will force you to marry her since you’ve…”
“I’ve not done what you’re imagining,” Keegan said. “She is still an innocent lady.”
“Only because I interrupted.” Fraser gave a broad grin. “And maybe you should. Ruin her and her father will have no choice but to force you to marry her.”
Nay, the thought did not set well with Keegan. It felt underhanded and dishonorable. “I’m thinking that would not work. He insists on her marrying a chief or titled laird. ’Tis my suspicion that if he thought she was no longer a virgin, he would marry her off to the first eligible laird that came along, no matter his age or disposition.”
Fraser’s dark brows lowered into a frown. “He sounds like a right ogre.”
“Aye. And if I don’t take her back to him, ’twould be inviting an attack from the powerful Murray Clan.”
Fraser nodded. “’Tis a bad position to be in.”
Keegan swallowed another generous sip of whisky, the burn reminding him of how much he yearned for Seona. “Dirk has named me his tanist.”
Fraser sat forward. “Well, there you are! ’Tis a title. Second in line to be chief is an important position.”
“Aye, and I am honored. ’Tis more than I’d ever imagined, but ’tis doubtful her father will consider it a high enough position. Iown no property.”
“’Tis better than naught. I want to come with you.”
