“Why do you not find your own wife?” Isobel moved to stand behind Dirk and placed her hands on his shoulders.
“Ha. Are you thinking my father would allow that?” Rebbie asked. “He’s been scheming and searching for a bride for me for at least a decade, mayhap longer. ’Tis his favorite pastime. Gushing fathers and mothers with their lasses constantly parade through his great hall, bringing him grand gifts. Why do you think I never go home? He’d find some way to leg-shackle me to one of them.”
“Well, you never know. One of them might be beautiful and sweet,” Isobel said.
Rebbie lifted a brow. “If she is, I’m certain my father would send her away. He will want me to suffer greatly for what I’ve put him through over the years.”
“All the more reason for you to start searching out a bride yourself,” she said.
Rebbie shrugged. “If I find a lady that meets all my requirements, aye.”
“And what are your requirements?” Keegan asked.
“Beautiful, buxom, sweet, accommodating, a lady… but she should also have a wild side, someone who is not too serious or aloof. Of course, my father will demand that she be from a prominent family.”
“’Tis what every man wants,” Dirk said.
“And some of you get it,” Rebbie muttered.
“I am a lucky man.” Dirk grinned, taking Isobel’s hand and kissing the back.
“Forget requirements, Rebbie,” Isobel said. “You need someone to fall in love with, who will love you back.”
“Hmph. Not all of us can live in fairy-land as you do, m’lady.”
“’Tis not fairy-land. What Dirk and I share is real.”
“Aye. I have no doubt of it. But I can count on one hand the people I know who have a marriage based on a love match. For the rest of the kingdom, marriage is a political arrangement. You got lucky. I fear I will not be.”
Keegan feared he would not be as lucky as Dirk either. And that realization was like getting gored in the stomach.
“Lady Patience is saying she wishes to leave in the morn,” Isobel said. “I tried to calm her down but ’twas no use. I feared she would fall into a fit of apoplexy.”
“In the morn?” Keegan asked. “But we have not yet foundHaldane and his outlaws.”
“I’m not certain they will be found until they wish to be,” Dirk said. “’Tis the way McMurdo has always been. Haldane is becoming just like him.”
“Aye.” Keegan stood, the urge to see Seona again near overwhelming him. He might not get to be with her much longer. But he still could not conceive of giving her up. “I should go apologize to Lady Seona and Lady Patience.”
“Nay, not now,” Isobel said gently. “’Haps in the morn.”
He nodded, annoyed that he had made such a grand blunder, getting caught in Seona’s room. “Very well. I bid you all good-night.”
They responded in kind and Keegan let himself out into the corridor. All was quiet and Seona’s door was closed. He had to leave now, else Lady Patience might attack him again with a fire poker. He strode to the end of the corridor and took several steps down the spiral stair. A door opened and closed behind him. He inched back up far enough to see who it was. Lady Patience. She disappeared into her own chamber. Excitement lit within him. Dare he go back and speak with Seona again?
If he did, he would get into deeper trouble, for he didn’t simply want to talk to her. He wanted so much more, and all involved physical contact.
∞∞∞
Seona covered her head with the counterpane and blankets, so glad Aunt Patience had finally exhausted herself with that rant and gone to her own room. Seona’s head throbbed painfully from the woman’s shrieks.
Aye, she knew her aunt would report all the scandalous news to her father, but she didn’t want to think of the horrid consequences right now. She’d already tortured herself with those for the past two days.
Keegan loved her—that was all she could focus on now. He’d said the words—I love youin that deep, spellbinding voice. The look in his eyes had been serious, passionate and emotional. He’d meant what he said. ’Twas what she’d hoped for during the past few months.
She did not know the exact moment she’d fallen in love with him. It had happened gradually with each smile he’d bestowed on her. Each lingering gaze. Each touch of her hand on his arm.
“Please, God,” she whispered. “Help me to make Keegan my own. My husband. He is a good man.”
