“Well, ’tis about time,” a deep, rough voice called out. A man, dressed in the Lowland or English style, stood from his elevated seat at the high table, stepped down and strode forward to greet them. Keegan assumed he was Chief Ambrose Murray, Seona’s father. He was stocky, with gray hair. His clean-shaven face was flushed, either from being too close to the fire or too much whisky. With a narrow-eyed gaze, he inspected Seona first.
“A good eve to you, Father.” She curtsied, keeping her eyes downcast.
Keegan frowned, his instincts going on high alert for he sensed her fear.
“Seona,” Murray said, then lifted his gaze to scan over the faces of those who had come inside. Several of the guards and servants had remained outside, seeing to the horses and making sure the healer attended the injured men’s wounds.
“We brought Lady Seona and Lady Patience home in Chief MacKay’s stead,” Keegan said. “He was injured in a skirmish during our travels. And he sent you a gift.”
“Who are you?” Chief Murray asked in a stern voice, hisbrown eyes hostile.
“Keegan MacKay, m’laird.” He bowed. “Tanist and cousin of Chief MacKay. I’m honored to meet you.”
“Ah.” He shook Keegan’s hand briefly, then turned his attention to the other men. “And who else do I have the pleasure of meeting?”
“This is Dermott MacKenzie and his brother, Fraser.” Keegan motioned to them. “They are younger brothers of Chief MacKenzie.”
“I stayed here for a couple of nights last year,” Dermott said. “Good to see you again, m’laird.”
Murray shook both their hands. “Aye,” he said in a neutral tone.
Keegan motioned to Rebbie. “And this is Robert MacInnis, the Earl of Rebbinglen.”
Chief Murray’s bushy gray brows shot up and his demeanor switched, almost as if he were a different person. “Earl of Rebbinglen?” He stepped forward and gave Rebbie a long, solemn handshake while studying him. “’Tis my great pleasure and honor to meet you again, Laird Rebbinglen. I remember when you were a wee lad.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Chief Murray.”
“You have the look of your father. How is he?”
Rebbie grinned. “Still as ornery as ever.”
“Ha.” With what might be called a grin, Murray slapped Rebbie on the shoulder, then released his hand.
After scanning the rest of the MacKay party and apparently dismissing them, he motioned those he’d met forward. “’Tis time for supper. Please join us.”
Keegan frowned, watching the ladies and the others of their party proceed to the high table, then he followed. Something here was not right and Keegan didn’t like it.
“Rebbinglen,” Chief Murray said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Please join me.”
Keegan eyed the man, noticing he’d said nothing else to his daughter and had only nodded to his sister, Lady Patience. What Keegan had heard all along was true then—above all, Chief Murray valued prestige. Titles. Wealth. Keegan felt as if a blade had stabbed into his stomach. His chances of gaining the man’s permission to marry Seona were going to be nonexistent… unless Rebbie could soften him up and convince him otherwise. Keegan was suddenly very glad Rebbie had accompanied them.
Keegan approached the high table, and when he saw the vacant seat beside Seona, he took it. He’d be daft not to seize any opportunity to be near her, though he was unsure how Chief Murray would feel about this.
∞∞∞
Seona couldn’t believe Keegan was sitting beside her. With her father only a few seats away?Saints.If he perceived that either of them paid much attention to the other, he’d fly into a rage, no matter who looked on. Her stomach knotted and ached. She wouldn’t be able to eat a bite. She wished she could take her leave of the table, go to her chamber and rest, but to do so would draw her father’s angry attention.
Thankfully, he was too busy entertaining Laird Rebbinglen to notice much else. Rebbie told him of the recent skirmish that had taken place just beyond Gillenmor.
Seona glanced around, not spotting her sister. She was likely still with Cousin Genevieve.
While the food was being served, Seona was able to relax marginally. She had no appetite for the leek and pea soup. Her attention was drawn to Keegan, beside her. From the corner of her eye, she observed his big strong hands, his muscular arms beneath his doublet, and his plaid. She found his manly scent most appealing.
“Are you not hungry, Lady Seona?” he asked in a conversational tone.
“Nay. Not overmuch.” She lifted her wooden spoon and forced herself to take a bite.
He removed two slices of bread from the large platter close to him and gave her one.
