Page 116 of Steel & Surrender

And he would be.

He tasted salt and drew back, watching as tears slid down her cheeks. His pulse stuttered, yet she smiled even as she wept.

His own vision blurred, his throat aching with emotion.

Someone coughed, shattering the moment.

Blinking, Greig tore his gaze from Brìghde’s and glanced right, to where his father had pushed his way through the crowd and stepped forward. Loch Maclean’s expression was veiled, although his dark eyes were narrowed. “Didn’t think to ask me first before offering for Duart’s blacksmith?”

Greig stiffened.

Of course, he should have gone to his father, should have gotten his blessing, and Breac Boyd’s too.

But he hadn’t.

It had taken everything he had to approach Brìghde this morning. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything else.

However, spying the glint in his father’s eyes, he realized his mistake.

“Sorry, Da,” he said roughly. “I hadn’t planned to do things this way.”

That was the truth.

He hadn’t dared hope things would work out, that Brìghde would forgive him, that she’d listen to him. He was still reeling that she’d agreed to wed him.

However, his father had just driven a spike through his wheels.

“Ye are my heir,” Loch said. “And ye think ye can choose as ye please?”

Greig stiffened under the reprimand.

His father’s gaze shifted to Brìghde then. He stared her down, as if she was to blame for his son losing his wits. And to her credit, she didn’t lower her gaze. No, the lass faced her clan-chief, proud and defiant.

Greig’s pulse quickened.

Her courage was one of the things he loved most about her.

She wouldn’t be cowed. Even by Loch Maclean.

And neither would he. “I know this comes as a shock,” Greig answered, deciding he wasn’t going to bandy words about this. “But just like ye, I met a woman who changed everything for me.”

Mairi stepped up next to Loch. His mother’s expression was startled, yet her eyes gleamed.

Around them, some of the congregation were blinking furiously. A few of the women were wiping away tears.

A muscle bunched in his father’s jaw. “Not this again,” he growled. “Craeg Maclean used the same argument with me … I tire of others flinging my choices back in my face.”

Greig’s lips curved. “I’d never do that … I wouldn’t be here if ye two hadn’t wed.” His gaze flicked back to his mother. “Ye made an unconventional match, yet ye have never regretted it. My mother was the best thing that ever happened to ye.”

A nerve flickered under his father’s eye, even as Mairi wordlessly reached out and took his hand, threading her fingers through his.

“She was,” he admitted roughly. “But that doesn’t change this.”

“If ye won’t give us yer blessing, I understand,” Greig replied, stubbornness digging its heels in then. “If that means I must leave Mull with Brìghde and forge my own path elsewhere, so be it.”

His father’s lips pursed then, a clear sign his patience was being sorely tested.

Greig’s breathing grew shallow.