Page 54 of The Finest Scottish Fate

“Aye.” Drummond turned and held out a hand for Evie. “Lady Evie Waterton from far to the west.”

MacMuirrow squinted up at her, then his face puckered into a tighter, critical scowl. He cast a guarded look at the others in the room. “These folk came to see ye. Three men from Craig Durness. They say they are yer people.”

“Yes,” Evie said. She moved closer and gently took hold of the old man’s hand. “They’re my friends. They came to help me celebrate finding such a wonderful husband, and such a fine clan to claim as my family.”

Still frowning, MacMuirrow studied her, pondering her for such a long time that Drummond braced himself. Father might be gravely weakened and at death’s door, but occasionally the surly chief still summoned enough energy to spit a bit of fire just as he used to do.

“Craig Durness,” MacMuirrow said. “Never heard of it before this verra day.”

“’Tis as far to the west as can be,” Morganna said. “On the western shores of Skye. One of Scotland’s richest clans, to be sure.” She hitched her way closer and made it look as if she were checking the man for fever. “I am the clan’s new healer. Ye need another herbal, my chief. Have ye taken the other draughts I sent up for ye?”

MacMuirrow weakly waved her away. “Leave me. I have no time for the likes of ye now.” He shifted his bleary-eyed glare back to Evie. “One of Scotland’s richest clans, ye say? Then tell me, what do ye bring to my people? How will we benefit from this union ye managed to make without the consent of any MacMuirrow kith or kin?”

Mouth slightly ajar, she stared at him. “Uhm…well…I…”

“Speak, woman.” The old chief growled the words with surprising strength. “And dinna think to lie to me. My health may be poor, but I still know the stench of an untruth when I smell it.”

“Ye will not speak to my wife that way.” Drummond curled an arm around Evie and eased her back a few paces, sheltering her from the old man’s surliness.

MacMuirrow’s eyes narrowed, then he slowly shook his head as he once more focused on Drummond. “Ye refused matches that would have strengthened alliances and added to our coffers. I am well within my rights to ask this woman what she brings to my clan—especially if her people are as rich as she and that healer claim.” He struggled to lift his hand, then gave up and pointed a trembling finger at his son. “The Bruce may have named ye the first Earl of Blackmorrow, but that does not mean we canna return to the practice of tanistry to choose the next chief if I decide heredity proves to be an unwise choice for the leadership of this clan.”

Enraged that his father would even suggest such a thing, not only in front of visitors but also in front of Evie, Drummond leaned over and put his mouth close to his father’s ear. “Step carefully, old man,” he whispered with a low growl. “I have led this clan for the past five years since ye took to yer bed. My people’s fealty to me is heartily secured. Dinna be so foolish as to believe that anyone other than Glengarten will rush to lick yer boots and rise up against me, ye ken?”

His father jerked away, baring his yellowed teeth like an angry cur. “I am well within my rights to question this marriage.” His wool-wrapped hands trembled more violently. “From what I have been told, all yer wife has brought to this union is the cruelty of an early winter. I have seen no contract. No gifts. No coin.”

Drummond straightened and stepped back. Only Glengarten’s poisonous whisperings could have made this meeting run afoul so quickly. Struggling to control his temper, he gave a curt nod to the chief’s attendants. “Return Angus MacMuirrow to his bed. He makes little sense when he is weary.”

“Ye’ve not answered me,” his sire said, his voice raspy and weak. His valets clustered on either side of his chair and lifted it between them. “Ye are not the chief of this clan yet!” Easily carrying the weight of the frail man, the servants returned him to his bedchamber and closed the door behind them.

Drummond turned to Glengarten, who had retreated to the edge of the room to cower and wring his hands. “Inform the council I will see them in my solar within the hour.”

Twitching like a cornered rat, the man shook his head. “I dinna ken if they all are within the keep, m’lord.”

Drummond knew that for the lie that it was. His father’s councilors preferred the lavishness of Dubh Tower above all else. The fine, the elite council, consisting of the heads of Clan MacMuirrow’s most powerful families, spent more time at the keep than in their own homes. “Do it or regret it. The choice is yers, but I warn ye—I am in no mood to be tested.” No one insulted his Evie, and no one undermined his leadership of this clan.

“Aye, m’lord. I shall gather them immediately.” Glengarten fled from the room as if his breeks were on fire.

Turning to the three that the Unseelie woman had brought, Drummond offered them a grim nod. “Follow me, if ye will. Conversations are safer in my personal solar, if ye ken my meaning.”

Silent as a tomb and just as solemn, the men rose and fell in step behind Murdoch as he led the way down the hall. Morganna followed them, but Drummond held back and kept Evie with him. He nodded at the Dark One trailing along behind the men. “Do ye trust her?”

Evie hesitated a little too long for his liking before softly answering, “Yes.”

“What gave ye pause, lass?”

She shot a glance at his father’s bedchamber door. “I thought you said it wasn’t safe to talk here?”

“Aye, I did at that.” He led her out into the hallway and closed the solar’s door behind them. Keeping their pace slow, he escorted her as was proper. “Now, my own, are ye certain ye trust Morganna Nightwhisper?”

“I trust her now. Sort of.” An almost groaning sigh left her. “But when we first met? Not so much because she wasn’t honest with me. I now realize it was because she wanted to ensure I traveled across time to meet you, which makes me a little nervous about trusting her fully. I do believe she’ll do everything in her power to protect us because it helps her in her quest to break that curse.” She made a face and barely shook her head. “But I also think she’ll leave as soon as she thinks it’s safe to do so. I’m sort of like a puppy to her.”

“A puppy?”

“Her goal is to find me a good home and move on to the next mortal in the litter so she can satisfy her quota.” She drew her arisaid closer about her, shivering as she did so. “But now I’m worried about collateral damage.”

May the gods help him understand this precious woman and her odd way with words. “What worries ye precisely?”

“This weather. Ada told me that all the winter stores hadn’t been brought in, and you said yourself that you’re concerned about your livestock and your riders.” As they walked, she fixed a worried stare on the floor, her steps slowing until she finally halted and looked up at him. “We”—she pointed back and forth between the two of them—“our union, shouldn’t cost lives. It’s not fair for others to pay the price for us being together.” Her pained expression filled him with concern. “I don’t know that I can live with that.”