Page 3 of Married to her Kilted Enemy

But though he hated his father and Rollo as much as Maddison and the Kincaids hated him, he was still his father’s son. He had never been one to give up easily, however bad the odds seemed.

There must be a way.

Now, standing before the council and hearing what they had to say, he was encouraged to put forth the plan that had been slowly forming in the deep, dark depths of his mind for some time.

“There’s only one lass I’ll consider as a wife,” he said in a tone that, he hoped, brooked no argument.

The councilmen’s ears pricked up, and they all looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and expectancy.

“Oh? And who might that be, me laird?” Angus asked.

“Maddison Kincaid.”

He might as well have thrown a fox into the henhouse for all the furor that caused. Only Liam and Tadhg appeared unsurprised.

Angus spluttered out, “I’m sorry, me laird, but did ye say Maddison Kincaid?”

“Ye ken I did,” Odhrán confirmed with a nod, creating fresh turmoil amongst his advisors.

“The lass yer faither kept locked up here fer a year until her braithers attacked us and killed him and took her away?”

“Aye, the very same.”

“May we ask why her in particular, me laird?” Renley asked.

“It’ll put an end tae this feud me faither had with the Kincaids once and fer all. It’ll be of benefit tae all of us if it’s done with,” Odhrán explained, growing bolder as they seemed receptive to his idea.

“Well, fair enough,” Renley said after a few moments of quiet discussion among the councilmen. “If that’s the lass ye want, me laird, then we’ll back ye. But d’ye nae think it likely her braithers will nae countenance such a match, even if she agrees tae it? Which I dinnae think there’s much chance she will. Nae counting that they killed yer faither…”

“If the laird’s willin’ tae put that aside fer the sake of improvin’ relations between our two clans then we should support him. After all, the old laird was nae much of a faither tae him, and he didnae exactly act in ways tae improve our relations with other clans either,” Angus pointed out. “That wasnae good fer any of us.”

Once again, Odhrán was touched by the councilmen’s understanding of the difficulties he had faced when his father had been alive. The old man had been a bully and a brute. The only trouble was, they were lacking a vital piece of information that may have radically changed any decision they might choose to make about their future laird.

The council did not know that the Kincaids had not killed the old laird. It had been Odhrán himself who had ended his father’s life, all to protect Maddison. Odhrán was that most wretched of creatures—a parricide. It was such a horrible thing to have done that, however bad his father had been, he could not even reconcile it with himself, let alone tell anyone else the truth about what he had done. All but his best friends, that was. Thus, deep down, he knew he’d never be at peace with what he had done.

“True enough. But other clan feuds that have lasted decades have been ended by such marriages, and both clans have prospered,” Renly said. “There’s nae harm in tryin’ if that’s what the young laird wants.” Murmurs of agreement came from the others.

“So, d’ye have any ideas how we could go about securin’ their agreement, then, me laird?” Tadhg asked, looking at Odhrán with a hint of encouragement in his eyes. He and his brother already knew a little of Odhrán’s thoughts and plans on this subject.

“Aye, as it happens, I dae,” Odhrán replied, flashing a grateful glance at Tadhg.

“Well, let’s hear it then, me laird,” Renley said. “If there’s any chance of it workin’, we’ll back ye all the way rather than have Rollo as our laird.”

“All right,” Odhrán replied, optimism welling up inside him and replacing the guilt he felt as the man who had killed his father. “So, here’s me plan.”

CHAPTER TWO

Two weeks later, Kincaid Castle

“Och, see how the wee man’s toddlin’ about all by himself now,” Maddison laughed in delight as she encourage Rónán, her baby nephew, to walk unsteadily between herself and his mother, Lillie, Lady Kincaid.

“I ken, he grows more amazin’ every day,” the child’s proud mother said, beaming at her son and catching him, laughing, as he careened into her knees. The little boy giggled, clearly as thrilled by his own antics as the two young women.

“He surely does, Lillie,” Maddison agreed, leaning forward in her chair and holding out her arms ready for Rónán’s return journey. “Ye must both be so proud of the wee man, he’s so strong, like his da.” It was true. Little Rónán was a miniature copy of Diarmaid, big and sturdy, with a mop of dark hair and big dark eyes.

“He is that,” Lillie said with clear affection for both her son and her husband. “Though it has tae be said that Diarmaid doesnae have quite such a tendency tae dribble as the wee one.” Both women laughed at that. “And, ye could say Diarmaid’s a bit too proud of Rónán. Ye ken, Maddison, he’s only threatenin’ tae put a sword in the lad’s hand before his second birthday,” Lillie continued, making them laugh some more.

“That doesnae surprise me one bit,” she told Lillie, catching Rónán in her arms before he stumbled and fell on his face on his way to her. “Where is he, by the way? I’ve hardly seen him these last few days.” She cuddled the child and blew raspberries on his chubby cheeks, sending him into a fresh fit of giggles. Then, she set him off on the return journey to his mother, who was seated in the armchair a few feet across the hearthrug.