Page 46 of Stealing a Kilted Heart

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Lord, how did I ever think this was a good idea?

In his study, sitting in his plush armchair behind his desk, Knox stared at the men of his council blankly as they threw suggestion after suggestion at him, never once giving him a single moment to give his input.

He swirled the one of two cups of wine he was allowed a day as he recovered, his head pounding with a headache that had begun the moment his council had mentioned that after the events of the battle, where he had been so terribly injured, he needed to take a wife and produce an heir or two—anything for the clan, they said. It had already been too long, they said. He should already have a wife and a child, if not two, and yet there he was, delaying the inevitable for no good reason.

He had been the one to call the council to his study, thinking it necessary to speak with them after the attack and make sure they had a plan in case they were attacked again soon. At first, they had gone over all their strategies and everything they needed to do to strengthen themselves and the keep, but once that conversation was over, the council had been quick to suggest a marriage.

Knox had half a mind to pretend that he was still unwell. It wouldn’t be entirely false, since it had only been less than a week since the battle and he was still tired and sore, even if he could now walk on his own and, if necessary, even move his arm. He had a suspicion, though, that someone in the council would call him out on his lie and so he remained silent as the men discussed the potential mates as though he wasn’t even there.

He exchanged a quick glance with Magnus, who was standing by his side, watching the council with narrowed eyes. This entire time, he had said nothing on the matter, but Knox didn’t expect him to. He knew the elders appreciated his opinion on matters regarding the army, but when it came to things like this, where they knew he would take Knox’s side, they rarely ever asked him.

“Perhaps Miss MacLean would be a good option,” said one of the council members. “It is said she is a bonnie lass.”

“It is said she is also sixteen years o’ age,” Knox pointed out, speaking up for the first time. Though it was not unheard of, he didn’t want a wife many years his junior. He hardly found it appropriate.

Then again, he didn’t want any wife other than Fia.

“Very well,” said the man. “Miss Campbell, then. She’s a few years older than Miss MacLean.”

“Och aye, Miss Campbell would be a fine match fer ye, me laird,” said another council member. “But she has many suitors. If we are serious about this, we should send a proposal right the now.”

Knox raised his hand with a sigh, bringing the conversation to a halt. The silence that followed was so pleasant that he took a few moments to break it, enjoying it while it could last.

“I’m nae feelin’ well,” he said. “Let us reconvene once I rest. I need some time tae think about yer proposals. Magnus will call ye once I have made me decision.”

The council didn’t seem particularly happy at being dismissed like that, without even making the choice of sending a few proposals to eligible young ladies, but they were not about to argue with him when he claimed that he was not feeling well. After wishing him a swift recovery, the men shuffled out of the room, leaving Knox alone with Magnus.

It was only then that Knox allowed himself to appear energized again, sitting up a little straighter in his chair as he downed his drink. “I willnae wed any o’ them.”

With a roll of his eyes, Magnus took his seat across from him, steeling his fingers under his chin. “Why?” he asked. “Dae ye enjoy sleepin’ with every lass in the castle so much that ye cannae even think about yer duty?”

Those words were well-deserved, much to Knox’s chagrin. Magnus had good reason to think like this. After all, Knox had refused to marry this entire time because he did, in fact, enjoy the life of the bachelor too much to give it up.

He liked the fairer sex. He couldn’t deny it. He was weak around women and he liked nothing more than to have a new one in his bed every now and then.

All that had stopped, though, when he had met Fia. She had changed his entire world and now he couldn’t even look at another woman. None of them held any appeal for him.

Had it not been for Fia, he would have agreed to marry a noble girl, any that the council deemed right for him, at this point. He would have done the right thing, the thing that was best for the clan. He would have married a girl and given the council all the heirs they could want.

But with Fia there, the best choice was obvious to him, even if it wasn’t to anyone else. She was just as capable of giving the clan heirs as any noble-born girl. Save for her humble origins, the council should have no issue with her.

But her humble origins were precisely the problem.

“I’ll wed Fia,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. Magnus laughed, but when he realized Knox was being entirely serious, he sobered up and looked at him with wide eyes, as though the mere thought was horrifying.

“What dae ye mean?” he asked. “Ye cannae dae that.”

“An’ why is that?” Knox demanded. “She is the one I want. I should wed the lass I want.”

“Knox… ye’re the laird,” Magnus said, as though Knox could have somehow forgotten it. “Ye cannae simply wed who ye wish.”

“I disagree,” Knox said, shaking his head. “It doesnae matter tae me if she is a peasant. I’m in love with her, Magnus. Surely, ye out o’ everyone else can understand that. What if Effie had been a peasant? What if ye couldnae have wed her because o’ it?”

Magnus pressed his lips together in a thin line, unable to say anything to that. Knox knew Magnus adored his wife; nothing could have kept him away from her, not even an entire council.

“They’ll never allow it,” said Magnus after a long pause. “Ye ken that.”