Page 65 of Stealing a Kilted Heart

This time, Knox laughed loudly, startling even himself. When he took a few hesitant steps forward, Fia froze, wondering what was to come next, but he only took her hand in his and held it tightly, gazing into her eyes.

“Ye’re impossible,” he told her. “But curse me if I dinnae still love ye.”

“The weddin’ plans will proceed as scheduled,” Knox said the following morning in his council meeting.

Ever since Callum’s return, whose mission had yielded no results, Knox had dreaded the moment he would have to be in the same room with him once more—not so much because he didn’t want to displease him, but rather because some of the elders considered him an obvious choice for the position of the warleader simply because his father had been such a great and capable man. Yet now the time had come. It seemed to Knox that he couldn’t avoid the man, especially since a proper report of his mission was needed, and so now Callum stood in the corner of the room, cloaked in shadows.

Knox had bigger problems than an entitled, petulant man, though. Immediately after his announcement, the elders all stood from their chairs, protests filling the room, just as Knox had expected. He hadn’t come here empty-handed, though. He had cold, hard evidence and he would use it.

“I understand yer frustration,” he called over all the shouting, prompting the elders to quiet down one by one and listen to him. “What ye heard last night may have swayed some o’ ye but I ken Fia’s heart an’ I ken she would be the best wife tae me an’ the best lady fer our clan. Ye saw how she handled everythin’ ye threw at her these past few weeks. Ye saw her resilience, her character, her kindness. Everythin’ ye demanded, she did it. Everythin’ fer which ye wished, she gave. Why dae ye still insist on bein’ against her? So what if she is a peasant lass? She has shown more strength than any noble lass I ken.”

Whispers rippled once more through the council. They couldn’t contradict his claims, not when everyone knew just how well Fia had done by his side already. The people loved her—the peasants, the servants, the merchants, everyone had a good word to say about her and they had all already accepted her as the Lady of the Clan. The elders may have been powerful in Knox’s study; they may have been the authority on war and diplomacy and trade, but when it came to the real world, to everyday matters, it was the people who had the last say.

And the people had chosen Fia.

“This is preposterous,” Cairn said, just as Knox had expected. Despite the facts, despite all the effort Fia had put into proving herself, Cairn still refused to see her value, and as the most senior of the elders, Knox had no choice but to listen to him. An if, in the end, he managed to sway even those elders who were willing to give Fia a chance, then Knox would have a real problem in his hands. “The lass is still a peasant! She is beneath ye, me laird.”

“I dinnae consider her beneath me,” Knox said, with as much patience as he could muster. “I dinnae consider any man or woman beneath me. Why should I? I had the privilege tae be born the son of a laird, but why should that make me better than anyone else? Dae ye think I have more value than ye, Cairn? Ye’re an elder. Ye’ve served me an’ me faither well. Ye’re an indispensable part o’ our clan. But ye consider yerself beneath me?”

Murmurs spread through the crowd once more, once again conflicted. Some of the elders could see Knox’s reasoning, others still considered peasants beneath him, and others still considered him to be the most important man in the keep—and perhaps so it was, in terms of politics and finance. But Knox didn’t consider himself better than everyone else on account of his pedigree.

“It is unprecedented,” Cairn said, insisting while changing tactics at the same time. “Nae other laird has ever wedded a peasant.”

“In our clan, perhaps,” said Knox. “But it isnae unheard o’.”

“That is true,” another of the elders said. “It will attract some… attention, but it’s happened afore.”

“What happens if we dinnae come tae an agreement?” another elder asked and everyone, including Knox, fell silent. He didn’t have an answer to that question and neither did any of the elders, he knew. He wasn’t going to change his mind, so if they refused to allow this marriage, then the only way Knox could think of moving forward was if he stepped down and handed over the lairdship to someone else. But how could he choose between love and duty?

“I think we can all understand what will happen if we dinnae, so I must ask ye now…. are we in agreement?” Magnus asked, taking the lead, and then counted the votes of the elders. Eight of them were—four were not.

That was good enough for Knox.

Relief washed over him when he realized he and Fia could finally wed without anyone trying to stop them. Now he could finally rest easy and focus on the next task—the next war leader, the role that had been left vacant for far too long.

“Good,” he said. “Now, on tae the next matter… a new war leader must be appointed. A decision has already been made.”

From the corner of his eye, Knox caught Callum standing a little straighter, taking a small step forward as if expecting to be called. He was impatient, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eager to take on his late father’s role, but Knox ignored him. If he was under the impression he would become the next war leader after his performance, then he was truly a fool, Knox thought.

“It wasnae a decision I made lightly,” Knox continued, looking at the elders one by one. “An’ I am sure ye will find me choice more than satisfactory. Some o’ ye already ken who me choice is an’ have expressed yer support. The rest o’ ye may be surprised but ken that I chose this man because o’ his skill an’ talent an’ ye’ll soon see he is the only choice fer this role.”

In his corner, Callum faltered a little, much to Knox’s delight. He deserved to be put in his place, he thought, to realize he was not the man he thought himself to be.

Knox let his gaze rest on Callum for a moment before he dragged it over to the other side of the room. “Malcolm Stuart, please step forward,” he said. “Congratulations are in order. I hope ye will make this clan proud.”

Malcolm, a young man descending from a neighboring branch of the Stuart Clan stepped in from the corner of the room, where he had been waiting in the shadows throughout the meeting. He was a skilled warrior—Knox had fought with him and he knew the strength he carried, not only in his body, but also in his mind. Never before had Knox met such a brilliant strategist.

“I can vouch fer his skills personally,” Knox said, tilting his head in acknowledgement when Malcolm bowed to him. “But if there are any concerns, please address them tae me or directly tae Malcolm.”

From the other corner of the room, Callum met Knox’s gaze. Though the man said nothing, Knox could see the hatred in his eyes, the way he barely restrained himself from the clench of his jaw.

Within moments, he stormed out of the room.

Fia could hardly believe the day had come. She had spent so much of her life feeling worthless, so much of it craving love and attention, seeking it in all the wrong places, but now that was all over. If there was one thing she knew, it was that Knox wouldn’t hurt her like that.

She still didn’t know how he had managed to convince the council that she was the right woman for him. When she had asked, he told her it was she who had convinced them with her prowess, but Fia didn’t believe it. Surely, he thought, he must have told them something to sway them.

Soon, she would have to get ready for the ceremony. But for now, she was just outside the castle walls, gathering flowers to adorn her hair, just like she had always imagined as a little girl. Effie had insisted that she take some flowers from the garden, but Fia preferred the wildflowers—their scents, their colors, their untamed nature. Besides, it was a lovely day, a rare sunny morning when the sunlight warmed her skin, and she wanted to enjoy it.