Page 14 of The Lass and the Laird

Not sure what to make of her encounter with the man who she'd pinned her hopes on, Meredith could only rush back the way she came. Her eyes and throat were as dry as her spirit.

Hopefully the laird would turn them away. She didn't wish to marry anyone, not the laird, and not the man in the woods any longer.

Chapter Six

"Are you mad?" Ian's fist hit the top of the table with so much force a goblet fell over, the mead spilling to the floor. "You cannot spurn the McNeil."

"I am not sure what to do at this moment. Many things cross my mind."

"Because of the red-haired lass?" Ian hissed lowering his voice as the visiting clansmen entered the room. "You had better find a way to not start the first clan clash in centuries."

The McNeil hesitated at the back of the room and two women followed behind.

Declan and Ian went to greet him.

The laird motioned the women forward. "May I present my wife, Grisella, and my daughter, Elsbeth."

The inhalation of breath at the sight of the comely lass with golden hair did not come from him, but from Ian. In turn, Elsbeth barely glanced at Declan, her gaze on his friend. She wore her hair in a thick braid that encircled her head. With a pert nose and large blue eyes, she was quite fetching.

Declan inclined his head and kissed the McNeil's wife’s hand and then the younger woman's. "I present my second, Ian McRainey Gordon."

His friend bowed to the laird and then, in turn, also kissed the women's hands.

Not wanting to insult the laird, Declan escorted the young lass to the high board and sat her to his right. The laird and his wife settled on his left. Ian on the other side of Elsbeth gave Declan a warning look before settling.

The meal went well. Declan ensured to maintain the conversation on neutral subjects, asking questions about the lands, the harvest and customs. Thankfully, Grisella McNeil enjoyed conversing and rambled non-stop about everything. Elsbeth, on the other hand, rarely spoke a word. Several times, he saw her turn to Ian to speak in soft tones.

His lips curved. Perhaps, he'd stumbled upon a way to save himself from marrying too soon. The McNeil leaned closer. "How many people do you house in this keep?"

"My five guards and Ian, although he owns a home and land of his own as my brother split part of these lands and gave him a smaller portion."

Coughing sounded as Ian choked on his ale and the guards who overheard turned to the high board, their eyebrows raised.

The McNeil didn't seem to notice. Instead, he looked to Ian with interest.

Admittedly, after the last conversation with Meredith, he was second-guessing his earlier judgment at not readily accepting a proposition of marriage to the McNeil lass.

He hoped to divert the McNeil's attention to Ian in case Elsbeth was more interested in him. But he still felt bad at springing something on Ian without first speaking to him. His friend's flat stare told him that Ian did not appreciate it either.

At the same time, he could be making a mess of things for naught. Meredith seemed genuinely against marrying "Laird Gordon." Although it could all be part of a plan to confuse him.

What would her response be at finding out he was, in actuality, the man she considered to be of low honor? It was true, up until a few months ago, he cared not who he bedded, be it his father's wife or not. Honor was not something he'd ever considered necessary unless it had to do with his men.

He never lied to his guardsmen. Once his word was given, they knew to trust it. Women, they were another story. Unfortunately, family had fallen into the same category and, for that, he was genuinely sorrowful. Although his reasons were strong, they did not excuse his actions.

"Ian, have you gone to inspect the cottage on the southern boundary next to the Stuart lands?” Declan hoped his apology was evident in his eyes. He then spoke to Elsbeth. "I think it's quite comfortable, large enough for a family."

She lifted a brow, but did not reply. Instead, she looked down at her plate. The lass didn't seem enthusiastic about making his acquaintance.

"Aye, not too far from where you went earlier. Yer brother used it to retire when he went boar hunting with his men." Ian's flat stare did not seem to bode well as far as his acceptance.

"Good."

"We must speak." Ian's warning tone did not dampen his spirit. "About my home." His friend emphasized the word "my" and glared at him. "I am at a loss of what to do with this new acquisition."

Several hours later, the great room remained full. Although several of the villagers had left, the guards from both clans remained. Declan had joined his men at their table. The McNeil neared. "May I speak to you in private?"

"Aye, of course." He motioned the man to chairs in front of the fireplace away from being overheard. "Is everything to your liking, Laird?"