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Blair stared down at that hand, taking in his long, wrinkled fingers. She offered a small nod, placing her hand in his and allowing him to tug her forward. He repositioned her arm, hooking it with his so it appeared he was escorting her rather than the other way around.
“I wouldn’t want ye spending the day alone,” he said while leading the way out of his quarters. “Trick of the light or nae.”
“Thank ye, my laird.”
She followed him through the castle keep until they came upon a room guarded by several soldiers. One she recognized from the night before opened the door, displaying a man sitting in a chair with a woman by his side. Daniel stood on one side of the desk, sitting in the middle of the room. A large window was open, letting in the light. The wind tousled the curtains.
Aindreas stood at the window with his back turned, his arms crossed while he gazed at something in the distance.
“Miss Blair,” said Daniel with a soft smile, taking her hand and guiding her to the other side of the room. “I apologize. If I had known ye were coming, I would have brought another chair.”
“It’s quite fine, thank ye, Daniel.” She glanced over her shoulder, her heart stuttering when she met Aindreas’s concerned gaze. Dark circles marred his eyes, and his face looked unusually pallid as if he had spent the better part of the night tossing and turning, as well. “I’m quite fine with standing,” she said while turning away from him, giving Daniel a gentle squeeze before dropping his hand.
Her gaze drifted to Sorcha, who slowly rose with her father from her chair. The lass was about Blair’s age with long, curly red hair and blue eyes. Her father was of the same coloring with a large, bushy beard. He scrutinized Laird MacBean as he strode over towards his desk, dumping himself into his seat before leaning over the table.
Blair clenched her jaw, worried that the laird wouldn’t be able to contain his cough for much longer. His face was ashen. Sweat dripped from his brow. She watched him inhale deeply, wondering if he was trying to calm his breath in front of the laird before him.
“Laird Cambel,” he said in a commanding voice, one Blair did not expect. “I apologize for making ye wait. I had some duties to attend to before that could not wait.”
Laird Cambel’s dark glare swiveled towards Blair, and she flinched under the scrutinizing gaze, a shudder rippling down her spine as his eyes drifted down her body.
“Aye,” he said hesitantly before turning back towards Laird MacBean. “I have spoken with yer lad, Aindreas.” He nodded towards Aindreas, yet the young laird refused to lift his gaze. “It appears he has taken a fondness to my Sorcha.”
Blair noticed the way Sorcha’s hands gripped each other. It was such a white-knuckled grasp, she worried for a moment the lass would accidentally injure herself. Her blue eyes glimmered with fear and a sense of sadness Blair knew all too well.
“Nothing could seal an alliance better than a marriage between our clans.”
Laird MacBean nodded. “I do agree, an alliance between our clans is needed but marriage?” His head tilted to the side. “Don’t tell me ye follow such old, traditional ways when we can just as easily pledge our loyalty to one another.”
Laird Cambel’s glower darkened, and Blair felt a chill take hold of the room as she watched the man slowly approach Laird MacBean. “Aye, I do follow the old and traditional, for ‘tis the only thing that will keep ye from stabbing yer knife into my back after the MacAlisters are dealt with. A marriage of convenience is the only way to ensure yer and my loyalty to each other.” He motioned towards his daughter standing behind him, who flinched at the sudden movement. “Do ye not find her bonnie, MacBean?” He chuckled darkly. “Or should I be asking yer Aindreas?”
Laird MacBean sighed. Peeking over Laird Cambel’s shoulder, he looked at Sorcha, pursing his lips while nodding. The lass gripped her hands even harder. Blair noticed her nails digging into her flesh under the laird’s scrutiny.
“Aye, she’s bonnie, Cambel.”
Laird Cambel’s smirk grew, the joyful gleam in his gaze taking hold as he leaned over Laird MacBean’s desk. “Then what are ye waiting for, ye old goat? We shall have them married by—“
“Aindreas cannot proceed with this marriage.”
Laird Cambel’s mouth hung open. Blair didn’t know if he was filled with rage or shock. Her gaze was focused on Aindreas, who stared at his father with everything she wished he wouldn’t. He scowled at his father, yet he lacked his usual passionate ire. His hands fisted, yet he didn’t move towards his father. His shoulders appeared slumped as if he was exhausted from fighting.
“Father,” Aindreas began, his fists trembling.
“My nephew Daniel would be a perfect match for the lass,” Laird MacBean said quickly, ignoring Aindreas, whose darkened gaze turned to the floor.
Daniel stepped forward, offering a low bow to Laird Cambel. “‘Tis a pleasure to make yer acquaintance,” he said softly.
“Ye would give me this lad rather than yer own son,” Laird Cambel said darkly.
“Daniel is a good lad.”
“Father—“
Laird MacBean held up a hand, effectively silencing his son. “He is next in line after Aindreas. He would treat yer daughter kindly. I can swear to that.”
Blair watched Aindreas. His eyes were wide as he gazed at Laird Cambel, whose hands fisted. She didn’t know if he would draw his sword. The room was tense. All eyes were on laird Cambel, wondering what he would say or do.
Finally, he grunted and turned on his heel. “We’re going,” he said gruffly while grabbing Sorcha’s arm and tugging her towards the door.
“Wait!” Aindreas shouted while following them. He grabbed the laird’s shoulder, but Cambel shook him off.
“I told ye, lad, the Cambel’s do not like to be trifled with,” he said darkly. “And here we are, going home empty-handed. All this time wasted. Ye should be ashamed.”
Blair watched Aindreas’s hand slowly fall. There was a desperation in his gaze as he watched them go. His body slumped in defeat as if he was carrying the entire weight of Castle Lachlan upon his shoulders. She wanted to go to him, wanted to help him in any way possible.
But why? she asked herself. Why would she want to do such a thing when he had broken her heart?
