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Chapter Twenty-Three
Aindreas
Aindreas sat at his father’s desk. He sat in his chair, leaning back in it like the old man once did. It felt different sitting on the other side. He kept recalling how he sat in the chairs before him, remembering being scolded over slipping a frog into Lady Alisa’s quarters or the time he had fallen from the tree. So many memories lingered in this room, both ill and fond.
No matter how much he told himself, it would always be his father’s desk, his father’s chair. He stared back at Laird Cambel, no longer knowing what the man was prattling on about. It couldn’t be about battle strategies against the MacAlisters, given that Sorcha was sitting next to him, and so Aindreas assumed it was about the wedding.
He couldn’t think about marriage now. His father had gone into the ground only yesterday, and although Laird Cambel was a wonderful laird to align himself with, Aindreas was near his breaking point. What more needed to be discussed? The date was set. Laird Cambel would be leaving with Sorcha to make arrangements. It was done. Now, all Aindreas wanted to do was mourn, yet he couldn’t see that happening any time soon. He needed to speak with the village speakers, read through his father's documents, speak with the farmers on their crops and taxes; there was too much to do in such little time.
His eyes swiveled to Sorcha, who had barely looked at him during her entire stay at Castle Lachlan. The rumors were true about her beauty. She had the same coloring as her father, yet her looks were supple and feminine. However, there was a sadness about her. She hardly spoke a word to him. No more than a meager hello. Perhaps she was shy, Aindreas wondered, or unfamiliar with the ways of men. There was one point in time when he would have enjoyed the challenge of opening Sorcha up to him, getting her to smile his way, even just a small touch of her hand on his. But now, he found his thoughts on an entirely different lass.
One with eyes like emeralds and skin like porcelain.
He clenched his jaw, trying very hard not to scowl in front of Laird Cambel. Even when he was busy, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from turning to her, wondering what she was doing, who she was with.
Aindreas’s frown deepened as he wondered if she was with Daniel. He imagined them picking flowers in the meadow, laughing about something daft Daniel had said. The thought made his hands fist.
“Well, I assume everything will get sorted,” said Aindreas when Laird Cambel paused with whatever it was he was saying.
The laird’s eyes narrowed, and he stroked his chin. “Aye, it will.”
“Then, is that all?” Aindreas rose. “If ye pardon me, I must tend to some other duties.”
Laird Cambel bobbed his head up and down, yet his eyes gleamed with malice as if he was questioning Aindreas’s loyalty already. Aindreas was too tired, too sad to play the usual political games, and so he forced a smile, hoping he appeared genuine.
“Of course, lad,” Laird Cambel said lowly while rising. “Sorcha and I will return and make preparations, and in the next coming month, I expect the both of ye to be married.” His gaze turned towards his daughter, who refused to look at her father.
“I would expect no less,” said Aindreas as he watched the interaction.
Laird Cambel placed a hand on Sorcha’s shoulders, but the girl immediately wrenched herself from her father’s grasp and turned on her heel, stalking out of the room. Aindreas opened his mouth, not knowing what to say. He promptly clamped it closed when he noticed the laird’s dark scowl in Sorcha’s direction as she hovered near the door.
“That lass may be bonnie, but her ears still need fixing,” the laird muttered while stomping out of the room after Sorcha.
Aindreas followed after them into the hall, knowing he should see them off, but his feet paused as he came to the end of the corridor. The right would take him to the staircase, which would lead out into the courtyard, yet the left would take him to Blair’s rooms. He hadn’t spoken a word to the lass since that night. He had wanted to during the funeral, but he hadn’t known what to say. Her eyes had been so red and swollen. All he had wanted to do was pull her into his arms, but Laird Cambel had been there.
That would not have made a very good impression.
He turned, his eyes widening when he realized he was going left rather than right. A part of him wondered what in the heavens he was doing. What would he even say to Blair? They couldn’t be together. Not to mention, she liked Daniel. She should be with Daniel. He would treat her right. He would love her the way she deserved to be loved.
“Ye must marry her. Promise me ye will marry her.”
He scowled and shook his father’s words away. The old man hadn’t known what he was saying. It didn’t make any sense for him to marry Blair. Yet, the moment he thought those words, he felt himself crack from within, wanting her more than he had ever wanted anyone.
If only he had never been told the truth. If only he had been Lady Fiona’s son, then he could have Blair. Only then could they have been happy together.
He paused as he turned the corner. A frown marring his face as he found Lady Alisa walking towards him, sneering at him. “My laird,” his aunt said while dipping into a low curtsy. “Or I suppose, ye have yet to be named as such, am I correct?”
Aindreas scoffed. “I have no time for yer contempt.”
His aunt chuckled. “I suppose not with the MacAlisters nearly upon our door and yer impending marriage to Sorcha Cambel.” She clucked her tongue, which irritated him all the more. “Ye have been quite a busy dog, now haven’t ye?”
Aindreas ignored her as he stalked past her towards Blair’s door. He didn’t need to respond to her wicked words, knowing she would only spurn his ire even more. His hand raised, yet he paused at Alisa’s words.
“She’s not there.” Alisa chuckled while he slowly turned around, finding her looking at her fingernails. “I suppose she must still be with Daniel. She accepted his proposal, ye know.”
Aindreas felt as if the ground had given way. He felt as if he was falling into a black pit he could never climb himself out of. “Proposal?” he breathed, not believing his own ears. “What proposal?”
Alisa’s smirk widened. “They’re going to be married, Aindreas.” She huffed while slowly turning around. “I suppose we’ll have two weddings to celebrate. Yers and Daniel’s. What a wonderful end to such a dreary summer season.”
