Page 49 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

“I’m nae sure I ken what ye’re tryin’ to say,” Cameron said, cutting a morsel of mutton with precision. Before he brought it to his mouth, he met Marian’s gaze, then Lachlan’s. “There wasnae time for anythin’ more than tellin’ her what was expected of her in the arrangement.”

“Which is all the more reason to have a celebration now,” Lachlan said, a knowing flash crossing his features. It made Cameron tighten his hold on his utensil, irritated that his cousin would not even attempt to sympathize with him. “I’m sure that many clan lairds would be interested in makin’ the trip. I daenae think I’m the only one surprised to see ye wed.”

“You should invite Laird and Lady McDonald,” Marian said, softening her voice. She seemed to pick up on the cloud of frustration settling on Cameron’s shoulders. “I think that Margo would enjoy being in the company of English ladies.”

“Margo is nay like the English ladies that ye’d invite,” Cameron objected.

Immediately, he realized just how controlling the command was. He sounded like his father, caging the woman he was married to. That wasn’t his intention, though he wasn’t sure how to articulate his worry.

It’s because she’s more like a Scottish woman than an Englishwoman, nae because I daenae wish for her to socialize.

“I’m nay tellin’ ye that she shouldnae meet them,” Cameron amended when neither of them responded. “But she speaks Gaelic fluently. From what I’ve seen, she kens how the Highlands work and doesnae question the way we operate. And she’s quite comfortable with the customs here already. I believe her mother taught her all of the old traditions before she died.”

He knew that he’d said too much, but it seemed that his staunch refusal to think about her had backfired. Still, he held his body with the confidence of a commander.

Marian smiled, soft and disarmingly understanding. The enthusiasm was still there, but it was gentled by her knowing tone when she said, “Even if Margo fits in well, she was still raised in English society. So, trust me. She may love Scotland and fit in well here, but she’ll still appreciate having friends that understand where she is coming from. Society there is more ruthless than the most terrifying Highlander I know.”

She reached over then, her hand finding Lachlan’s under the table. He saw the subtle shift in his cousin’s shoulder that confirmed he was holding onto her. Both of them looked at him like they were seeing right through him. It felt like a more effective attack than anything his enemies had ever launched against him.

“As I said,” Cameron stated after a long moment, “I amnae arguin’ against her meetin’ anyone. I am sure she will be glad to ken more ladies.”

“Which is all the more reason for ye to host a ceilidh,” Lachlan said, slamming his free palm against the tabletop as if to prove his point. “She should be properly introduced and celebrated, aye? Especially if she’s truly as used to the customs here as ye say she is. We are welcomin’ her back to her motherland.”

“Lachlan’s correct, Cameron,” Marian said, her grin morphing into something warmer. It was an expression that he’d only seen the woman wear around his cousin. Her eyes softened, the corners of her mouth curved up ever so slightly. “And she will get to show off her wedding gown.”

“She dinnae have a gown for the weddin’. We were married in our road clothes,” Cameron said, realizing just how transactional the event had been as soon as the words left his lips.

That is all this marriage is, though. It was better that she dinnae have any false illusions.

“Her road clothes?” Marion repeated, sounding as if she could not quite believe what she had heard. “You mean to say that in addition to having a rushed marriage, she did not even get to wear a nice gown to mark the occasion?”

“There wasnae time to wait on the seamstress,” Cameron said, the defense feeling righteous. The contract stated that they must produce proof of an heir within a month. Commissioning a new dress for the wedding would have pushed the event back by at least a week. “The weddin’ had to take place promptly.”

Though, I cannae say that hurryin’ the nuptials did anythin’ to help fulfil that.

“But ye dinnae even give her time to settle?” Lachlan said, his cousin’s surprise acting like a cool bucket of water to the face. “Ye simply brought her inside and had the priest perform the ceremony?”

“Ye make it sound as if it were the worst thing I could have done,” Cameron replied, unable to keep himself from getting defensive. “There is much more at play than a simple union. I was doin’ me best with the circumstances that I found meself in.”

For a moment, it seemed as if the entire Hall went silent. Several clan members lingering after their meal rose quickly and hurried from the room. When the thrum of conversation resumed, Marion made a thoughtful noise.

“I am quite sure you were doing what you thought was best,” she said, careful to avoid sounding as though she were passing judgment. “But it would seem you have neglected to consider Margo as more than just a piece of the puzzle. She’s putting it together with you.”

Cameron’s throat clicked around nothing, his mouth going dry. All at once he felt too exposed, like she had identified a massive blind spot in his combat plan. Retreat called to him, promising that he could safely lick his wounds, but that wasn’t an option here. This was the kind of adversary that he could not run from.

“And ye believe that a ceilidh is the solution,” he said finally.

He had already agreed to it in his mind. Marion and Lachlan could be relentless when they set their mind to something. And, on a deeper level, he knew that a celebration would be good for Margo’s spirit.

I have nae patience for gatherin’s like this, but I must think of me people’s well-being.

“It’s nae a solution,” Lachlan said after a long pause, pulling Marion closer to him. “But it is the beginnin’ of one. Without even discussin’ the personal aspect of it, ye have to start with a strong foundation.”

“And that,” Marian said, cutting through the almost somber aura that had started to engulf their table, “is why we must plan the most wonderful ceilidh the Highlands have ever seen.”

Cameron scoffed, finally letting his body relax. He leaned back in his chair, dropping his fork and folding his arms over his chest. Marian took his posture as permission to begin the planning, and Lachlan seemed glad to let her take the reins.

As she chattered about the food they’d serve and which musicians should play, Cameron could not help but think this would do nothing to fix the real problem. His clan needed Margo’s dowry. Throwing a ceilidh would not alter the fact that he didn’t know how he could convince her father they had held up their end of the contract, especially when they had not lain together.