Page 62 of When the Laird Conquers

“I enquired, just being concerned like, but she said she was too tired to talk about it. Wee Lizzy was gripin’, and the fox had torn up that wrap she carries the babbie in, so I suppose it wasnae a good time,” Iona explained.

Gordon growled in annoyance. “I warned ye about that fox.”

“It meant no harm. I’ve put him in the kitchens for now, in a pen,” Iona protested mildly, with some regret in her voice. “But I am worried about the lass, me Laird. She looked ashen. Weary to her bones.”

Well, she shouldnae be. She slept the night away, quite content, in me arms.

He shook off the thought and replied with the short version of what had occurred in the marketplace: his swift dispatching of the three Englishmen who had tried to kidnap Lizzy, spilling blood and snapping a neck right before Agnes’s very eyes.

It rather begged the question of why she had allowed him to be so close to her at all last night. Shouldn’t she have been terrified of him after seeing his cruelty, his violence, in action?

Yet she had sought comfort from him. She had played cards with him. She had kissed him as if he meant something great to her. She had called out his name as if it were a blessed thing and not a curse. She had lain there in his embrace, sound asleep, looking so peaceful that he wished he could have captured her serene expression, to make certain his mind had not been playing tricks on him.

“I see,” Iona said, nodding. “I imagine they daenae deal with things quite so… decisively south of the border. I heard they daenae even permit men to duel to end a disagreement.”

“She was fine,” he insisted. “After she’d bathed and rested, she was fine. It must’ve caught up to her.”

He did not admit that he knew why Agnes might not be herself this morning, for that was not something that a nosey housekeeper needed to know. Especially not if Agnes had neglected to tell her already.

Iona sighed. “Aye, ye’re probably right. Poor thing. Must’ve been a terrible shock. Nae just the killin’, but the snatchin’. She must’ve felt so scared for that wee niece of hers. The fear is bad enough when ye turn yer back for a moment, and when ye look around again, yer bairn has wandered off. But to have the lassie stolen from her… Och, it’s no wonder she looks so troubled.”

She looks troubled because I crossed a boundary and I cannae step back across it.

The proverbial horse had bolted, despite what he had said to her this morning. Things could not be put back the way they were before, and that was all because of him and his stupid request when he had known that he would win the card game.

In hindsight, he should have just lost and answered whatever question she had.

“What would ye say to a cèilidh?” Iona suggested abruptly, clapping her hands together. “It sounds like the women in the village took a shine to her, so they might actually come. And if they come, everyone else will follow. Och, what a fine thing it would be to have the Great Hall full again! And I ken it would take Miss Agnes’s mind off things.”

Gordon balked at the idea, shuddering as he thought of the noise and the dancing and the insipid chatter. “I daenae ken about that, Iona.”

“Whyever nae?” she pressed. “It would be the perfect opportunity to show everyone that Miss Agnes belongs to ye now, in a safe environment that ye can control. Ye’d have yer guards keepin’ watch for Englishmen, and Miss Agnes would surely relish the chance to have some fun.”

But she’s nae mine. I told her just this mornin’ that I wouldnae claim her. That it’s all fake. That she mustnae get confused.

He cleared his throat. “She’s nae here to have fun. She’s here to be under me protection.”

“Aye, but there’s no reason she cannae do both,” Iona insisted. “Lift her spirits, me Laird. Och, and ye could invite some of the neighboring lairds too. It’s due time ye conversed with them in more than letters, and Miss Agnes might like to make friends with their wives.”

Gordon narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “Why would she need to do that?”

“Because we daenae ken how long she’ll be with us,” Iona replied, feigning innocence. “We daenae ken how determined this English duke is. He might pursue his daughter for… goodness, years!”

Gordon blinked. In truth, he hadn’t considered that when he had agreed to the arrangement. He was accustomed to fighting wars, and so his brain had assumed it would end in much the same way: swiftly and victoriously.

But then, of course, there was one great difference between those wars and this fight with the English duke: Gordon wasn’t allowed to kill the man. That was what ended disputes quickly, even if it caused a tremendous upheaval afterward, and he had been expressly forbidden.

Could she really stay here for years?

Their ruse would quickly become threadbare if that was the case. No one would believe in an engagement that lasted so long without an actual wedding, certainly not in this corner of Scotland.

He cursed silently, realizing that he might have accidentally given himself enough rope to hang himself with. How was he meant to avoid Agnes for years? How was he meant to abide by the declaration he’d made earlier if she became a permanent fixture in his castle?

“And there have been a few lairds who have married English lasses,” Iona continued. “We should invite all of them, so she has people to talk to who arenae unfamiliar. Might help with trade, ye never ken, and I’m sure it’ll cheer her up.”

“I still daenae see why she needs the familiar when that’s what she fled from,” he remarked. It did sound like a rather good argument.

But Iona, wearing a sad smile, swiftly trounced it. “Ye’re a strong laird, me Laird. Ye’ve never needed much or relied on anyone, and ye’ve never been one for company. Now, aye, our clan remains one of the most powerful in the West Highlands, but no one can have too many allies. Friends, even. Especially a young lass all alone, far from home, who has sacrificed so much.”