Page 48 of Elizabeth Bennet and the Scottish Laird

“The engagement must be shortened.” He took a step toward her. “We shall be married at Christmas.”

She stared at him. “Christmas is barely a fortnight away.”

“I am aware of the timing.”

“It would be too close to my father’s demise,” she protested. “The neighbourhood would be scandalised. Even Lady Catherine, who has shown herself no friend to this family, objected to the January date even though three months is a relatively decent mourning period for fatherless daughters. A Christmas wedding would appear indecent. It would appear desperate.”

“Let them talk.” His voice had hardened, the Highland lilt sharpening to something brittle and strange. “Let them whisper and speculate. I care nothing for their opinions.”

“But I must care.” Elizabeth's voice rose despite her efforts to control it. “My family must care. They live here. We will depart for Scotland after the wedding, but my mother and sisters shall bear whatever reputation this marriage leaves us.”

Something moved behind his eyes, there and gone so quickly she could not identify it. “You speak as though this marriage were a burden to be endured.”

The words hung between them. Elizabeth opened her mouth to deny it, but her throat had closed around the lie.

Malcolm watched her for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then he turned and moved to the fireplace, bracing one hand against the mantel. The flames cast strange shadows across his features.

“You cannot understand the pressure I face,” he said. His voice had gone quiet, almost weary. “There are legal difficulties with the estate. Complications I have not burdened you with. Obligations that may force my hand, especially now that Darcy is involved.”

“What manner of obligations?”

He did not turn around. “The manner that will determine whether this estate remains intact or must be sold. The manner that depends upon this marriage taking place sooner rather than later.”

Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face. “I do not understand.”

“Then let me speak plainly.” He turned to look at her over his shoulder, and his expression had become something she did not recognise. Not angry. Not desperate. Simply blank, as though a door had closed behind his eyes. “The future of Longbourn depends upon this marriage taking place. If it does not, I cannot guarantee what will become of this house. Of your family. Of your mother and sisters.”

From the corner, Jane gasped.

“Are you saying...” Her voice came out thin, strange. “Are you threatening to sell my family's home if I do not agree to a Christmas wedding?”

“I am saying that circumstances may compel decisions I would rather not make.” He turned fully to face her, and his voice softened to something almost tender, though his eyes remained cold. “I do not wish to threaten you, Elizabeth. I wish to marry you. I wish to make you happy. But my patience has limits, and yesterday I discovered where they lie.”

He crossed the room toward her, and she forced herself not to retreat. He stopped close enough that she could smell the cold still clinging to his clothes, the faint scent of wood smoke and winter air.

“I am offering you a choice, Elizabeth.” His voice was soft, almost gentle. “Marry me at Christmas, and your family's future is secure. Your mother will live out her days in the home she loves. Your sisters will have dowries and prospects and a brother who will see them well settled. Or...” He let the word hang in the air between them. “Or we can wait until January, as originally planned, and hope that nothing occurs in the interim to change our circumstances.”

“What could possibly occur?”

He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. “That is precisely my point. None of us knows what the future holds. None of us knows what obstacles may arise, what complications may present themselves, what... outside influences may intervene.”

“This is monstrous.” Her voice shook. “You would hold my family's home hostage to force me into an early wedding?”

“I would do what is necessary to secure what is mine.” He reached out and touched the brooch pinned to her bodice, his finger tracing the Celtic knotwork. “Dìleas gu bràth, Elizabeth. Faithful forever. That is all I ask of you. Faithfulness. Loyalty. The assurance that you are mine, wholly and completely, and that no other man has any claim upon your heart.” His hand dropped away. “Is that truly so much to ask?”

Elizabeth could not speak. She could not move. She stood frozen whilst his words settled over her like a shroud.

Jane rose from her chair with a rustle of skirts. “Mr MacKinnon.” Her voice trembled, but she pressed on. “I must ask you to moderate your tone. You are distressing my sister.”

Malcolm glanced at her as though he had forgotten she was in the room. “Elizabeth. Forgive me. I did not intend to cause distress.” He stepped back from Elizabeth and tugged at his waistcoat, composing his features into something approaching his customary equanimity. The transformation was swift and unsettling.

“I have said more than I intended.” His voice had resumed its normal warmth, as though the last quarter hour had not occurred. “Forgive me. The cold and the strain of these past weeks have worn upon my temper.”

He moved toward the door, then paused. His gaze fell upon the slim volume where it lay upon the table, and something flickered across his face before he looked away.

“I shall expect your answer presently, Elizabeth. Consider carefully what is at stake. For your family's sake, if not for mine. Also…” His eyes narrowed. “I must ask that you limit your interactions with Mr Darcy. Under the circumstances, I believe it would be for the best if Mrs Annesley or Lady Lucas were to escort Miss Darcy to the lessons instead. I realise this is not easy to hear, and I do not make the request lightly. But I would be grateful if you would consider it — for the sake of our understanding, if nothing else.”

He looked back at her once more before he reached the door. Elizabeth saw something pass across his features, anguish or regret, or perhaps a faint echo of the man who had dropped to one knee in front of her.