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“Now, when are ye rebelling against yer father into forcing ye to end this betrothal?” Laila asked.
“This is somethin’ I can never rebel against, Laila,” Astrid said honestly.
“Why nae?”
“It will hurt him immensely,” Astrid replied after a few seconds. “He lost a son, his heir, and he thinks it was done by the people of this clan. I cannae blame him if it is impossible for him to forgive and forget. If I say I wish to marry Flynn, it would break his heart, and I love me father too much to cause him such pain.”
“Ye can still try. Following yer heart is the hardest thing to do.”
“And how do ye ken it would be following me heart?” Astrid asked, wondering why everyone suddenly believed she wished to keep this betrothal. “Moreover, Flynn would wish to put an end to it as well.”
“Did he say that?” Laila asked, looking at both Astrid and Daphne.
“I dinnae think he did,” Daphne chimed in, a teasing smile on her face.
“He didnae say otherwise either, and if he truly wished to keep it, he would have said something,” Astrid replied finally. “It has already been decided. I am sure we will come up with a way soon enough, and I will return home.”
“If ye hadn’t been avoiding Flynn for the past two weeks, ye would ken what he has been saying with his eyes. His expression says it all.”
Astrid sucked in a sharp breath at Laila’s words, wondering if she was right. She knew Flynn was attracted to her, but she knew he was not dimwitted enough to keep this betrothal and marry her on the basis of attraction alone.
Does he really wish to marry me?
“Can we talk about somethin’ else?” Astrid asked, shaking her head to rid herself of all thoughts pertaining to marriage and Flynn. She knew she would be thinking about him again eventually, but right now, she needed to occupy her mind elsewhere.
Laila began to discuss the progress of her vegetable garden with Daphne, and Astrid sighed in relief as the discussion went elsewhere. This entire conversation with Daphne and Laila had exhausted her. She lay down in bed as she heard the two women talk, but her mind was still on the man that dominated her thoughts entirely—Flynn.
She closed her eyes, and all she could picture was a young man dressed proudly in his kilt, sword in hand. A young man passionate and driven about the affairs of his clan. A young man who believed that he and his people had done no wrong.
She could see the young man standing before her, heart in hand, asking her to believe him that he was indeed not at fault, and if she truly wished to, she could love him.
But could she?
CHAPTER11
Flynn could not rememberthe last time he had been out on a visit to all of his clan’s villages and crops. The past ten years had been turbulent for the entire clan, and he himself had hardly ever found time to make these visits. Now that the battles between the O’Donnely and MacKie clans had ceased, he finally had the time to make the rounds.
He had needed this semblance of peace in order to focus on the work that needed to be done for his people. In the last decade, they had simply been involved in battles and wars, and Flynn, himself, had been busy with them. Now, he had finally found the time for what needed to be done.
“Me Laird, only the villages at the northern border of our clan are left to visit now.”
Flynn turned around to look at his man at arms. The two of them had been touring on horseback for the past two days, and he was mostly satisfied with how his clan was working. All things seemed to be in order.
“We are already close,” Flynn observed, beginning to quicken the pace of his horse. “I think we will be done by tonight.”
“Yer right,” Billy replied, and the two of them sped off further towards the north, where the villages on the border were located.
Just as they reached there, Flynn suddenly felt as if something was amiss. The villages were present, but the people were not dressed in the colors of his clan. Instead, they wore the colors of the Gallagher clan, which was extremely surprising for him. He knew perfectly well that this land was his and had always been a part of the MacKie clan, but the scene in front of him was bewildering.
“What happened here, Billy?” Flynn questioned, dismounting his horse.
“I dinnae understand myself, Me Laird. I will go make some inquiries,” Billy replied before speeding off on his horse.
The Gallagher clan was both weak and poor and did not have much land to its name. The Laird, Myles Park, was a sly old man, and Flynn had never liked him. The man was too cunning for his own good and an opportunist, and Flynn already knew what had happened here.
Myles had somehow taken advantage of Flynn’s ignorance and had slowly captured the villages. Flynn knew he could never let such a matter go because the amount of land Myles had captured was huge and rightfully belonged to the MacKie clan. If there was something Flynn was never going to compromise on, it was his people and his clan.
The blood in his veins was boiling as anger coursed through him, but he remained as calm as he possibly could. He knew such matters could not be handled by sheer strength or anger alone, and he would need to have a conversation with Myles to make sure things were sorted. Soon enough, he saw Billy coming back.
