Chapter 15

15

M urdoch scowled at the empty glass in his hand and thumped it onto the table. A pitcher of water sat to one side. He tipped some into the nearby basin and splashed his face. The chill of it forced him into some semblance of alertness, but did nothing for the weariness that flowed through his blood like molasses..

Despite lying in bed for candle-marks on end, he hadn't slept a wink. His mind and the twisting in his gut refused to settle when he recalled the way Lydia had looked at him in the moonlit gardens and in his study.

She was wary of him, but she also looked upon him with curiosity and kindness. He'd sensed her sincerity in her repeated demand for sharing evening meals, and it baffled him. How could she insist on eating with him one moment, then ask him whether he'd murdered someone the next?

And then there was their second encounter in the study, or was it their third, and their confrontation over books and writing materials. That altercation had left him stunned by her boldness, both in sneaking into his study and in challenging him so forthrightly.

It had also left him with an aching manhood and a desperate need for more relief than just the relaxation of his stiff back muscles.

He almost wished he'd asked her to apply liniment to the places he couldn't reach. He'd been sorely tempted, but feared that if she touched him like that, he would lose all control. Besides, she'd fled before he could respond to her last bold sally.

Lydia was more difficult to understand than Wilma, and he'd long grown resigned to never knowing what was going on in his younger cousin's mind. The edge of desire he felt for Lydia also didn't help matters.

The few times he'd thought he might sleep, he'd been jolted out of his rest by memories of the kiss they'd shared in the corridor, and the feel of her body, warm and pliant against his own. The softness of her hair and the gentle floral scent that enveloped her made his loins tighten and his mouth grow dry.

When he thought of touching her, brushing back her silky locks and exploring that petite but well-formed figure…

Murdoch shook himself and splashed another double handful of cold water on his face, shivering as it ran down his neck. Betrothed or no, he'd no business thinking such things about a woman who'd, as of yet, shown little interest in having him.

A knock on his door startled him out of his ruminations. "Enter."

The door opened to reveal his senior man-at-arms. "Me Laird, ye told me to inform ye when Council gathered."

"And they're waiting, I take it?"

"Aye, me Laird. The final member arrived only a few minutes ago."

"Good. Tell them I'll be there momentarily." The man-at-arms nodded and vanished. Murdoch took a moment to breathe and collect himself. He poured himself a single finger of scotch and drank it down, letting the smooth burn of the alcohol settle him a little further. He set the glass down, sealed the bottle, then squared his shoulders and went to face the Elders.

When he entered, the Elders were waiting. Murdoch took a moment to study their faces. He disregarded the murmurs of disapproval that he had been absent upon their arrival.

Some Elders looked amused, even approving. Others looked worried or upset. Obviously, word of his newly betrothed, and how he'd claimed her, had already spread throughout the clan.

Murdoch was not surprised, given the loud scolding Wilma had handed to him on the matter. In any case, it meant he had less to explain and that suited him. He wasn't in the mood for explanations.

He didn't bother with formal greetings, he simply cut straight to the point. "As ye've nay doubt heard, I found the contract Master Malloy spoke of, and I've claimed fulfillment of it. Me betrothed currently resides with us, to spend time among our clan before our weddin', which will be held in one month."

Dover spoke out first, his expression fierce with all the disapproval Murdoch had come to expect from the man, no matter what he did. "We heard ye kidnapped the girl."

"Is it true she's nae the lass ye were supposed to wed? How do ye ken she's a viable match to honor the contract?"

"Did ye truly threaten her clan with war if she dinnae come with ye, without first consulting the Council?"

"Did Laird Clyde declare a feud against ye for yer discourtesy?"

"Is it true she came here with guards, because she fears for her safety?"

The questions came thick and fast and Murdoch suppressed the urge to snarl at the lot of them. The sleepless night had done nothing to improve his temper. Unfortunately, snarling and cursing at his Council would do little to improve his reputation.

Fortunately, Murdoch's uncle Arthur chose that moment to step into the fray. "Enough of this. Yer questions and concerns will be addressed, but they cannae be if ye insist on making a fuss worthy of a lot of children demanding honey cakes."

The questions and mutters slowly subsided. Once it was quiet, Gordon took up his place. "I've nae spoken much to the lass, but me sister has, so I ken a bit more about her than the rest of ye. To start with, her name is Lydia Knox."

Malloy stumbled to his feet in objection. "But the contract was for Nora."

"Aye, but since we defaulted and made nay earlier claim, the lass believed herself free to wed another, and did. Tis as much our clan's fault as Clan Clyde's." Arthur spoke up again. "And besides, tis for the best. Nora was the eldest daughter, with the strongest claim to the title of Laird Clyde. Lydia is the youngest, and her children are nae in contention for the lairdship, for her elder sisters are all wed with bairns already birthed or on the way."

Murdoch wondered when and where his uncle had come by that information. He supposed Arthur must have been busy contacting other clans and lairds, or looking up the records of highland marriages, births and deaths that most clans kept regarding each other.

"Is it true she came with guards, fearing for her safety? That ye made her feel threatened?"

"She came with one escort who intends to return to his master, Laird Clyde, on the morrow." Gordon replied. "She also has a dog, a large hound, which serves as something of a guardian, but I wouldnae say she feels threatened. The dog is often with me sister and me cousin's son, as is the lass. And he seems fair friendly, so she's plainly nae upset enough to set him on edge."

"And what of her clan? There's rumors ye threatened them into offerin' her as a bride." Malloy appeared to be the appointed spokesperson for the dissenters.

Murdoch broke his silence. "I warned them if they dinnae honor the contracted word of their previous laird, that would have given us offense and set themselves in a position for us to declare feud against them for the insult."

"So ye did threaten them. Which means if the lass is at all displeased or frightened, her kinfolk has reason to march against us." One of the other Elders scowled at him.

"Nay such thing. I negotiated the terms of the betrothal with the lass. If she's nae satisfied, then she has only to bring her displeasure to me for renegotiation."

"But ye said she's the youngest of her kinfolk. Surely her word has nay power if Laird Clyde is affronted by yer actions."

Sensing that Murdoch was within a breath of losing his temper, Gordon spoke up in response. "She came of her own will, under her own terms. If Laird Clyde was so affronted by the way the matter was handled, then surely he wouldnae have permitted her to reside here for the month before the wedding."

"There's still many a way for a man to make his displeasure kent." Malloy shook his head. "I cannae help but think that ye acted rashly, and that the lass's presence here is but a gambit before the storm rains down upon us."

Murdoch rose from his seat. He'd had enough, and he knew that if he remained to tackle their baseless fears and accusations, he really would do something rash.

Silence fell. Murdoch surveyed the faces of the Council. "Enough of these mutterings. Whatever else may be, Lydia Knox is me betrothed, in fulfillment of the alliance contract forged between the previous Laird Clyde and me father. She will remain in Lochlann Castle for one month as a guest until our wedding, or until I decide otherwise."

He met each man's gaze with his own, his voice sharp and commanding as he continued. "While she is here, ye willnae question her. Ye willnae try to make her feel unwelcome or uncomfortable. Ye willnae spread rumors to make her fearful, nay matter how true ye deem those rumors to be."

He raked them with his gaze again. "Ye will be courteous to her and treat her with the respect due the daughter of a laird, the sister-by-marriage of three lairds, and her future status as Lady Lochlann. Have I made meself perfectly clear to all of ye?"

Grumbles and nods of assent echoed around the table. He saw more than one sullen, even mutinous face, but they all spoke their agreement, and that was enough to satisfy him. "Good. Then nay more needs to be said. Ye are all dismissed."

With that, Murdoch left the council chamber, ignoring the whispers that echoed in his wake.

He'd done everything they'd asked and demanded of him and yet they still searched for reasons to find him unworthy.

He needed to get out of the castle before someone or something caused him to lose his temper entirely. He was afraid of what the consequences might be for whoever became caught in the flames of it.