When he stormed across the great hall, Rebbie fell into step beside him. “Come outside with me,” he murmured.
“Gladly.” Keegan needed fresh air. He wished one of the Murrays would punch him now. He’d love naught better than a good fight. “Damned whoreson,” Keegan growled.
Once they were in a deserted corner of the barmkin, near a high stone wall, Rebbie turned to him. “What happened?”
“He said nay.” Keegan drew in deep breaths of the cool air, trying to smother his fury.
“We expected that.”
“Exactly. He claims you have shown an interest in Lady Seona.”
Rebbie rolled his eyes. “He is a madman. You ken I have no interest in marrying her or anyone.”
“Aye. I knew he was lying.” Still, being told he couldn’t marry Seona was like glimpsing paradise only to be told he wasn’t good enough to have it. A broadsword through the gut.
At the opposite end of the barmkin, the gates opened and half a dozen riders entered, the horses’ hooves clomping on the gray cobblestones. The man in front was richly dressed in the Lowland style with brown breeches, tall leather boots, and an elaborate collar at his throat, not a stitch of plaid on him. He wore his slicked-back blond hair in a queue and an English style hat.
“Who the devil is that?” Rebbie muttered. “I’ll go find out, while you cool off out here. We must think rationally to find a solution to this problem.”
“Very well.” Keegan didn’t ken who the newcomers were, but he had a feeling they were bad news.
***
“Wentworth.” Ambrose Murray shook Baron Wentworth’s hand in the middle of the great hall. It had been a couple of weeks since he’d seen the man. He might be a suitable husband for Seona, but Murray would much prefer Rebbinglen, since his titles were far more prestigious and he was likely wealthy as Midas. To imagine his grandson one day being a marquess was difficult to ignore.
“Chief Murray, good to see you again. I have heard a rumor that your beautiful daughter, Lady Seona, has returned home. I hope to meet her,” Wentworth said with a mollifying smile.
“Aye, she is here. I’m pleased you want to meet her.”
Murray noticed Laird Rebbinglen striding across the great hall toward them. This could be damned awkward.
“Laird Rebbinglen,” Murray said. “I’d like for you to meet Daniel Wesley, Baron Wentworth.” He turned to Wentworth. “And this is Robert MacInnis, the Earl of Rebbinglen.”
“Ah, a great pleasure to meet you, Laird Rebbinglen.” Wentworth gave a tight smile, bowed, then shook Rebbie’s hand.
“A pleasure. I knew you must be someone of much import given the beautiful horse you arrived on. You must tell me where you acquired the animal.”
“Of course. ’Tis from my own stud farm.” Wentworth grinned proudly.
Murray took the two men into the meeting room and poured whisky while they discussed horses for a few minutes, certainly one of his favorite topics. But then, to his chagrin, Rebbie changed the subject.
“I came with the MacKays and the MacKenzies to escort Lady Seona home from Durness.”
“Ah. I thank you for bringing her home,” Wentworth said. “She may well be my future wife and I would like to get to know her.”
Rebbie’s black brows shot up, his gaze darting to Murray and back to Wentworth. “I see. You two are negotiating a marriage?”
“Indeed,” Wentworth said with enthusiasm. “I hear she is very pleasing to the eye.”
“Aye, she is lovely.” Rebbie rose. “Well, I don’t wish to intrude further. We can discuss horses at a later time.” He headed toward the door, but then turned back to Murray. “’Tis fortunate you were able to find another suitor for her. I know you’ve had a difficult time of it.” The blasted earl then disappeared out the door.
Murray ground his teeth until they ached. Had his chances at securing a marriage between Rebbie and Seona just dwindled to naught?
“What did he mean?” Wentworth asked, lifting a blond brow.
“Um… w—well,” Murray stuttered, trying to find the right words. “I wasn’t sure you would return or that you were truly interested in my daughter. Then Laird Rebbinglen showed up, escorting Seona home. They seemed taken with each other and I thought ’haps he wished to marry her. But now I’m not certain.”
Wentworth’s face tightened and took on a reddish cast. “Ah. So you thought maybe you could find her a better husband than me, aye? An earl.”
Murray shrugged. “The man will one day be a marquess. I’m sure you can understand my dilemma. Especially when he is interested in my daughter.”
Wentworth narrowed his pea-green eyes. “He did not appear overly interested in her. And he said you’d had a difficult time of it. What did he mean?”
“She was supposed to marry the MacKay chief, but he refused.”
“Why is that?”
“Apparently, he already had his eye on another woman. ’Haps we should ask my daughter who she’d prefer to marry,” Murray said. In truth, he had no interest in knowing whom Seona wanted to marry, but it was a good excuse to keep Wentworth waiting in the wings while he figured out a way to get Rebbie to marry her. And she certainly wasn’t marrying that Keegan MacKay nobody.
***
Just before the midday meal, a maid came to take Seona to her father’s solar, but she was certainly not looking forward to the meeting.
Seona had spent a few hours with Talia the night before, talking into the wee hours. Once Seona had returned to her own chamber, she’d found it difficult to sleep. Besides, she wanted to see Keegan in the worst way. She replayed the consoling memory of the night he’d come into her chamber and they’d shared one of the pinnacle experiences of her life.
Touching him in such a wanton, sensual way had been amazing. She loved how generous he was, showering her with affection. To know she’d given him the same kind of pleasure he’d given her filled her with joy. How she loved him.
But at the moment, she had to put Keegan from her mind and find out what her father wished to see her about. Had her aunt broken their agreement and spilled Seona’s secrets? She prayed that was not the case.
Her stomach clenched as she knocked on the solar’s heavy oak door in the dim corridor of the second floor. She hated meeting with her father for he never had good news.
“Enter,” he called in his usual brusque tone.
His bodyguard, standing outside, opened the door for her and she went in. The fire in the hearth burned brightly and late morning sunshine beamed through the window. It should have been a warm, inviting room, but the tension emanating off her father chilled her to the core. He stood by the mantel, staring into the flames.
Seona curtsied. “Good morn,” she said, trying to use the business-like voice he preferred, though inside her, a storm brewed because he had abused Talia so violently. She wished to confront him about it, but she knew if she did, she’d get the same treatment. She stayed at least five paces away from him and remained standing.
“Why did you lie to me?” He turned to her, his face a mottled red.
Seona was stunned speechless for a moment. “What do you—?”
“You are as sneaky and manipulative as your mother was!”
Angry tears pricked Seona’s eyes. Her dear mother was the best of women, not a manipulative bone in her body.
“Chief MacKay was not betrothed to Isobel MacKenzie when he arrived in Durness. Patience told me the truth of it, after I pressed her. Lady Isobel was in fact betrothed to another man when she started warming MacKay’s bed.”
Blast! How could her aunt do this? Had she also told her father about her and Keegan? Nay, she couldn’t have or her father would’ve brought that up first and been even more enraged.
“What say you?” her father asked.
Well, what could she say but the truth? “Dirk MacKay was in love with Isobel. He refused to consider marrying me.”