‘So saving your men isn’t enough to marry me?’
‘My men? I know the worth of Lochmore swords and do not expect any of our blood to be spilled.’ Another tap on the chair’s arms as he waited for her to reply. When she didn’t he said, ‘If you remember, you did not immediately agree.’
A moment of hesitation before she arched a brow. ‘We are enemies, are we not?’
Something punched through him fast and hot when she repeated his words from earlier. He thought there wouldn’t be a battle today, but perhaps he’d found a worthy one.
‘Not good enough,’ he said.
She sighed. ‘We didn’t answer your letters so obviously McCrieffs don’t agree with the transfer. Marriage would help because if we marry, the transference of land would be done without bloodshed. I, unlike you, do care if blood is spilled. Whether you believe it or not, I care about any man, whether he be Lochmore or McCrieff. I am a healer.’
He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. This brought them closer though she didn’t acknowledge it...or realise it. But he did, he was a large man, and with little effort he could yank her off the chair and on to his lap.
Clenching his hands to prevent himself from doing just that, he shook the idea from his thoughts. His inexplicable desire for this woman, for this McCrieff, had no place here.
And yet...they talked of marriage, so how could he stop his thoughts straying? ‘You would help heal Lochmore men. Are you now saying we are not enemies?’
‘We are.’ Ailsa stood and her gown gracefully fell around her, though her own movements were uneven as she secured her shears. ‘We will always be.’
He agreed, but he was surprised by her answer. ‘And yet—’
‘I agreed to marry you?’ she interrupted. ‘Know this, Lochmore, I was told of the Great Feud as well as you. Our clans have the right to hate each other.’
Maybe here were the answers he sought. ‘Such vehemence for such old history. There’s more you’re not telling me. You revealed your anger when you shouted at your father.’
She skirted around him and he felt the impatient brush of her gown against his legs. ‘This history keeps occurring. Even now, I worry about what is happening in the Hall.’
He did, too, but he was more fascinated with watching her pace the small room.
‘When did the King make the decree of McCrieff lands?’ she asked.
Her father was a fool to have kept her in the dark. Her ire was justified. Maybe was even angry at herself for not realising that something was amiss. ‘Last winter after Balliol was crowned.’
She didn’t hide the flash of incredulous anger that crossed her fine features. ‘That is why your men crossed the border to McCrieff land?’
He nodded.
‘Were they celebrating?’
They had been. He’d never seen his father in a rage before, but he had been that day. The men thought a victory had been made. That the land, just because a king decreed it theirs, was theirs. His father had pointed out when it came to bordering land that had been fought over for centuries, nothing was that clear. ‘They were punished.’
‘Two McCrieffs died that day.’
‘And you are the healer,’ he said. She didn’t act like Lochmore’s healer with her gentle ways. Ailsa was fierce. She’d likely stab Death in the heart before it came to take her clansmen away. Anyone she truly cared for she’d most likely... Then a thought occurred to him. ‘Or were you close to one of the McCrieffs?’
‘I’m close to every McCrieff. I care for them all.’
Not a lover or a husband, then. Still, her pacing seemed to increase as he asked his questions. There was more here. As the son of the Chief, he, too, cared for his clan, but losing a clan member would be different from losing Paiden. If that had occurred, it would be a loss he would roar against until his dying day.
‘Did you lose someone else?’
She suddenly hugged her body, her hands roughly rubbing her arms as if she was chilled. ‘We should be talking about my father’s proposal for us, not my childhood.’
‘Your childhood?’
She made a sound of frustration, of anger. ‘You don’t deserve my secrets, but know that I have just cause for my reservations about this marriage,’ she said. ‘But even then, I ask you, can you not see the benefits?’
His body recognised the benefits. His desire couldn’t avoid them. That red hair and rosy lips. Those blushing cheeks. Her fiery temper.
Even now when he was refusing such connection to her, his body conjured images. How he’d wrap the flames of her hair around his fist as he plundered those lips, as he coaxed her to her knees...
Hands suddenly greedy, he clasped them before she could tell what was truly in his thoughts. Her. She talked of past deaths and he could only think of her. Her father was foolish or maybe wise to leave them in this room together...alone. The small unadorned room only highlighted her worth and he kept noticing it.
‘You don’t want more deaths, Ailsa. I understand. But your father prevented McCrieff deaths when he confiscated our weapons,’ he said. ‘Of course, he could kill us. How would I know, since this is our first meeting?’
‘As if you’d simply let him. You’re wasting time, Lochmore.’
Until her father’s return. Her father had made it all too easy for them to come to McCrieff land. Now he understood why.
Sighing, Ailsa continued, ‘We know nothing of each other, but that matters not when it comes to our clans. If we marry, no one dies.’
‘Perhaps today, or for the next sennight, but distrust and animosity between our clans runs too deep,’ he stated.
‘Marriage is permanent. The change would be permanent,’ she said.
‘One was tried before and failed. And we all know whose fault that was.’ Legend had it that a woman who had promised to marry a McCrieff had married a Lochmore instead. True or not, it was also well known that the McCrieffs retaliated and relations deteriorated from there.
A slight frown. ‘What is known and what is speculated does not matter. The fact is we can start anew.’
If she had experienced the deaths of people she cared for, how could she believe so naively? Frederick, the Tanist, proposed it, but he also said he would remain Tanist and that nothing was a guarantee. ‘Did you not hear your father? This is not about starting anew. This is about preserving McCrieff power.’
‘That’s why you care,’ she said. ‘Not for lives, but for power.’
Power was everything. Lochmores were given McCrieff land because they held more power. For once, he’d like control of his life. With power, he could.
‘Don’t you care about it? You want to marry and, by doing so, you preserve the land you have regardless if the King says it is Lochmores. I could not wage battle against your family. Further, you also probably prevent King Edward from taking any more away.’
She opened her mouth, closed it abruptly.
‘You didn’t think that?’
‘I told you why I want it. For lives, which appears to be nothing you care about.’ She fingered the shears around her belt. ‘It doesn’t matter. In the end, the outcome is the same. Two people who have...position and influence in both clans marry.’
‘You think I gain power by marrying you though your father said otherwise?’
‘You certainly don’t lose it. There would be no fight over the land by