Page 30 of Promised to the Forbidden Laird

Roy looked away. That was the truth of it. He wavered on the idea of marriage, the accord, and every thought that considered Donaldina part of his future. Yet, when Cormac touched her, there was no doubt—only decisive action.

Hamish studied him. “Ye can call it duty, if ye like.”

“It was.”

“Duty doesnae usually make a man watch a woman from across a feast as though the rest of the hall has vanished.”

Roy’s jaw tightened. “I was watching Cormac’s supporters.”

“Of course.”

“And she remains vulnerable.”

“Aye.”

“And stubborn.”

“Certainly.”

“And inclined tae walk directly toward danger if someone advises her against it.”

Hamish smiled. “A terrible woman.”

Roy remained silent. The wind brought the smell of salt and peat smoke from the chimneys below. One of the upper windows stayed lit, which he knew, without needing to ask, was Donaldina’s chamber.

The knowledge troubled him. More troubling still was the thought of that window dark, the chamber empty and Donaldina gone from Dun Ard because the King granted her petition.

Roy believed he could honor such a choice. He still meant to. Yet, honor and ease had never been closely related.

“I expected tae return home after the accord was settled,” he said quietly.

Hamish waited. Roy’s fingers tightened upon the stone.

The accord had been simple enough when it was written. Lachlan would remain laird of Dun Ard, and Donaldina would leave her brother’s hall to join Roy at Black Craig. The marriage would bind the clans without altering the rule of either.

Lachlan’s death had broken that design as surely as war had delayed it.

Donaldina could not simply abandon Dun Ard now. She was the last of its ruling blood, and the MacNicols looked to her even when their pride prevented them from admitting it. Yet, Roy could not remain indefinitely upon MacNicol land while Clan MacIver waited at Black Craig for the laird who had already been absent too many years.

Marriage would no longer mean bringing one woman into his clan. It would mean finding some way to govern two clans, two strongholds and generations of men taught to regard one another as enemies.

“The thought of leaving Dun Ard without her troubles me more than I expected,” Roy admitted. “But taking her from it wouldnae settle the matter either. Lachlan was meant tae rule here. She was meant tae come to Black Craig with me.”

“And now?” Hamish asked.

Ray looked toward the dark outline of the castle beneath them. “Now, neither clan can be asked tae surrender its chief. We would have tae find a way tae hold them both.”

The words disappeared into the wind almost as soon as he spoke them. Hamish did not laugh. That mercy was perhaps why Roy kept him beside him all these years.

After a moment, Hamish looked toward the glowing window. “It will be difficult tae untie two clans with a woman determined nae tae marry ye.”

Roy followed his gaze. “I already told her she would regret it.”

“Aye. Women are greatly persuaded by a man announcing he understands their minds better than they dae.”

Hamish tapped him once on the shoulder and kept walking along the wall. Roy stayed by the parapet. Below, the sea relentlessly battered Dun Ard as it had for generations, trying to wear down the stone into surrender. Roy had always admired stone for its resilience. It holds its ground and withstands anything that hits it. However, two strongholds cannot be conquered beneath the same roof, and two clans cannot be united just because a king has sealed a decree with wax.

That night, Roy found himself wondering how long even the hardest thing could resist being changed and whether change always had to mean surrender.