Page 71 of Promised to the Forbidden Laird

Finlay’s face reddened. “The King has refused that release.”

“The King can declare the agreement lawful. He cannae command trust intae existence.”

“Trust isnae required for marriage.”

“It is required for mine.”

The answer came more fiercely than Roy intended. He felt every gaze in the hall settle upon him, but only Donaldina’s mattered. Her eyes searched his face as though she expected to find some concealed strategy there.

There was none. Only the truth he had resisted since crossing the threshold of Dun Ard.

Roy could compel her obedience. He did not want obedience. He wanted the woman who argued across council tables, laughed among bees and challenged warhorses with children at her side. He wanted the hand that found his beside Lachlan’s cairn without duty forcing it there.

If Donaldina came to him, she had to come as herself, not as the final term of an old contract.

Malcolm looked toward the royal messenger. “And what will His Majesty say of such delay?”

The messenger folded his hands before him.

“His Majesty ordered that the accord be fulfilled. Nae date was specified.”

Finlay made a sound of frustration. “Cormac will use this.”

“Cormac uses breathing,” Donaldina said quietly. “That is nae argument tae stop.”

Every face turned toward her. She looked at Roy. The parchment trembled once within her hands before she steadied it.

“How long?” she asked.

Roy understood the question.

“How long will ye wait?”

“As long as required.”

“Months?”

“Aye.”

“And if I never choose it?”

The words struck him harder than steel. Roy considered that possibility many times, usually in the hours when sleep refused him and the castle seemed filled with the sound of her footsteps somewhere beyond his reach.

He could lie. He could tell her she would choose him, as he had once arrogantly told her she would regret the petition. He could hide fear beneath certainty and call it confidence. Donaldina deserved better.

“Then I will honor yer answer.”

The council erupted.

“This is madness.”

“The alliance⁠—”

“The King⁠—”

“Silence,” Donaldina exclaimed.

The command cracked through the hall. The councilors obeyed. She looked down at Lachlan’s seal once more. Roy saw the struggle within her: grief for the brother who had chosen this future, anger at the Crown which insisted upon it, and something quieter that she was not yet prepared to reveal.