Page 123 of The Laird's Masked Desire
“Nay.”
The refusal came swiftly, before she had even finished speaking.
Margaret did not start. She had expected as much.
“I will nae have ye placed in the center of it,” Domhnall continued, his gaze fixed not upon her, but upon the map before him, as though the lines of land might offer him a better solution than the one she proposed.
“Me faither has already placed me in the center of it,” she replied, with a composure that might have passed for calm had it not been so deliberate.
That brought his attention to her. There was no anger in his expression, but neither was there ease. It was the look of a man accustomed to command, and unaccustomed to having it questioned where it mattered most.
“This is nae a matter fer argument,” he said.
“Nay,” Margaret agreed. “It is a matter of necessity.”
Cameron, to his credit, did not intervene, though she saw the flicker of consideration in his eyes. He understood, perhaps more quickly than Domhnall would allow himself to, that the matter could not be resolved by refusal alone.
“Me faither will nae come fer ye,” Margaret went on, feeling the weight of each word. “He has nay interest in confronting ye directly. He wantsme, because he believes I may be moved, or threatened, or persuaded where force might fail.”
“And he is wrong,” Domhnall said at once.
Margaret met his gaze.
“He is wrong,” she repeated, “but he daesnae ken it yet.”
Silence followed, brief but charged.
“If I dinnae go,” she continued, “he will act against me sister. Ye ken this tae be true.”
Domhnall’s jaw tightened. He did not answer, because he could not deny it.
Margaret allowed that silence to stand for a moment before she spoke again, more quietly now. “This is the only way tae bring him intae the open.”
Cameron shifted slightly, his attention moving between them.
“She is right,” he said at last, not boldly, but with the quiet certainty of a man who did not speak unless he meant to be heard.
Domhnall did not look at him. His gaze remained on Margaret, searching, measuring and still resisting.
“And what would ye have me dae?” he asked.
Margaret drew a breath, steadying herself not from doubt, but from the knowledge that what she was about to propose would bind them all to its outcome.
“I will go tae him,” she explained her plan. “As he has instructed. Alone, or so he will believe.”
Domhnall’s expression darkened immediately, but she did not allow him to interrupt.
“Ye will follow,” she continued hastily, “with a royal representative, one whose presence will ensure that what passes between us is nae dismissed as private grievance, but recognized as a violation of Crown authority.”
At that, Cameron’s attention sharpened.
“A witness,” he said.
“Aye,” Margaret replied. “If me faither speaks as he did before, if he threatens, or attempts tae coerce me, then it will be heard, and it will be recorded. He willnae be able tae deny it.”
“And MacGregor?” Cameron asked.
Margaret’s gaze flickered briefly back to the map.
