Page 49 of Claimed By a Ruthless Scot
As Iain nodded with understanding and turned back toward the window, the unease in his posture had not entirely faded, and Duncan knew why.
Lachlan MacKenzie had always been a patient man. And patient men were often the most dangerous kind.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Duncan was just about to dismiss Iain when a sharp knock struck the study door. Both men turned toward it.
“Enter,” Duncan called.
The door creaked open and one of the younger guards stepped inside, with his helmet tucked beneath his arm. In his hand he carried a folded letter sealed with dark red wax.
“Fer ye, me laird,” the man said, stepping forward.
Duncan took the letter, his fingers brushing over the heavy parchment. The seal was unfamiliar at first glance, though the crest pressed into the wax quickly sharpened his attention. A stag beneath a crown of thorns.
Fraser.
Duncan broke the seal without answering. The parchment crackled softly as he unfolded it, and the ink spilled across the page. His eyes proceeded to move slowly over the words.
Tae Duncan Grant, Laird of Castle Grant,
Word reaches me that tensions grow again in the north, and that Laird Lachlan MacKenzie has begun extending his influence farther than is wise fer any one man.
Ye will have heard, nay doubt, that I once promised me daughter’s hand tae MacKenzie. That arrangement was made during a season when such a union appeared politically convenient.
Circumstances, however, have a way of changing.
Recent developments have made it clear tae me that an alliance with Lachlan MacKenzie would serve neither me interests nor the stability of the Highlands.
Ye are therefore free tae ken that nay binding promise now stands between me house and his. If it should suit ye, I would be willing tae offer me daughter’s hand in marriage tae ye instead. Such a union would secure an alliance between our clans, an alliance that would carry considerable weight should MacKenzie attempt tae extend his reach any further.
Should ye accept, ye would nae stand alone against him. Me men, me lands, and me influence would stand beside yers.
Consider this carefully, Laird Grant.
I believe we may serve each other well.
Laird Alasdair Fraser
Duncan finished reading the letter and stood very still for a moment, the parchment loose between his fingers. The study felt suddenly smaller. Across the writing table, Iain cleared his throat.
“Well?”
Duncan did not answer at once. Instead, he folded the letter carefully, then held it out.
“Read it.”
Iain stepped forward and took the parchment. The room fell quiet again as he read. Duncan moved away from the writing table while he waited, crossing toward the window. He rested one hand on the stone ledge, staring out over the courtyard though he barely saw it.
Behind him, Iain reached the end of the letter. He let out a slow breath.
“That,” he said, tapping the letter lightly with one finger, “would solve several problems at once.”
Duncan turned fully, leaning one shoulder against the window frame. He didn’t say anything yet.
“Fraser’s men would strengthen our position considerably. Lachlan MacKenzie would think twice before moving against two allied clans.”
Duncan still said nothing.
