Page 89 of Claimed By a Ruthless Scot
That was enough to unsettle them. Not simply because he strayed from tradition, but because of what that suggested, that their laird was not looking at this as a purely strategic decision, but that something else had entered into it… something personal.
A few of the Council exchanged glances.
“If I am tae accept such an offer, it will nae be without her consent.” Duncan said, and his voice left no room for argument.
The statement settled heavily, but none of them challenged him outright.
“I will consider it,” he echoed. “Fer now, this meeting is adjourned.”
The Council rose reluctantly, the weight of what had been revealed still lingering as they began to file out. Iain remained. Duncan did not move, because though he had given them an answer, he had not yet given himself one.
The door closed behind the last of them. Duncan’s hands rested against the table, his gaze fixed on the worn grain of the wood as though the answer might be found somewhere within it. The tension in him had not eased. It had only changed direction, coiled tighter beneath the surface.
Iain watched him. He had seen this before, not often, but enough to recognize it.
“What are ye going tae dae?” Iain asked.
Duncan’s jaw tightened slightly. “I said I would consider the offer.”
“Aye,” Iain replied, unimpressed. “And I’ve kenned ye long enough tae ken when that means ye already have.”
“And what dae ye think I should dae?” he asked, finally looking up.
Iain did not hesitate.
“I think,” he said, folding his arms loosely, “that it is the strongest position we’ve been offered in years. An alliance with Fraser weakens MacKenzie and strengthens us. The Council isnae wrong.”
Duncan nodded once. “I ken.”
Iain studied him more closely then, as if trying to understand more.
“But that isnae the only thing ye’re weighing,” he added.
Duncan held his gaze. For a moment, it felt as though he might say it. Might give voice to the truth sitting just beneath the surface, the reason that decision had become something far more complicated than it should have been.
He could still remember the way she looked at him, the way she stood before him and refused to be decided for.
He banished the thought, desperate to focus on the present moment.
“She came tae us fer help,” he said instead, his voice steadying as it settled. “She asked fer protection. We gave it.”
Iain said nothing. He let him continue.
“We cannae turn that intae a trap,” Duncan went on. “We cannae take her in, offer her safety and then decide her future fer her as though she has nay say in it.”
The last thing he wanted was to be like every other man in her life.
“That isnae protection. That is nay different than what she was running from.”
Iain sighed. “Aye… that’s true.”
“That is why her opinion matters,” Duncan pointed out.
It wasn’t about strategy or politics. It was about seeing her as a human being with her own wishes and thoughts and letting her decide for herself.
“She will agree.” Iain suddenly said.
Duncan stilled. The question settled heavier than the rest. He had not allowed himself to consider that, at least not fully.
