Page 18 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

Skye made a noise, and when he turned to look at her, she only nodded, that captivating blush still staining her cheeks.

“See ye in a week,” she said.

Dougal nodded. “See ye in a week, lassie.”

The moment Dougal was home, he gathered the household in the Great Hall. He announced, without much fanfare, that his new betrothed would arrive within a few days.

The news rippled through the room, servants exclaiming in surprise. His mother was the most shocked of all, but even she did not dare question him publicly.

Judging from the deep frown on her face, she would have quite a lot to say when she had a moment to speak to him in private.

Lily tugged at his sleeve once he finished speaking. “Da, will she like to sing?”

“I daenae ken, little one. I daenae ken her very much, ye see. This is just political.”

She puffed out her cheeks. “So ye daenae like her?”

“I daenae ken her well enough to say either way.”

“Da, that’s silly!” she giggled.

He chuckled. “Do I nae ken that.”

“It’s silly to be betrothed to a lady and ye daenae even ken if ye like her!” Lily insisted.

His smile grew. “That’s how it often works, lass.”

Lily giggled again and ran off to the kitchens.

It was moments later that his mother found him, not long after Lily’s giggles had faded down the corridor and the rest of the servants had gone back to their evening duties.

“A betrothal within a few days. Did ye nae think to mention this to me before ye left?”

“I’m telling ye now, Maither, as I said I would.”

“Aye, after announcing it to every soul in the castle first.” She shook her head, exasperated. “Dougal Grant, I wish ye had told mebefore, but now ye need to tell me about this mysterious betrothed of yers.”

“Skye MacLeod.”

“Of Clan Muir?”

“Aye.”

Kenna didn’t look convinced in the least. It wasn’t surprising, given how hard-headed she could be. He did get it from somewhere.

“And does the lass ken what she’s getting herself into by marrying into this family?”

“It’s only a betrothal,” Dougal reminded her.

“Anything else I should know about the lass?”

Dougal paused. “She’s the writer of theLion in the Highlands.”

“Is she?” Kenna repeated, humming thoughtfully. “And she is the lass ye is taking as yer betrothed?”

“Aye Maither, as I’ve said.”

When he retired to his study, Stephen was already waiting. His man-at-arms told him what had happened while he was gone and congratulated him on his betrothal.