Ransom (40 page)

“Then marriage is the only answer.”

“That's the problem,” Ramsey said, and then quickly explained about the promise given to Bridgid's father.

“Do you mean to tell me that Bridgid decides who she marries?”

“Unless I break that promise.”

“I know you well,” Brodick said. “You won't do any such thing.”

“So what's the answer to this problem?” he asked. “Got any ideas?”

Brodick thought about it for a moment, then said, “Iain could find a place for her.”

“She belongs here. This is her home,” he argued. “She would think she was being banished.”

“She would adjust.”

“I will not hurt her tender feelings. She's done nothing wrong.”

Brodick studied Ramsey for several seconds and then said, “You care for this woman, don't you?”

“Of course I care. She's part of my clan.”

Brodick smiled. “Then why don't you marry her?”

Ramsey stood up and began to pace in front of the hearth. “Because she's in the Sinclair clan,” he explained. “I know my duty. If I am to make this union work between the MacPhersons and the Sinclairs, then I should marry Meggan MacPherson. It makes perfect sense, doesn't it? I
get what I want out of the bargain. The MacPherson land is a dowry I cannot turn down.”

“You've always been a practical man,” Brodick remarked.

“And so were you,” he countered, “until Gillian entered your life.”

Brodick agreed with a nod. “I never saw it coming.”

Because Brodick sounded disgusted with himself, Ramsey laughed. “When exactly did you know . . .”

Brodick shrugged to cover his discomfort. “When Annie Drummond poured liquid fire on Gillian's open cuts. I held her hand down so that she couldn't move during the atrocious treatment. She never made a sound.”

“Ah, so it was her bravery that captivated you.”

“No, it was the way she glared at me,” he admitted with a laugh. “Honest to God, she looked like she wanted to kill me for making her suffer such an indignity. How could I not become infatuated with such a strong, stubborn woman?”

Anthony put an end to the discussion when he announced that Bridgid KirkConnell was waiting to speak to her laird.

A moment later, Bridgid came inside. The sight of her smile lifted Ramsey's spirits, though he was amazed that she would have anything to smile about.

“Good day, Laird,” she called out as she walked forward and curtsied. “And good day to you, Laird Buchanan.”

She couldn't quite look Brodick in the eye when she greeted him, as she, too, had heard all the rumors about him and was therefore wary.

Brodick could see that he scared her, but he was impressed that, even so, she moved close to him and curtsied once again.

“Isn't it a fine day?” she asked in an effort to ward off the topic she knew Ramsey wanted to discuss.

“And what's so fine about it?” Ramsey asked.

“Oh, everything, Laird. The sun is bright and the breeze is warm. It's a very fine day.”

“Bridgid, I just spoke to your mother . . .”

She lowered her eyes and clasped her hands behind her back. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“And has she convinced you to break the sacred promise made to my father?”

She deliberately used the word “sacred,” Ramsey knew, to make him feel guilty if he had indeed done such a thing.

“No, she has not convinced me to break the promise given to your father.”

Bridgid was once again smiling. “Thank you, Laird, but I have taken up too much of your time. With your permission, I'll leave you now,” she added.

She was halfway out of the hall before Ramsey stopped her. “You don't have my permission, Bridgid. Come back here. There is an important matter to talk about.”

Brodick heard her sigh before she turned around. She obviously knew what the topic was and had hoped to avoid it.

She took her time returning to her laird. And then she simply stood in front of him, looked him in the eye, and waited for him to speak.

“There has been a request for your hand in marriage.”

“I graciously decline.”

“You don't even know the name of the man who wants to marry you. You cannot decline yet.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, though she didn't sound the least contrite. “Who is this man?”

“His name is Matthias,” Ramsey said. “He's a MacPherson, and I'll admit I don't know much about him. However, I'm certain that if you agree, he will treat you kindly.”

He waited a full minute for her to respond, but Bridgid remained stubbornly silent.

“Well?” he demanded. “What say you?”

“May I decline now?”

“For the love of . . . Do you know this man?”

“Yes, I've met him, Laird.”

“Can you not find anything acceptable about him?”

“Oh, I'm sure he has many wonderful qualities.”

“Well then?”

“I won't have him.”

“Why not?”

“Laird, are you aware you're shouting at me?”

Brodick coughed to cover his laughter. Ramsey shot him a dark look before turning to Bridgid again. He watched her brush an errant lock of hair over her shoulder in a dainty feminine gesture, and for a second he lost his train of thought.

“You try my patience.”

“I apologize, Laird. I don't mean to try your patience. May I be excused now? I've just heard that there is a lady here from England, and I must make her acquaintance.”

“Why must you?” Brodick asked.

She jumped at the bark in his voice but quickly recovered. “Because I've never been to England,” she explained. “And I have a thousand questions to ask her. I'm curious to know what life is like in England, and she is the only one who can tell me. I cannot imagine living anywhere but here, and I find myself wondering if she feels the same way
about her home in England. I have already decided that I will like her,” she added.

“Yes, you will,” he predicted.

“You have much in common with Lady Gillian,” Ramsey remarked. “You're both stubborn women.”

“Is she being forced to marry, then?” Bridgid asked, unable to mask her irritation.

Ramsey took a step toward her. “No one is forcing you to marry, Bridgid.”

“Then may I please be excused?”

“No, you may not,” Ramsey snapped. “About this Matthias . . .”

Impatiently settling her hands on her hips, she asked, “Are we back to that?”

“Bridgid, I warn you, I will not tolerate insolence.”

She was immediately contrite. “I'm sorry. I know I spoke out of turn, but I have already declined the offer.”

Ramsey didn't want to give up. “Do you realize how many requests you've turned down?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You've broken many hearts.”

“I doubt that, Laird. None of those men know me well enough to have their hearts broken. If I could get them to stop asking, I assure you I would. It's very upsetting for me to have to go through this audience again and again. 'Tis the truth I'm beginning to dread . . .”

“Dread what?” he asked when she abruptly stopped.

Her face turned pink with embarrassment. “Never mind,” she said.

“You may speak freely. Now tell me, what is it you dread?”

“The sight of you,” she blurted. “The only time you
speak to me is when you want me to hear a proposal. I know how distressing this is for you. You don't wish to waste your valuable time on such inconsequential matters.”

“You are not inconsequential.”

“But I am difficult, aren't I?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Are we finished now?”

“No, we are not. Bridgid, don't you want to get married?”

“Of course I do. I want children,” she said, her voice fervent now. “Lots of children, and I'm going to love them the way a mother should.”

“Then why have you declined so many requests? If you want to have children—”

She wouldn't let him finish. “I love another.”

The announcement took Ramsey by surprise. “You do?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Who is this man?”

She shook her head. “I cannot say his name.”

“Then marry him,” he suggested impatiently.

She sighed. “He hasn't asked me.”

“Does he know how you feel?”

“No, he doesn't. He's a very stupid man.”

Brodick did laugh then, he couldn't help it. “Yet you love him?” he asked.

She smiled as she answered. “I do. I don't want to love him, but I do, with all my heart. I must be as stupid as he is. That is the only excuse I can give. Matters of the heart are most perplexing, and I'm not smart enough to sort them all out.” Turning to Ramsey again, she said, “I will not have Matthias. I won't settle for any man I don't love.”

Ramsey's reaction to her announcement puzzled him. When she had admitted she loved another man and therefore
wouldn't accept Matthias, he was at first surprised, but that feeling was quickly replaced by what he could only describe as irritation. Though he couldn't figure out why, the thought of her loving someone didn't sit well with him. His reaction didn't make any sense. Here he was trying to persuade her to marry Matthias, and if she had agreed, would he have had the same disappointment? No, he thought, and all because he knew she would never agree.

Shaking himself out of his confusing thoughts, he said, “Tell me who the man is and I will speak to him on your behalf.”

“I thank you for your suggestion to help, but the man I love must decide without interference.”

“I wasn't making a suggestion. I was giving an order. Tell me his name.”

He took another step forward, but Bridgid stood her ground. It wasn't easy. Ramsey was such a big man his nearness was overwhelming, and she had to remind herself that as her laird, it was his duty to protect her, not harm her. She was a loyal member of his family, and like it or not, he had to look out for her best interests. Besides, she knew him to be a kind, generous man. He might scare the breath out of her, but he would never raise a hand against her.

She decided to try to turn his attention in hopes he wouldn't notice she hadn't answered his demand. “Laird, where's Michael? I haven't seen him today, and I had promised him some time ago that I would take him tree climbing.”

“Tree climbing?”

“All boys should know how to climb a tree.”

“And you think you could show him how it's done?”

She slowly nodded.

“He's staying with the Maitlands,” he said. “He and Alec
have become good friends, but when Michael returns home, you won't be showing him how to climb a tree. It's unladylike, Bridgid.”

“I suppose it is,” she agreed reluctantly.

Ramsey once again demanded the name of the man she had declared she loved.

Disgruntled because her ploy to make him forget the question hadn't worked, she said, “I don't wish to tell you his name, Laird.”

“That much is obvious,” he replied. “But you're still going to tell me.”

“No, I'm not.”

He couldn't believe she had the audacity to defy him. “I'm not going to give up,” he warned. “Tell me his name.”

The man was as relentless as a dog chasing after a cat, and she had no one to blame but herself because she had foolishly told him what was in her heart.

“You have an unfair advantage,” she said.

“How's that?”

“You're Laird,” she said. “You can speak freely, while I—”

He wouldn't let her finish. “You've been speaking freely since the moment you came inside. Now answer my question.”

His voice had a definite bite to it, and she flinched. She didn't know how she was going to get out of the corner he had backed her into.

“Unless you order me to . . .”

“I've already ordered you to give me his name,” he reminded her.

His curtness embarrassed her. She lowered her head so he wouldn't see her face and said, “I'm sorry, but I cannot tell you his name.”

Ramsey gave up and decided to let the matter go for now. He was disgusted with himself. It wasn't like him to let his temper flare with a woman. Yet, this particular woman did try his patience.

“Is it a sin to defy you, Laird?” she asked.

The question gave him pause. “No, of course not.”

She smiled again. “That's good.”

He let her see his irritation. “You know damn good and well it isn't.”

Ignoring his comment, she said, “I've taken up too much of your valuable time. With your permission, I shall take my leave now.”

She curtsied and tried to leave but he stopped her with his next remark. “If you're not going to marry Matthias, then there is another matter I wish to speak to you about.”

“There is?”

“Yes.”

She waited, but Ramsey couldn't seem to get the words out. How could he crush her by telling her that her mother didn't want her? He couldn't do it.

“I seem to have forgotten . . .”

Brodick came to his aid. “Michael.”

Ramsey glanced at his friend. “Michael?”

Brodick nodded. “You were telling me you were going to ask Bridgid to help you with your brother because of his tender years, remember?”

Ramsey leapt at the idea. “Yes, that was it. Now I remember. Michael's with the Maitlands now.”

“Yes, Laird, you already told me he was visiting with his friend.”

“Yes, I did,” he said, feeling like an idiot. “But when he comes home . . .”

“Yes?”

Ramsey looked to Brodick for help.

“Ramsey doesn't have time to devote to his brother, and he also feels that Michael needs a woman's influence.”

“Yes, that's right,” Ramsey agreed. They were both making up the story as they went along, but Bridgid didn't seem to notice.