Fulfilling Chattan’s contract or any previous offers from among his neighbours meant he would forever remain stagnant. Constant bickering over tiny strips of land was by no means his idea of progress. His fingers gripped the stone window ledge.
As the priest disappeared past the gatehouse, a knock echoed through the door, interrupting his thoughts.
“Enter.”
Calum MacIntosh swung the door wide and sauntered into the solar. His smirk implied he’d spoken to Father Addison on his way out.
“I hear congratulations are in order, Brother.” His dark eyes twinkled.
James faced the man, younger by two years, and glared. Calum’s grin broadened. He enjoyed this.
James shook his head. “Do not be absurd. I’m not marrying anyone, much less a waif who has yet to see her eighteenth year.”
“Now, now. There’s no need to be unkind. I hear Aileana Chattan has grown into quite the beauty in the last couple of years.” Calum helped himself to the remaining ale.
“I doubt that very much. Look, Calum, I have little interest in this subject, as you well know.” James crossed his arms. “I have no intention of carrying out a contract with anyone’s niece, daughter, or sister until I’m damned good and ready. While Chattan was our father’s oldest friend, my respect for him will only stretch so far. The priest was just here telling me the girl was not virginal.”
Calum relaxed into the seat Father Addison had occupied. He leaned back with his long legs outstretched as if they discussed nothing more than a tenant’s sheep count.
“That may be so, Brother, but you have a responsibility to this clan and this family. You are its chief and are expected to produce its next one.” Calum linked his hands and placed them behind his head. “In order to do that, you must stop trying to bed every loose woman in the country and marry. Wait.” Calum released his hands, sat up straight and chuckled. “You’re worried she’s not virginal? When has that ever mattered to you before? You accepted this proposal and you are honour bound to see it through since the girl has no one to care for her.” He re-linked his hands behind his head and leaned back once again. “You know if Father were here this would have already occurred.”
James had heard enough. He didn’t need a reminder of his duty. Before he died, their father had expressed his sincerest wish that his sons back the progressive Stewart. It hadn’t been easy at first. The man was bent on unifying Scotland, which meant the chiefs and nobles must relinquish some of their power for the greater good. In theory this made perfect sense, but theory meant little in the real world of the Highlands where centuries of feuds had shaped a people who would not change without a damned good reason. His father might have been swayed by Chattan’s proposal, but he would have seen more sense in James’s intentions.
“Well, Father’s not here, is he? I am Chief. And if I say I will refuse this match then that’s the way it will be.”
James refused to listen to any more of this nonsense. He would not bend, not to a priest and not to Calum. He passed his brother and crossed the room in three strides. He was almost in the hallway when Calum spoke again from over his shoulder.
“James, Clan Chattan needs your protection.”
The comment stopped him at the threshold. Raiding in the shire had increased and the Chattan estate was small and vulnerable, meaning an alliance would benefit them. There were benefits to his clan as well. Clan Chattan was a confederation of smaller ones and some had stood in battle with him before. Their loyalty would not be an issue. The extra numbers they provided would assist with surprise attacks from those damned Camerons as well.
“James, you do realize you would control the estate that includes Chattan Castle and the farms Chattan oversaw?”
James’s own lands stretched as far north as Inverness and as far east as the Cairngorm Mountains, and while these acquisitions were valuable, were they worth the personal sacrifice?
Why couldn’t Calum see ’twas impossible? It would be easy to marry someone local and ignore the affairs of their nation, but he could not. His influence was great enough that if he were to back the Stewart, others would follow, yet it was a delicate operation which took time and patience.
“Aye, but at what cost?”
His exasperated retort was enough to quell Calum long enough to provide an opportunity for escape. He descended the winding staircase of the west tower and strode through the tapestry-covered hallway toward the main entrance. These hangings also depicted various individuals in their moment of defeat. He glared at them. Damn them all!
James strode toward the stables where Arion waited. Urging the great white horse from his stall, he mounted the beast and tore off across the barren expanse outside the thick walls of the bailey, his teeth bared and his jaw set. Before long, they were enveloped in dense forest.