"That too many lives have been lost? Of course I do. But women have been snatched from both clans before and forced into marriages, and worse. It's never made a blind bit of difference."
"Aye, but those women were hostages and war booty. I’m offering ye an honorable position as my lady, wife to the laird, mother of the next generation."
"Did ye tell my father this when you asked for my hand?"
"Aye. But it did me nae good. His refusal made it clear that he wouldnae give ye to me under any circumstances."
Cynicism twisted her mouth. "So ye reverted to the bad old ways and snatched me anyway? Ye talk a fine line in rhetoric, Mackinnon. But beneath all this pretense of civilization and reason, you're nae better than your murdering forebears."
He shrugged. "Ye have a point."
"So send me back, and I’ll present your offer to my father. Ye have my word on it."
He studied her, hiding his surprise. "You'd tell your father you're willing to wed me?"
The sound she made indicated scornful dismissal. "Dinnae be daft, man. Why the devil would I want to wed ye after what you've done?"
Disappointment flooded him, although he should have known that would be her answer. He'd had time to think about the implications of his plans and now he'd met her – kidnapped her, that sneering voice pointed out – he was eager to have her in his bed. He couldn't expect her to feel the same.
"My father isnae an unreasonable man." She paused, as if expecting Callum to break into a tirade accusing the Drummond chieftain of being an old villain.
But despite her calling him daft, Callum kept enough grip on strategy to hold his wheesht. Her eyes narrowed on him as if, even without him saying what he thought of Willie Drummond, she guessed his opinion. He'd dearly love a different father-in-law, but this was the only one fate offered him. He wasn't going to set up an argument about the old man's cha
racter. Or at least not now, when he wanted the old man's daughter to think kindly of him.
"I'll tell him you sincerely seek an end to the feud and that he should hear ye out."
Callum shook his head even before she finished. "Only a blood bond will break this endless round of death and retribution. I have to marry ye, lass."
She spread her hands in bewilderment. "But do ye no’ see that stealing me away only continues the madness?"
He was interested to hear her call it madness. It seemed on one thing at least they were in agreement. "It’s my only choice."
"And it will bring my father here with an army."
"Aye, it will. But nae Drummond has ever taken Achnasheen. Nae Drummond ever will. He willnae seize ye back with a siege, lassie."
"He's no’ going to forgive ye for taking me either."
"If I have his beloved daughter in my clutches, he'll come round. You're the perfect choice for the woman to heal this centuries-long rift, Mistress Drummond. All the Highlands ken how Willie dotes on his only living child, a beautiful lass born in his old age to his third wife. Mhairi Drummond, Bonny Mhairi, the Rose of Bruard."
She took no pleasure in his compliments. That wary expression remained, and the blue eyes that settled on him were bright and perceptive. Her reputation for beauty was well deserved. He hadn't expected the acute mind behind that flower face. But then hadn't she surprised and delighted him from the first?
He'd come to want this marriage as the only sane choice for his clan. But that’s not how it was working out. Or not entirely. Making Mhairi Drummond his wife wouldn't be a duty, it would be a pleasure. She was brave and loyal and passionate.
Right now, to his regret, that loyalty and passion were directed at wanting him flayed and hanging from the highest tower in Scotland. But if he could bring her around to accepting his proposal, by God, what a wife she'd make.
"All the more reason for my father to want to kill ye slowly, Mackinnon."
"Aye, at first. But once the bairns arrive, he'll soften. You're his only chance for grandchildren, my lady. Once you’ve given me a wean or two, he'll join me at the negotiating table."
The prospect of making those children with her set Callum’s blood pumping hot and strong. He could already imagine a brood of their offspring: dark-haired daughters and fiery redheaded sons. She'd be the mother of champions.
Och, she was a champion herself. The wife he wanted on her own account, not just because she was the sole hope for peace between the clans.
But all that was in the future. And only if he persuaded her to accept him as her husband. He was a million miles from that, he could see. The mention of children made that delicate chin set with disgust.
Callum was already halfway in love with her. Mhairi would love to slice off his balls and feed them to the dogs. Clearly he had some way to go to achieve his ends.