There were soft murmurs in the hall for a short time. Complete silence followed soon after. One of the main members of the council walked to the front of the rest. He first bowed to Kendrick, then faced the crowd of farmers. “It has been decided.” He turned back to Kendrick. “The Laird must find a lass to marry and bear him an heir. He must do so within the next two months. If he fails, his uncle, Logan MacNeil, shall become new Laird of the MacNeil clan.”
Kendrick looked away as voices debated the council's ruling. As Laird, he had done his very best, and he would not allow the council to remove him from his position. He would not be defined by incompetence like his father had been.
The court was dismissed, but Kendrick could not find the strength to leave his seat. It was as though his legs were numb, or too weak to carry the weight of his body. Even his spirit was unwilling. He held onto the wooden arms of the chair, struggling for support as he forced himself up.
He did not know whether fear or anger fueled him now. One thing was certain: he would not sit around forlorn, waiting to be dragged out of his clan.
When he finally stepped outside, rain poured down, and the sky rumbled ruthlessly. He turned from the hall’s entrance to nestle himself into an alcove. Crestfallen, he watched the wet, muddy field outside the keep’s gates.
It was the same field he played in countless times as a child. He almost wished to return to simpler times, when he didn't have to worry about feelings, farmers, family, and the duty that went along with them. Back then, all he did was laugh and roll around with Reid and Sophia in the muck, as their laughter echoed throughout the keep.
Hearing a noise, he swiftly turned his neck to catch his uncle behind him.
“I told ye, lad. Have ye come to a decision?” Kendrick could only offer an expressionless stare. “Ye heard the council.” Logan sounded frustrated. “Ye have to make a choice at the feast in a few days.”
“Why dinnae ye decide for me, Uncle? Ye seem to desire my marriage more than I do.”
“It is for yer own good, lad. Ye need an heir to remain Laird, and ye need a fair lass to give ye an heir.” Logan put his hands on Kendrick’s shoulder, patting him gently. “I’m worried for ye, dinnae make light of that. Sophia, Lorena, or any other maiden yer age would be a fine choice.”
“I cannae make Sophia my wife,” Kendrick blurted out without much thought. It made Logan shift backward and arch his brow.
“It was only a suggestion, lad,” Logan mumbled. “I presumed it would be natural if ye felt drawn to her since ye had known her the longest.”
Kendrick did not move his sight away from the downpour. “I dinnae feel drawn to her,” he lied.
Because he had loved her once, he was unable to contemplate ever harming her the way a man harms a wife—the way his father harmed his mother. Out of love. Years ago, he had thought his heart belonged to Sophia… and he had pushed her away because of it. He knew there was no way he could accept her.
“I would say ye go for the middle one then. She is a bonnie lass, I must say,” Logan advised. “Ye make yer move, get close to her at the feast. Nae lass can resist MacNeil charm, ye ken. Nae that a laird will need to be charming at all.”
He could never fall in love with Lorena, but Logan was unaware of how much Kendrick had cherished Sophia. He didn’t know it was not Sophia’s beauty that incited Kendrick’s affection, but the rainy afternoon strolls they took together, the rides on the back of horses… the memories of her that shielded him from destruction on the days his mother’s ghost would haunt him.
Perhaps it was fated that only she could catch his attention, and he had no intention of betraying their friendship. Even the memories of Sophia could evoke the deepest of emotions in him—still. He would rather live a thousand lonely nights, than admit his past affections for her.
He didn’t notice the tear on his face before it fell.
The only way he could shield Sophia was to push her as far away as he could. He would do everything in his power to keep her safe so that he wouldn't place himself in a position where his heart could further betray him.
* * *
Lorena had spent an hour pacing around the room. She'd been pacing for three days since their father told them about the Laird's feast. Sophia's dark eyes followed her around the room, nudging her favorite planter every time she returned to it.
“Ye should sit down, Lorena. Yer movement is maddening.”
“Ye ken sister, if he chooses one of us, we would be living in hell! Imagine waking up to a man who ignores ye, it's so terrible!” Lorena collapsed onto the bed. Her dramatic side usually amused Sophia, but now it was making her evenmorenervous.
Her mind drifted to thoughts of Kendrick, and she imagined how pleasant it would be to see him again. Clearly, it was an image much different than the one plaguing Lorena’s mind. “I have told ye—Laird MacNeil is a fine man, and any lass would be happy to be his lady.”
“By chance, are ye defending him, sister?” Lorena raised a brow.
“I am nae! All I am saying is he is kind and gentle. At least I have such memories of him, and he is nae a brute.”
“Yet he grew distant from ye without reason. Do ye nae consider the possibility that he may nae longer be the young lad ye played with as a bairn? Do ye nae hear the rumors of his coldness?”
Sophia had never been one to give much credit to rumors and gossip. Besides, she knew him better than anyone who had a thing to say of his character… but she could not deny it. She often wondered about the reason he grew indifferent to her, and it was, at times, a torment. She worried that he noticed her feelings for him and that they scared him away.
“People dinnae change that quickly, Lorena.” She knew for a fact that theydid,but still, she had to defend him from her sister’s harsh remarks. “Ye should feel sorry for him instead. He is more likely a lonely laird stuck in a castle without someone with whom to share happiness or sorrow.”
“Now, I would be kind enough to offer pity, but I wouldn't want to wed such a brute.” Lorena turned to face Sophia, but she was too wrapped up in her ruminating to notice. “Are ye there, sister?” she mouthed, almost making her jump out of her own skin. “Were ye even listening to me?”