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Authors: Taming the Highland Rogue

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Chapter Six

Jocelyn watched as first confusion then anger filled
his dark eyes. How could she explain why this was so important to him without
angering him? He was a man, a man who loved his wife, but first he was laird and
responsible to and for everyone who lived under his protection. Jocelyn knew he
deliberated and carefully considered every decision he made, but she knew that
the best interests of the clan were first in his mind always.

Even now, he had resorted to using their physical relationship
to get an answer from her. Not that she minded being driven mindless with
pleasure by him, but Jocelyn understood his motives and his methods after all
these years. But now that her efforts had been exposed and now that he asked for
her reasons, mayhap he would be trying to understand them.

“Are you unhappy in our marriage, Jocelyn?”

She closed her eyes and felt the tears gathering. Just when she
thought him to be acting like a cold, emotionless man, he surprised her. Her
heart warmed as she realized he was worried that she sought an end to their
marriage.

“Nay, Connor,” she said, reaching out and touching his face.
“Never,” she reassured him.

“Then who? Marian? Margriet?” He ran his hands through his hair
and stared at her. “What woman is unhappy? And what do you seek in the box?”

She walked over and picked up her discarded gown and chemise,
but they were hopelessly wrinkled and could not be worn until brushed clean. She
went to her trunk and chose new ones because they would still need to return to
the hall below. And so that she would not face him undressed. He found a shirt
and tugged it over his head and waited for her to face him.

“Every time you arrange a marriage contract or send Duncan to
negotiate, you risk someone’s heart,” she explained. “Just as mine was, and
yours. Just as Ailsa’s and Angus’s were. And you look at everything you deem
important in doing so, but you never think about whether they will be happy or
not.”

It sounded like a feeble argument in light of the serious
things he did consider, but having witnessed some disastrous marriages over the
last five years, ones made for the good of the clan, it was her reason.

“And who have I served so badly? I can think of no one whose
husband or wife was my choice whose marriage did not turn out well.” He crossed
his arms and glared at her now. “You question my ability as laird with your
accusations.”

“Darcha MacLerie.”

She’d not wanted to remind him but how else could she convince
him there were other issues important when marriage was being arranged. To give
him his due, he grimaced at the reminder of the unhappy situation of his cousin
whose husband turned out to be an angry, cruel man.

“Jocelyn…” he began. He stopped because there was no way to
refute the fact that that particular match had been made over the objections of
his cousin and in spite of her own words advising him not to follow through with
it. “I’d given my word as the MacLerie and had no reason to demand the contract
be canceled.”

“That was the reason we began our…undertaking.”

“We? The three of you then?”

“There are four, but Margaret has been distracted of late due
to Ailsa’s wedding.”

“My sister is involved in…what exactly are you all involved
in?” he asked again. He glanced over at the strongbox and the key he yet
clutched in his fist.

“We help you find the right husband or wife when someone in the
clan is to be married.”

No matter what reaction she’d expected, the one she received
was a surprise to her, for Connor blinked and then blinked again and then began
to laugh. Soon, he was bent over at the waist, laughing so hard that tears began
to leak from his eyes. Now it was her turn to cross her arms and demand an
answer.

“What is so humorous about successful matchmaking?”

He shook his head and rubbed his hand across his face. “I
thought it was something else completely.” A wave of what seemed to her to be
relief filled his gaze and she wondered what he
had
thought was going on. Then that expression fled, leaving behind the lairdly one
she recognized when he was about to
declare
something.

“Jocelyn, surely you do not think that you have been choosing
spouses for our clan? Those marriages I arrange are to strengthen the bonds we
the MacLeries and our allies. Or to make new alliances. Or to add to our lands.”
He looked supremely satisfied with himself and rather than trying to slap the
smug expression from his face, she brought up their latest success.

“Ailsa and Angus.”

He looked at her and shrugged. “Are you claiming credit for
their marriage?” She nodded.

“Do you remember who you originally chose as her husband?”

She waited for him to remember how things had progressed in
those negotiations and what had changed his mind about his niece’s future
husband. When he did, the expression on his face turned to the one that he wore
when tasting something he did not like.

“Exactly! We were the ones who suggested Angus to you when we
read—” She stopped before revealing their methods.

“That his father owed us money. That he would forgo asking for
a large dowry in exchange for forgiving that debt,” he finished. His gaze
narrowed. “You have been searching old contracts.”

Rather than denying it, she admitted the truth. “Aye. And
looking for possible matches. Then we try to find out more about them and even
meet them or introduce them before we try…”

“Trying to influence me?”

“We prefer to think of it as counseling you,” Jocelyn said.

“Why did you do this behind my back? Why not simply tell me
your reasons?”

“Because you have ignored my advice on these matters in the
past when I tried to do that. And because we try to find matches we believe will
begin or end with love,” she said with a sigh. “With our own children facing
marriage, we did not want to leave it to chance.”

“Ah,” he whispered. “Now I see why you are doing this. Your
fears about losing our children to other clans is weighing heavy on your
heart.”

Just like a man to see the barest of reasons and to scoff at
something as important as love. No matter his own deep feelings for her and
their children. To admit love was important seemed in his mind to be admitting
to a weakness. And worse, he tried to deny its significance when she knew he had
made a critical decision based on his love for her while she lay near to death
in childbirth. Now, he acted as though she did not know or remember his
declaration for her.

“That is part of it, but we want our children and any in the
clan to find a full measure of happiness if we can arrange it so, if we find a
suitable match.”

“You were doing that today, were you not? All three of
you?”

He had noticed them then. “Aye. We found several potential
matches for Ciara and wanted to be ready when you and Duncan begin to look for a
husband for her.”

Connor laughed then, feeling a bit foolish for the jealousy
he’d felt as she spoke to so many young men at the feast this day and for
worrying that she was unhappy in their own marriage now. Jocelyn believed that
she and her friends could find more suitable matches for their marriageable
children and clan. When he thought on it, his original choice for his niece
would have been a mistake, as much of theirs of Angus was a superb one. Damn!
Could she be right? Must she be right?

“Love is not reason enough to base marriage agreements on,
Jocelyn. You must know that,” he argued. Guilt stabbed him as he pushed away the
realization that he did indeed consider such things, but could never admit it to
anyone.

“But it can and must be a consideration.”

He let out an exasperated breath. He did keep the person
involved in mind and did try to make suitable arrangements, but he expected
those who were his responsibility to accept his wisdom and judgment in such
matters and to do what was best for the entire MacLerie clan. Love, though he
had truly found it with Jocelyn, was not something he strove to ensure when he
offered contracts and agreements, he reminded himself even as he tried to
convince her.

“You place too much importance on personal choice.”

“And you place not enough, Connor.”

A stalemate, much as when they played chess.

He looked over at her and knew her heart was in the right place
in this, though he did not agree with her methods or that she’d kept all this
from him. Why could women not simply be forthright and speak their minds? And
better still, why could they not accept when they were wrong?

Now that he understood what she was doing there would be time
to discuss this and come to some arrangement that would have her less worried
about their children’s futures and not skulking about and searching through
records in the dark of the night like a thief. But this was not the time and
Connor was certain that their absence had been noted by now.

“Come,” he said. “I must give the couple my blessing and send
them on their way. Finish dressing and we will talk more about this on the
morrow.”

She reached for her brush and he took it first. He did enjoy
the feel of her hair and liked brushing the snarls he’d caused from its auburn
length. He noticed that she closed her eyes as he did so and, for a moment, he
thought she’d fallen asleep. When done, he stepped away and watched as she
finished dressing and then quickly and efficiently fashioned it into one thick
braid. Within minutes they descended the stairs and entered the hall hand in
hand.

Though he felt more at ease, Connor could not ignore that all
this had been going on for some time and he’d never noticed. Clearly, his wife
and his friends’ wives were talented at subterfuge when they put their minds to
it—a frightening realization. Had they truly gathered such critical information
about their allies and their marriage needs and then plotted to make matches as
they saw fit?

Ailsa and Angus approached, hand in hand also, and smiling as
their expressions filled with love each time they looked at one another.

Could the women be right?

Those in the hall quieted as he climbed the dais with the
newlywed couple. He offered words of encouragement. He offered them the best
wishes of everyone in the clan. He offered them words of wisdom about married
life. And when he wished them all the happiness that love could bring them, he
was struck by the truth of Jocelyn’s words.

Their eyes met as he finished and she smiled, as though she
knew what he had realized. When Duncan and Rurik and their wives entered the
hall a bit later, Connor noticed that the women each had the soft afterglow of
being well loved and his friends looked much at ease. He laughed aloud, gaining
their attention and their glares. After the young couple left and as the
servants began to clean away the remnants of the meal and celebration, Connor
gathered the others, along with his sister Margaret and her husband, Hamish,
together at table.

Duncan began to speak to Hamish in a low voice and Connor
watched his brother-by-marriage’s reaction to the news that they’d been
manipulated by their wives. When Margaret reminded him of their daughter’s
happiness in the match, his eyes softened. Laughing, he wondered aloud if the
women could indeed make better decisions about such matters than the men
could.

“Connor?” Jocelyn said in a tone that caused chills to tease up
and down his spine in warning.

“Jocelyn?” he replied, trying to keep his concern out of his
voice. Trouble was coming his way now, he knew it.

“If you all believe it foolish and that we women could not
possibly make better choices for spouses for our children, would you agree to
allow us to continue to see who is truly better at finding spouses?”

Though she said it softly in a sweet and sultry voice, the
challenge was clear as though screamed out for all to hear. The other three men
sat up straighter and looked at him. He must accept such a challenge in order to
keep his honor…and peace in their marriages.

“Why would I do that, wife?” he asked, straightening up and
trying to appear more intimidating. From the women’s lack of fear, he’d failed
at that, but it was better to know the parameters of this endeavor from the
outset.

“Because I think that you truly care. Just as the other
fathers
who will be in charge of such matches do,” she
said, that love flashing in her eyes as she spoke so strongly about their
beloved children’s happiness. “And I believe that you all worry over such
trivial matters such as the happiness of our children just as much as their
mothers
do.”

The other men shifted in their seats and Connor fought the urge
to do so. None wanted to admit to their true feelings, but none wanted to deny
them either.

“And how will we know if it was the correct decision?” Rurik
asked.

“A year after each marriage we will ask the couple if they
would do it over if they had the chance. Aye or nay, we will know the truth of
it,” Margriet offered. Connor wondered if a year would even be necessary, for
true love would be apparent long before that.

“I think that the mother of the child involved should not
participate,” Duncan added. Connor thought that made sense—the mother would be
too close to the child involved to make logical decisions.

“Not fair,” Marian muttered. Her daughter would most likely be
the first in this contest. They laughed at her disgruntled expression. “Then one
of the men, not the father, should also not take part. To make it fair,” she
offered.

A child’s father could never be excluded from being involved in
such discussions and agreements, but they could even out the balance by omitting
one man during each match. He looked at the other men, who nodded at him.
“Agreed.”

“Only if you agree that we—” Jocelyn glanced over at the other
women “—have full access to all the existing and future contracts of the
clan.”

BOOK: Terri Brisbin
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