He saw any impulse to smile leave her. "Aye, ye had."
"If ye wed me today, your name will suffer nae injury. Your kinsmen can return home with the news that Mhairi Drummond is honored as my wife and the Lady of Achnasheen."
He was grimly aware that what he’d done last night took him perilously close to breaking his word. He'd told her he wouldn't force her into a wedding, but she'd hate the gossip which would flow from their dramatic departure from supper.
"No," she said. "I willnae marry ye, Mackinnon, even if the world calls me your strumpet."
"Then take the consequences," he said in a hard voice.
She tried to tug her arm from his grasp. "Dinnae touch me."
"I want your kinsmen to see us together."
"If ye expect me to gaze up at you in adoration, you're asking too much."
Aye, he was, and more was the pity. He'd give half his fortune to see that. "Your kinsmen need to ken that you're alive and well. Anything more is up to ye."
As they descended the last few steps, she went back to bristling with hatred. They entered the great hall where a small group of men in the green and yellow Drummond plaid waited. Callum's kinsmen lined the walls, observing the outsiders with hostile eyes. Reminder, should he need it, of how far he still had to go to end the feud.
In accordance with tradition, the Drummonds had left their weapons at the gate, while the Mackinnons remained armed. He couldn't blame the visitors for looking like mice invited into a cats' club.
A tall man with the same red hair as Mhairi stepped forward. He knew John Drummond vaguely from previous negotiations. "Mhairi, lass, are ye unharmed? Your father is fair fashed with fear for ye."
At Callum's side, he felt her poised to run to her cousin. "No," he said quietly. "Stay with me."
She shot him a quick look, then with one comprehensive glance took in the situation. If her kin made any unwise move, there would be a bloodbath. Callum felt her ease back, although her eyes brimmed with resentment.
"Aye, John, I'm unharmed," she said clearly. "And so far, treated with all appropriate honor."
It was a direct challenge to any talk about her sleeping in the laird’s bed. Callum saw the Drummonds share a look that hinted they'd already heard a different story.
"I'm pleased to hear it, cousin," John said, as Callum escorted Mhairi to the two tall oak chairs at the head table. Last time they’d been here, she'd tossed what felt like half a barrel of wine over him. Reminder to beware of her temper.
He pulled out her chair and settled her next to him. Given what happened last night, he was on edge about how she might react. But there was a sharp brain behind those brilliant blue eyes. He had to trust she wouldn't do anything rash.
John Drummond stepped up in front of the table, his attitude all arrogance. "Mackinnon, the Laird of Bruard desires to have his daughter back. He’s willing to pay a thousand guineas in gold or goods or cattle, however ye wish to receive it."
A shocked silence descended on the hall.
God’s teeth, that was a fortune and would beggar the Drummond treasury for years to come. Brian wasn't his only spy in the enemy castle. All told him the same thing. Over recent years, Bruard hadn’t prospered.
"That's a verra generous offer," he said slowly.
"Aye, it is. But my cousin is the light of her father's life. He also charged me to say that you’ve sinned against chivalry and stealing the lass away will stain your reputation in the Highlands for the rest of your days."
That sounded more like the Drummond bluster he was used to. The old man's disdainful response to his request for Mhairi's hand had been brusque in the extreme, impugning him and his clan as lower than a snake’s belly.
"That's as maybe. Do ye have this offer in writing?"
"Aye." John gestured to the man beside him, who approached to lay a rolled parchment on the table before Callum. With a deliberately negligent gesture, he broke the seal with the Drummond crossed claymores and read the letter. It repeated in more elaborate language what John had said. A clerk had written the body of the message. William Drummond had signed, and his rage was visible in the spattered ink where he’d pressed the quill too hard on the parchment.
After a pause designed to remind John that the power in this particular transaction was all his, Callum rolled up the letter. "I shall consider the offer."
"But…" Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Mhairi turning to him in astonishment. Then she fell silent.
Aye, he'd been right to trust to her common sense. Any arguments or protests would wait until they were alone. A public disagreement in front of her cousin might spark violence. Under the thin veneer of courtesy, John Drummond was fuming.
"As ye will, Mackinnon," he said with a bow that felt more like a slap in the face than a mark of courtesy.