Jane considered this. “Both, I think.”
“Then I’m attending,” Isobel said. “Help me dress.”
* * *
The council chamber was already full when she arrived.
Every man who typically sat at that table was there. Hamish stood at the far end where Malcolm had always stood, which Isobel noticed immediately. Alasdair was at the head. He had not slept, or not much. She could tell from the set of his jaw that he was exhausted. He looked at her when she entered, and something briefly shifted in his face before his attention returned to the room.
She sat beside Lady Branwen, who was already there, already watching everything.
“Ye look dreadful,” Lady Branwen said quietly, without turning her head.
“Thank you,” Isobel said.
Alasdair rose. The room went quiet.
“First, let me clear up some unfinished business. This morning I heard word from one of me trackers. Evan McDonough has been found and put to death for his crimes against our clan.”
The men in the room thumped their fists on the tabletop while nodding their approval.
“Now that one debt has been paid, I must tell ye all about another.” He inhaled deeply before proceeding. “Ye ken what happened last night,” he said. “Or ye ken the shape of it. I’m goin’ to give ye the rest.”
He told them everything—Malcolm’s father, the double allegiance at Culloden, the bloodshed, and the baby left on a doorstep. The exiles in the hollow. The fire in the library used as a distraction. He spoke of how Isobel had been taken from her chamber through a passage Malcolm had been preparing for weeks. He laid each piece flat on the table and let the room absorb it.
Nobody spoke. No one looked at anyone else. One of the older council members, a man called Nairn who had sat at this table since Alasdair’s father’s time, had his hands clasped in frontof him on the table and did not move them for the entire recounting. Isobel watched him and thought about how many times he must have sat beside Malcolm.
“Hamish MacKenzie is the rightful heir to the MacKenzie holdin’. His parents were murdered for the title before he was a year old. He was raised in this castle without kennin’ what he was owed, because the men who kent were either dead or paid to be silent. That ends today.” Alasdair looked at Hamish. “The holdin’ is yers. The council recognizes it. The Elders will be informed this week.”
Hamish looked at him across the table.
“Thank ye.”
“Daenae thank me,” Alasdair said. “It’s yers.”
He turned back to the room.
“Now, we must discuss Thomas Graham,” he said, and Isobel sat up slightly straighter at the mention of her father. “His name has been used as a liability against this clan, his debts cited as a weakness in this alliance. Those debts are cleared as of this mornin’. His name is restored. Anyone who raises it as a matter of clan concern will answer to me directly.” He looked around the table. “Is that understood?”
A murmur of assent moved around the room, the kind that happened when men were less agreeing than acknowledging they had heard.
“Good,” Alasdair said. “The weddin’ is at midday. I suggest everyone eat breakfast.”
He sat down. A beat of silence, and then the room moved.
Isobel was still looking at him when he met her gaze.
“You could have warned me,” she said quietly enough that only Lady Branwen heard.
“About which part?” he said.
“The wedding.”
Lady Branwen’s brow wrinkled. “Ye didnae ken ye were set to become the Lady of Dunalasdair today?”
Isobel shook her head gently. “I knew that Alasdair agreed to postpone for just a short time, but I did not think, after all that happened last night, he would be inclined to stick to the plan.”
“Alasdair does not stray from a plan,” Lady Branwen reminded Isobel gently. “Not when it is designed to bring him exactly what he wants.”