See Me (See Me #1)(21)

A derisive laugh burst out of him, cutting me off and taking me by surprise. I sat back on my heels. “You don’t believe me?”

He shook his head at the ground. “I believe ye want to keep yer family safe from the Fae, and I can respect that. Ye do no’ have to pretend.”

He was so jaded. It made my heart ache.

“McKale, you were the one who brought it up about how your clan doesn’t usually force bindings. How was I supposed to feel?” He opened his mouth to say something, but I kept going. “Look. It sucks that we’re being forced, and maybe I’m being naïve, but I want to make the best of this, don’t you?” When he didn’t answer, I asked, “Do you want me to leave? Go back home?”

“Are ye ready to leave so soon?” The look he gave me was tough, but I could sense the hurt underneath.

“No.” This was frustrating. “But I was ready to leave last night. I wasn’t feeling very welcome.”

“Has the clan not welcomed ye openly?”

“I meant welcomed by you.”

He dropped his eyes again, touching the smooth wood of his violin.

“Forgive me,” he whispered. “I…”

Before he could finish we heard Brogan calling him. McKale sighed and we both pushed to our feet. I wiped debris from my bottom and followed McKale out to the clearing. Brogan uncrossed his arms and softened when he saw me.

“Top o’ the morning to you, Robyn.”

No, he did not just say that. Cass was going to flip when I told her.

“Good morning, Brogan.”

“Yer father’s requestin’ that we have a discussion first thing this morning. We’ll break our fast soon after.”

Break our fast? Oh, my gosh—breakfast! Another cute thing to make Cass happy. The seriousness on Brogan’s face kept me from smiling as he turned and headed back in the direction of the huts with McKale and me following. Before we got there, my family came walking out. Cassidy hadn’t even bothered to change out of her pajamas for the family meeting.

Brogan led us all to the end of a row of tables under a thin canopy. A palpable tension banded around our group. Brogan and McKale sat together on one side of the table. When I came around the other side to be with my family, I caught the not-so-friendly look on Dad’s face as I sat next to him. Uh-oh.

McKale and his father made quite the pair. Brogan sat up tall and McKale slightly slumped, as if he didn’t want to loom too much higher than the older man. They both propped their forearms on the table and linked their fingers in the exact same way. Brogan looked up at his son.

“The Masons are concerned about yer commitment to this pairing, and rightly so. Last night was the first time I’d ever noticed the interaction between ye and the Shoe Mistress. Have ye compromised yerself, son?”

The Shoe Mistress? What the heck did that mean? And I squirmed a little at the question about being “compromised.” Yuck.

“My commitment to the clan has never wavered, Father.” McKale’s voice was quiet and careful. “I cannot ignore the Shoe Mistress when she speaks to me, or deny taking her hand when she offers it. Ye know we cannot slight their kind.”

A sarcastic cough sounded from Cassidy at the other end of the bench.

“McKale, dear.” Mom reached across the table and patted his hands. He lifted his eyes to her with politeness. “We all want this to work out. As for Robyn’s father and myself, we are mostly concerned that the two of you will be happy. That means there can be no future… relations”—insert cringing from me here—“with this Fae, no matter how great or small.”

McKale nodded and lowered his eyes as if humiliated.

Brogan clapped his hands together and puffed out his chest. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, when can we expect the binding ceremony to take place? The Summer King’s mistress will want to be notified.”

Gee, no pressure or anything. McKale and I shared an embarrassed look before both staring down at the table again. Dad cleared his throat next to me.

“Robyn will turn eighteen in less than a month’s time. We would prefer if they had at least that long to get to know one another.”

Brogan’s tense brow showed that he worried the timeframe was excessive, but he nodded his agreement anyhow.

“Very well, then. Please accept my apologies for the unpleasantness of last eve. Surprise portal openings never bode well. They usually occur but twice a year—once for ordering shoes and once for delivery of the goods. We weren’t expecting them again until summer’s end.”

“Things happen,” my father said, and though the words were pleasant, his face was still in scary-mode. “I believe they came to make sure Cecelia and I honored our agreement. I’m sure the rest of the summer will work out just fine. Won’t it, McKale?”

Oh, dear. That was dadspeak for stay-away-from-the-Fae-and-don’t-hurt-my-daughter.

Or else.

I wanted to crawl somewhere and hide. Or better yet, shrink into a mini Robyn-chaun and jump on the back of the nearest sheep that could whisk me off somewhere where boys weren’t forced into being with me.

McKale straightened and met my dad’s eyes. “Aye, Mr. Mason.”

Brogan stood. “Well, then. Glad that’s all settled. I do believe I smell our morning meal preparing. Let us visit the kitchens and then we’ll eat in the open air this fine morn.”