Page 113 of Taken By the Vicious Highlander
His head turned slowly, his eyes meeting her terrified gaze. She was shaking.
“Ye’re standin’ in front of yer faither’s murderer, and I’m nae sorry.”
He studied her, waiting for the grief and devastation, but she looked relieved.
Ariah swallowed with great effort, and tears rolled down her cheeks, but her expression remained unchanged.
“Yer faither is dead, and yer Laird kenseverything.”
She flinched. “Everything?”
“Aye.”
Her eyes widened wildly, searching the room for something that wasn’t there. “The letter? She showed it to ye?”
Damon pointed to the still-roaring fire. “Burned.”
Her lips parted, and for the first time, genuine emotion flickered across her face.
Good, now we’ll get somewhere.
His gaze sharpened. “Now, fill in the gaps.”
Ariah inhaled shakily, steeling herself. “There’s… there’s a lot to tell,” she started, her voice quiet, hesitant.
Damon crossed his arms over his chest. “Then start talkin’, and dinnae leave anythin’ out.”
Ariah swallowed, nodding. “Me faither orchestrated everything, every piece of it, after I told him that I was pregnant and that it was Magnus’s child.”
A muscle ticked in Damon’s jaw. “He was workin’ with the Sinclairs?”
“Aye, he’s always aligned himself with them. It was he who suggested to Magnus that they meet.”
He remained silent.
“They never wanted Magnus gone—they wanted to control him. And when he died, they turned to Faither. He said that if they backed him, he’d make sure they got what they wanted.”
Damon’s hands flexed and then relaxed again. “And what did they want, exactly?”
“They wanted money, land, and power, and me faither wanted to be the Laird—well, wanted me child to be the heir.”
“And he wanted me out of the way.”
“Aye.”
Damon’s face darkened. “Explain.”
Ariah took another breath. “He wanted ye weak and distracted. When they couldnae kill ye, me faither changed plans. Instead, he would have them bend ye, to become?—”
“Controllable.”
“Controllable, aye.”
Damon let out a low, humorless laugh. “And they thought they could control me by attackin’ the villages I had nay allegiance to nor influence over aside from that of me title?”
“The Sinclairs did all of it. The brigand attacks? They wished to stretch yer forces thin, weakenin’ the border so that ye’d be vulnerable.”
Damon drummed his fingers on the wooden surface of his desk, his expression neutral. “They wished to control McCallum lands for power. Are they goin’ to make a move for Brahanne?”
