Page 47 of Taken By the Ruthless Highlander
Orella’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She took Morgan’s hands in her own and gave them a tight squeeze. “Ye’re too kind.”
But there was a sadness in her tone that Morgana couldn’t ignore.
“Alright, what’s really goin’ on here? Ye seem troubled,” she noted as they continued collecting herbs.
“It’s nothin’, really,” Orella answered, much to her irritation.
Morgana hated it when people lied about the way they felt, when it was clear from their expressions what was going on.
“Dinnae do that,” she scolded. “It’s clear as day that something’s botherin’ ye, so out with it.”
“Morgana, I’m worried about ye. Cohen is worried about ye too.”
“There’s nay reason to be worried—everythin’ is as well as it can be,” Morgana reassured.
Her heart skipped a bit when she spotted a shadow lingering in the window. She didn’t want to believe that Ryder was there; it was easier to ignore his smoldering glare than to face it.
“People think that ye’re goin’ to kill the Laird just like ye did the last one,” Orella blurted out.
The confession didn’t surprise Morgana one bit. The clan had been suspicious about her before she married the late Laird McKenzie, so to think that they’d put such things aside now would be ridiculous.
“Dinnae ye think that if I was goin’ to do it, I would have done it already?” Morgana challenged, her irritation simmering beneath her skin.
“Ye ken it’s nae me sayin’ these things. At least ten councilmen are already placin’ bets on how long Ryder has left to live,” Orella revealed, keeping her voice low.
“Ye cannae be serious,” Morgana gasped, stunned.
How anyone could bet on her relationship—or any relationship, for that matter—bothered her.
“Oh, that I am. In fact, Cohen has staked a few coins. That’s how serious this is.”
“What do ye want me to do about it? I have nay intentions of killin’ anyone, let alone my husband.”
“I ken that,” Orella said as she placed a hand on Morgana’s shoulder. “Ye ken I’ve only ever been on yer side. Ye say ye’re innocent, I believe ye. Cohen does, too. Which is why he’s bettin’ on ye to come up ahead. And let me tell ye, when the truth does come to light, we’ll be sittin’ pretty for certain. I might even be able to get that material I’ve been eyein’.”
“Thank ye. Ye dinnae ken how good it feels to ken that I have at least one friend in the castle. Sometimes this place seems so small,” Morgana muttered.
Suddenly, her gaze landed on Ryder. Her heart skipped a beat, and her breath hitched. His eyes bored into her. The distance did not matter, for she could feel his intentions. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his lips trailing down her neck.
“Aye, it can be hard to settle, but ye’re doin’ great, truly. I dinnae think anyone else would have stuck it out the way ye have. Some would have fled a long time ago.”
“It was an option in the beginning,” Morgana admitted.
“And ye didnae choose it? What is wrong with ye?” Orella sputtered.
“The Laird gave me three options. I could leave and be banished, never to see my siblings again. I could stay as the late Laird McKenzie’s widow, never to marry, but always have a target on my back…”
“Or ye could marry him,” Orella chimed in. “Well, I suppose ye picked the option ye could live with.”
Morgana nodded as she stared at Ryder. “It was the only option that guaranteed my safety. But even now, I’m startin’ to wonder just how far Ryder’s protection extends. If ye say that clansfolk are startin’ to whisper, then it means they’re startin’ to plot.”
“Cohen says that the only way to get the people to agree is to find the real killer,” Orella said.
“Ryder is handlin’ that,” Morgana stated with such confidence that it left little room for doubt.
“That’s all fine and dandy, but dinnae ye think he has other things to worry about, what with bein’ Laird and all? The man isnae exactly the council’s favorite. The only reason he’s the Laird is because he is the only survivin’ son.”
“What are ye sayin’? Does my husband have a target on his back?” Morgana asked, cutting right to the wick of things.
