Page 88 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
“I told ‘im I dinnae like the look of those rocks,” Helena heard a man mutter, but Lachlan whirled around with a knife.
“And I told ye I would have yer tongue, Gulley. Shut up. She’s a woman. What the hell would she ken about seafarin’? Are ye pirates or pansies? Let’s go.”
“No, no,” Helena begged. “Bartholomew, please. This is madness. Father will never forgive you.”
“Ah, old chap,” Bartholomew said, speaking for the first time since he’d surprised her in her room.
He’d been keeping pace, wide-eyed, and she felt a fresh surge of hatred. Whatever he was about to say, Helena already knew that it would have nothing to do with her and would only serve his interests.
“We can simply finish this business here. I should go?—”
Lachlan shoved Helena at another pirate and whirled around, his blade now pointed at Bartholomew’s bobbing throat. “Ye cut me, Sir, by nae acceptin’ me invitation to come on me ship. Come aboard and get yer gold. Then, ye may leave.”
“Gold?” Helena snarled. “You have it from two houses, your mother’s and the Lovells. Why on earth do you need?—”
“Yer braither gambled it all away, pet,” Lachlan said as he stashed his blade and turned around. He caught her by the upper arm and dragged her down to the boat pulled up on the shore. “Nae a coin left in his coffers. And yer faither has apparently left his fortune to Morighe—and yer little sister.”
“Bloody unbelievable,” Bartholomew muttered. “After everything we’ve done. All the years of putting up with Lady Highbrow.”
The entire world seemed to spin.
“What?” Helena whispered.
“Aye, I do so appreciate a generous faither-in-law,” Lachlan said and then shoved her toward the boat. “We’ll make good use of his fortune. Don’t worry, pet.”
Helena’s heart was in her throat as she was forced into the boat, which was shoved out into the churning, choppy waters. She was thrown to and fro, the cold saltwater soaking her in seconds. Shivering, she stared up at the black, skeletal ship, now groaning from the tides.
I will not die here,she thought as she was forced up a ladder and onto a wide deck filled with leering, thin pirates.
Glancing around, she noticed that more than one was sprawled on the deck, sipping from bottles and glaring into the distance.
When was the last time they ate?
Unable to help it, she murmured, “When was the last time your men ate?”
Lachlan shot her an ugly, perplexed look, and a few of his men stirred. “Why, are ye offerin’ to cook, Highbrow?” he sneered at her. “I already heard of ye. Yer braither says that ye’re only good for books and actin’ better than everyone.”
“Did he now?” Helena glared back at her stepbrother, who was standing at the top of the ladder, red-faced and puffing. He winced. “Charming.”
“Nay, but I dinnae mind, pet. I am ever so grateful that yer Queen already picked a bride for me,” Lachlan said.
Helena’s fists clenched. Whirling back, she watched him saunter across the deck, followed by a graceless Bartholomew, who fell hard and caused the pirates to laugh.
“I will not marry you,” she hissed.
“Och, but ye will. Ye are promised to the rightful Laird of Morighe and Galeclere, lass. And that is me.” Lachlan bowed then, and there was a smattering of applause from his men. “I shall take over that castle, empty it of all the fools, drive off the fetid wastrels from the land, and keep those worth a damn.”
Helena drew herself up, shaking from head to toe. “You arenotthe rightful Laird of Morighe.”
Lachlan stared for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed. “Och, but I am. Every day, I will revel in me triumph over me bastard cousin, for I will claim me title, me castle, and his pretty bride. Even in the grave, he’ll rot with fury and helplessness.”
“You willneverwin against him,” she gritted out. “Never.”
“Or perhaps,” Lachlan said, pacing forward, “I’ll keep him alive and locked away. On the edge of death. Where he might hear yer screams and never be able to get to ye. And ye can visit him when ye please me. Bring him a bit of sup.”
Helena’s chest rose and fell as hatred and fury coursed through her, along with terror. For she could see in his eyes that he meant every word. Lachlan would do such things. He would destroy everything good and prosperous about Morighe and Galeclere.
But she also saw the truth there.
