Page 3 of Marry the Highland Villain
Valerie almost dropped her knife, her eyes wide with shock. “Why on earth… What are ye thinking?”
“It has to be me.” Brigid swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry with fear. “Valerie, ye ken how to trade, and if Father’s friends come by, then ye’re the only one who can speak to them. They trust ye and respect ye, more than they do the rest of us. And ye’re the best at finding work to barter for the supplies we need.”
Her gaze shifted. “Megan, ye’re a braw hunter. Yer skill keeps meat in our larder and gives us furs to trade. Ye bring us hides to make into clothing for ourselves or sell if we dinnae need them. Without ye, we’d have had to rely on our little garden, an’ like as nae, we’d have starved. Ye ken that’s the truth.”
She swallowed and said the words that hurt the most. “And I… I go to the village sometimes. I help around the house as best as I can—which isnae sayin’ much—an’ I pick flowers to brighten the place up… but there’s nothing I do that ye cannae do without me. Ye’ve always sheltered me, and I thank ye for it—truly, I do. But yer kindness and protection means there’s naught I do that’s truly important to keep us all fed and safe. So it only makes sense that I’d be the one to go with the soldiers.”
“But… Brigid… ye cannae…”
“It has to be me. I’m the youngest and… well, the most disposable. Nay, dinnae look at me like that, Lily,” she added, seeing her eldest sister about to protest. “Ye ken it’s true. The family can manage fine without me, but if one of ye goes, thenthe rest of us willnae be able to survive. I’m of nay use to ye here.”
She felt sick to her stomach, scared and shaking inside, but she was also certain it was the right thing to do. Like it or not, she was the least important member of the family. At least if she became Laird Auchter’s heir or something of the sort, then she might be able to do more to help her sisters.
She stepped forward, dodging Lily’s hand as her eldest sister tried to stop her, and addressed the leader of the soldiers. “I will come with ye. Give me a moment to pack my things.”
“Ye’ll nae need anything. Laird Auchter has everything arranged. Grab yer cloak and come.”
She’d hoped for some time to say farewell to her sisters. Perhaps even a few minutes to plan and a chance to gather some of her most treasured possessions. The fact that she would be denied even that much stung. However, at least it meant there would be no time for her sisters to try to persuade her to change her mind. Nor would it allow for any time for her to lose the fragile courage that had somehow carried her this far, but which threatened to shatter at any second.
“Brigid, wait.”
Tears rolled down Lily’s face as she reached for her sister, the baby of the family—the one she’d sworn to protect, no matter what. And yet Lily knew as well as anyone that what Brigid said was true.
She could never think of her sister as ‘disposable’—the very word made her heart throb with pain—but she knew, too, that the life they had created here together was fragile and constantly under threat. Somehow, the three oldest sisters had managed to keep all of them alive in the years since their mother’s death, but it had taken all three of them to do it—and to lose one would be to lose them all.
So, she could either let Brigid go with these men, in the hope that what they said was true and that their grandfather really wanted to make one of them his heir, or she could go in her place and know that none of them would live to see her return.
Lily didn’t want to do it, but she knew what she must do.
“Brigid,” she said again through her tears, her voice trembling. “Ye’re nae disposable. Nae to me, and nae to anyone else who loves ye. And that is why I fear I must let ye go.”
Behind her, Megan and Valerie shifted uneasily. Lily could practically feel the anger radiating from them. But they, too, had understood the truth of Brigid’s words, and so, as their youngest sister turned to gather her cloak, the only sound in the narrow hallway was that of the three women’s sobs.
The soldiers formed a guard around Brigid as she turned for one last look at the life she was leaving behind—the only one she had ever known.
“Dinnae worry about me,” she said, the slight tremor in her voice belying the confidence of her words. “I’ll be back soon enough, I promise.”
As one of the soldiers shoved her roughly into the saddle of a waiting horse, then another tied her hands together and to the pommel, Brigid couldn’t help but wonder how on earth she would be able to keep her word, and if she would ever see her home again.
The rest of the men mounted, and within minutes, the modest cottage where Brigid had spent her whole life had vanished into the woods, almost as if it had never existed at all.
It’s just a few days. Then, all will be well. Right?
CHAPTER 2
Conall Barr,known to his enemies and associates as Laird MacKane, scowled at the doors to the Great Hall. He wanted to leave. More than that, he wished with all his heart that the events of the past moon had never happened at all.
He wished he’d never let his youngest brother, Devon, ride to the borders with the guards. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea—a great one, even. Devon had been itching to prove himself, and Oliver was newly married. The trip had seemed like a good compromise; Oliver could have a proper wedding night and time with his bride, and Devon could gain some experience. What could possibly go wrong?
He hadn’t expected the Auchter raiding party. Nor that Devon would choose to fight them, rather than return to report their appearance on MacKane lands.
Not anticipating those two things had cost him dearly. Because of his lack of foresight, he’d lost two brothers—one to the graveand another to the stony silence he’d maintained ever since Devon’s death. Just to make matters worse, his clan was on the brink of a blood feud. The only reason they weren’t already at the gates of Auchter Castle was that Laird Auchter had sent him a message requesting a truce and offering to pay a wergild.
Give me but a fortnight, Laird MacKane, and I shall send you a unique and precious gift in recompense for your brother’s blood.
There was nothing that could make up for the loss of Devon, as far as Conall was concerned. Nothing at all. But his clan was weary of war and in need of rest. The effort they’d made to save Devon—fruitless though it had been—had left many warriors wounded, including Conall himself.
The scar on his left cheek twinged as if to remind him of that day.
