Page 55 of Marry the Highland Villain
“Ye are Brigid, my youngest granddaughter,” Laird Auchter said, cocking his head as he eyed her. “Even so, I am surprised ye look as well as ye do. Laird MacKane isnae kenned for his gentleness.”
“And ye’re nae kenned for carin’ for yer kin, yet here ye stand, claimin’ ye are here to offer yer goodwill and blessings,” Brigid retorted, anger making her brave.
Anger was usually an uncomfortable feeling for her, but right now she welcomed it as a shield against the sly, conniving presence of the grandfather she’d never known—and never wished to.
“Say what ye like.” Laird Auchter—Brigid decided at that moment that she would never think of him as her grandfather again—waved a hand dismissively. Then, he reached into his sporran and pulled out a small earthenware vial, which he offered to her. “But tak’ this, and if ye’re wise, ye’ll be sure yer husband takes a dose of it.”
Brigid took the vial he handed her, unstoppered it, and sniffed the plants inside delicately. Instantly, she recoiled at the all-too-familiar scent.
“’Tis monkshood,” she said, her eyes wide. “This is poisonous.”
“Aye. And if Laird MacKane takes it, then ye’ll be sure he cannae harm ye.”
Brigid shook her head. “I could never give him this. Ye must be mad if ye think I’d poison my own husband.”
She tried to push the vial back into his grasp, but Laird Auchter scoffed.
“Och, and why nae? A fortnight ago, ye didnae even ken his name or his face. Why such loyalty to him now?”
Brigid’s mouth twisted as fresh anger shot through her. “I could say the same about ye,” she pointed out. “I have nay reason to be loyal to ye, either.”
“Lass…” Auchter began, but Brigid shook her head, interrupting him.
“Nay. Nay. Of the two of ye, Laird MacKane didnae kidnap me, nor threaten my kinfolk or neglect his kinfolk. I may nae ken him very well, but I ken enough to ken I can trust him. And I ken enough to ken I despiseye.”
Laird Auchter’s lip curled in derision. “Och, ye’re as foolish as yer mother was, lass. Ye’ll make the same mistakes she did if ye’re nae careful. Mark my words, she would have wished for ye to learn from her mistake, rather than repeat it. And she’d weep to ken that ye’d married such a dangerous man.”
“And how would ye ken that?” Brigid demanded fiercely. “Ye never spoke to her after she wed my father.”
She forced herself to remain calm, but even so, she could feel a small seed of doubt sprouting inside her.
Her mother’s final rule. Had she regretted her marriage to a man as notorious as Magnus Blackwood?
She couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t allow herself to listen to Laird Auchter’s poisonous words. If she did, she would only regret it—of that much she was certain.
“My mother loved my father,” she said staunchly. “And he loved her.”
“Och, mayhap.” Laird Auchter’s lip curled again, and Brigid barely restrained herself from slapping him when she saw the contempt on his face. “I would have thought her ashamed to be wed to such a man, but she bore all of ye, so she must have cared somethin’ for him. Even so, she died because of her marriage to him. I’ll nae let another of my blood die from marryin’ the wrong man.”
“Ye dinnae ken that…” Brigid began, but this time it was Laird Aucher’s turn to interrupt.
“I ken more about Laird MacKane than ye,” he said. “And I ken he has a foul temper. He killed afore, with little provocation, and I’ll nae let him do the same to ye.”
He shoved the vial of monkshood into her hand and curled her fingers around it once more before she had a chance to object.“Keep that for yerself, in case ye need it,” he said. Then, he turned and stalked out of the room, followed by his guards.
Brigid remained where she was, frozen in place and staring at the vial in her hands. She heard footsteps and instinctively shoved the vial into the belt pouch she wore, just as Oliver appeared in the doorway.
“Were ye harmed?”
“Nay, I wasnae harmed. He just wished…” Brigid trailed off, knowing she couldn’t tell Oliver the truth but unsure what she should say instead.
“He wanted to greet me and give me some advice,” she said, at last. “And now that he’s done it, he’ll leave.”
Nae that I have any intention of takin’ his advice. As soon as I can get rid of this ‘gift’ of his, the happier I’ll be.
She offered Oliver what she hoped was a reassuring smile, then hurried back into the hall and to her sisters. The three of them were watching for her with worried expressions, so she did the only thing she could think of. She reached out, grabbed Lily and Valerie’s hands, and dragged them toward the dance floor.
“We should dance!” she cried, sounding happier than she felt.
