Page 6 of Marry the Highland Villain
The serving girl looked pleadingly at one of the guards, who went to the body of the slain man, lifted it, and slung it onto one shoulder, staggering slightly under its weight. The woman picked up the items that fell from the man’s belt and clothing.
Both of them, Brigid noticed, gave their Laird a wide berth. The maid looked afraid of him. Even the guard was wary.
Even his own people were frightened of him, then.
The knowledge made Brigid feel uneasy. What kind of man was feared by his own people? And what was to become of her, now that she’d been left in his care?
“An what am I to make of ye?” the Laird asked, turning his attention to her.
Brigid swallowed as she fought back her fears. “I… I dinnae ken, My Laird. I confess I’m fair confused. I thought I was bein’ taken to my grandfather. I dinnae think… I mean, I dinnae ken… May I ask who ye are?”
A brief, humorless smile touched the man’s features and tugged at the scar on his face.
“I’m Laird MacKane,” he said shortly. “And this is my home.”
CHAPTER 3
Conall staredat the young woman sitting bound and confused in the middle of his hall. She appeared to be of medium height, well-endowed with generous curves, dark hair, and deep green eyes that were currently wide with terror. She also looked young andveryafraid.
Good. Fear was good. It would keep her from doing anything foolish. Conall didn’t like killing women, but he wouldn’t hesitate to do so if she proved a danger to him and his kin.
“Why are ye here?” he demanded, his words breaking the silence that had fallen after the removal of the soldier’s body.
The girl blinked, still kneeling on the bloodstained floor. “I… dinnae ken. They told me I was bein’ taken to my grandfather, Laird Auchter. They wouldnae tell me aught else. So ye ken about as much as I do, My Laird.”
Her confusion didn’t seem to be feigned.
Conall took a deep breath, then stepped close and drew a knife. The girl flinched but managed to remain still as he cut her bindings.
“Thank ye,” she said, her voice soft.
“I’ll have someone bring ye something,” Conall told her. “What do ye want?”
“Och, I… I dinnae…” She flushed. “My sister would give me a cup of warm milk whenever I was upset.”
Warm milk. It was so childish that he almost laughed. Instead, he motioned for one of the servants standing timidly in the doorway. “Heat some milk for our… guest. Bring it to us when ’tis warm enough.”
The maid nodded and hurried away.
Conall hauled the young woman up by the elbow and guided her to a chair. “Now then, tell me about yer grandfather. Ye said he was Laird Auchter?”
It was difficult not to snarl the name rather than simply speaking it, and Oliver’s face, visible just behind the woman, twisted with disgust at the very sound.
“Aye.”
“An’ ye and yer grandfather are close, are ye nae?”
The expression on her face was all the answer he needed. Anger, hurt, loss, and age-old grief filled her eyes, speaking more eloquently than words ever could.
“I’ve never met him,” she said simply. “This was to be the first time I ever set eyes on him. But the men… well, they brought me here instead, as ye ken.”
“Ye’ve never met him.”
It seemed an odd thing, that Laird Auchter wouldn’t acknowledge his kin. Odder still that Conall had never heard of the man having any children, let alone grandchildren.
Well, there’d been rumors about a daughter, but the lass had disappeared when Conall himself had been no more than a wee bairn. He wasn’t sure she existed at all.
The girl shook her head.
