Page 62 of Marry the Highland Villain
“Laird Auchter gave it to me when he interrupted the wedding feast,” Brigid began, the excuse sounding weak to her own ears. “I didnae intend to use it. I just forgot I had it, that’s all. Ye mustbelieve me, Oliver,” she added, pleadingly. “Ye must ken I would never harm my husband.”
Oliver’s lip curled, disgust and anger transforming his face into a brutal mask that was far more terrifying to Brigid than his brother’s scarred countenance could ever be.
“I dinnae believe ye,” he said flatly.
“Are ye callin’ my sister a liar?” Megan started forward, but Lily caught her arm, her eyes flickering toward the gathered warriors at Oliver’s side.
“All I’m sayin’ is that ’tis nay accident that Laird Auchter chose to give yer sister to my brother as a price for the feud. And that until my brother is found and the truth is revealed, ye three are banished from this castle, back to yer home. And as for ye…” He spat the word at Brigid. “Ye’ll be confined to the dungeons until ye tell me where my brother is.”
“But I dinnae ken,” Brigid replied, struggling to hold back her tears. “He was absent when I awoke nae much more than a candlemark ago.” She bit her lip. “I ken ye hate Laird Auchter, but I swear to ye, I’m tellin’ the truth. I had nay intention of usin’ the contents of that vial.”
“I dinnae believe ye, and I’m nae prepared to listen to any more of yer excuses.”
Oliver’s hand moved as if he was about to strike her, but then he stepped back, visibly controlling himself as he gestured to the men with him.
“Tak’ her to the dungeons,” he said coldly. “And escort the rest of them to the border. Make sure they dinnae come back.”
Brigid wanted to protest, to fight this slur on her good name. But one glance at Oliver’s face was enough to tell her there was no point. Any words she had to say would fall on deaf ears. Her brother-in-law was too angry to listen to anything and far too suspicious of her to be reasoned with. She and her sisters were considered enemies, simply because of their maternal grandfather—curse the man.
“I understand,” she said bravely, gathering her courage in both hands. “And ye may do wit’ me as ye see fit. But at least give my sisters time to gather their belongings—that’s all I ask of ye.”
Oliver hesitated, his jaw set.
“One candlemark,” he said, at last. “Nae more.”
“Thank ye. I’ll go with ye without a fight. But I promise ye, I dinnae ken where yer brother is, and I didnae harm him.”
“Ye better pray ye’re tellin’ the truth.” Oliver glared at her, then stepped back.
Lily and Megan cried out as the warriors surrounded her. Valerie’s hand twitched at her side as if she were about to reach for a weapon, but Brigid knew her sister wasn’t stupid enough to start a fight when she was surrounded by armed men. Instead, the three of them were forced to simply stand there, their faces identical masks of horror and fear as their youngest sister was marched past them, her head held high and a brave smile wavering on her lips.
She would not let them see her cry. Or know that she was afraid. She knew if she did, they would fight to the death to try to save her, and she didn’t want any of her sisters to get hurt because of her.
As the men led her out of the Great Hall and down the narrow corridor to the dungeons, one thought filled her mind.
Och, Conall, where are ye? And what has happened that yer brother would suspect me of harmin’ ye?
CHAPTER 22
“Mornin’,Devon.” Conall stopped by the heavy marble stone bearing his brother’s name and the date of his birth and death. The wind chilled his shoulders without his heavy cloak, but he paid it no mind. “Apologies for nae comin’ to speak to ye recently. Life has been…”
He stopped and ran a hand through his hair, trying and failing to find the words to express exactly what life had been like these past two weeks.
“Och, so much has happened in the past fortnight,” he said, at last.” I suppose ye ken that if ye’re watchin’ from above, as the priests say ye are. But I had to come and speak to ye about it.”
He took a deep breath. “I met a lass. Brigid Blackwood, granddaughter of Laird Auchter, nay less. But she’s nae anything like her mother’s sire. Nae at all.”
Another breath, and then Conall crouched so that his brother’s name was at his eye level. “Holdenson sent her to me as repayment for yer death… nae that it could ever be repaid, as far as I’m concerned. I wanted to kill her until I realized that was exactly what he expected of me. Well, I didnae want to play into the man’s hands, so I married her instead. An… och, I love ye, Brother, and that will never change. But what I feel for her…”
He shook his head and leaned against the stone. “I look at her, and I see the man I’ve been in her eyes. Ye always said I had a short temper, Devon, but I didnae care about that until I saw the way she looked at me after I killed two men in front of her. She makes me see the best and the worst of myself. She makes me want to act on the former and mend the latter, and she makes me feel ashamed I didnae hear ye speak about the matter earlier. Because I didnae want to listen.”
He sighed. “Now, I wish I had. I wish that more than anything, Brother, because if I’d just listened to ye, ye might have lived. And yet, if ye’d lived, I might never have met Brigid—and I cannae imagine bein’ without her now. And I dinnae ken how I can live with feelin’ that way, kennin’ that I only have her in my life because I dinnae have ye. ’Tis a difficult matter, mournin’ ye and carin’ for her at the same time.”
For several minutes, Conall fell silent, leaning against his brother’s headstone and breathing in the cool morning air as the sun slowly rose higher in the sky, warming his skin with its rays. Gradually, the feelings of turmoil began to subside, and he felt a sort of peace wash over him, almost as if Devon was reaching out and offering a sort of benediction.
After a while, though, some sound he couldn’t quite identify broke the silence, making him rise to his feet in one smooth motion, instantly on guard. He thought it might be Oliver searching for him for some reason—since Devon’s death, Oliver had been nervous any time Conall was away from him and he did not know where he’d gone.
The figure that appeared was far less welcome, though, and Conall’s temper rose as the man he hated walked toward him, strolling along as if he had every right in the world to be there. Remembering the words he’d just spoken to his brother’s grave, he throttled his anger as best as he could, though he couldn’t help the snarl that filled his voice.
