Page 66 of Marry the Highland Villain
“My Laird,” the guard began nervously. “Ye should probably ken that yer brother… well, he’s been sayin’ that as Lady MacKane is Laird Auchter’s blood, he believes she’s been plannin’ to kill ye on behalf of her kinfolk. He said…” he trailed off, seeing the growing fury in his master’s gaze.
Conall scowled. “And why would he think that?” he demanded, ignoring the stinging pain in his arm.
The guard gulped, his face pale. “He couldnae find ye this morn,” he explained. “And it seems yer wife wouldnae tell him where ye’d gone.”
Conall’s rage reignited into a different kind of fury. He knew Oliver had never liked his relationship with Brigid, but his brother hadn’t even checked Devon’s grave, which he knew Conall was in the habit of visiting. Instead, he’d accused Brigid without so much as a second thought.
He was getting tired of telling Oliver that Brigid wasnother grandfather. Tired of Oliver’s temper and his blinding hatred.
Oliver was so determined to see Brigid as an enemy that Conall could have been killed at Devon’s grave this morning while Oliver was too busy accusing his wife to come to his aid.
“Where is my wife?” he asked, almost dreading the answer.
The guard flinched at his tone. “She’s… Master Oliver ordered for her sisters to be taken to the edge of MacKane lands, and Lady MacKane was taken to the dungeons, My Laird,” he said, not daring to look Conall in the eye.
Conall stormed past the man, slammed his way through the main door to MacKane Castle, then wrenched the door to the dungeons open hard enough to send it crashing against the stone. The stone cracked at the impact of the door handle, and the wood splintered around it, but Conall ignored the damage and stormed down the stairs.
“Where is my wife?” he roared, finding Oliver standing in front of one of the cells.
Before his brother could answer, though, a movement from within the cell caught his eye, and his vision became red.
“Release her!”
“Nay. I willnae, Brother.” To his surprise, Oliver shook his head and refused to move.
Conall stepped forward threateningly, but his brother still stood his ground, pulling out a vial that he held up to him.
“I’m glad ye’re safe, Brother,” he said, “but ye willnae be if I allow ye to release her. She was carryin’ this, Conall. It’s poison. Emily confirmed it when I showed it to her earlier. Yer wife was plannin’ to poison ye with it.”
By way of answer, Conall lashed out at his brother, slapping the vial out of his hand. It shattered on the stone at the end of the corridor.
“Ye’ve nay proof of any of that,” he snarled, hardly able to believe what he’d just heard. “I’m here, am I nae? Do I look like I’ve been poisoned to ye? Because I can assure ye, Oliver, that I havenae—and God kens she had plenty of opportunity to do it if she’d wished.” He nodded in the direction of the cell. “Release her.”
“But Brother…”
“I said, release her!” Conall’s voice thundered off the walls, echoing through the underground chamber.
Oliver stared at him in shock, then stepped quickly to the door and unlocked it.
Brigid came hurrying out as soon as the door was open, her long hair disheveled and her eyes red from crying.
“Conall,” she gasped, “I wasnae plannin’ to use that vial, I swear to ye. Laird Auchter gave it to me last night, at the wedding feast. He told me to use it, but I wasnae ever plannin’ to. I forgot to get rid of it last night—that’s the only reason I still had it.”
The last of Conall’s questions melted away at her words. He’d wondered when Holdenson had given Brigid the order to kill him. He’d suspected it had been during their brief conversation the night before, but now he knew what Holdenson had told his wife and what his plan had been.
It was a twisted but simple plan. Had Brigid complied, Oliver would have killed her in retaliation, thus ridding Holdenson of two of his enemies and giving him an excuse to renew the feud—and trying to kill Oliver in turn.
“Conall, please. I promise ye, I’m tellin’ the truth.”
Brigid’s eyes were bright with tears in her pale face, and there was no doubt in Conall’s mind that she meant what she said.
“I ken. I ken ye’re tellin’ me the truth, lass.” Conall touched her chin with two of his less bloodied fingers, then kissed her gently, ignoring the way she flinched at the sight of blood on his hands.
Then, he turned to Oliver.
“Ye didnae even seek me out, beyond my study and my bedroom,” he said, his voice ominously calm. “If ye had, if ye’d spared a single thought for me aside from lookin’ for someone to blame, ye’d have guessed where I went and why.”
Oliver stared at him. “I… I didnae think,” he stuttered. “I saw the vial on the floor of yer chamber, and once Emily had told me what it contained, I?—”
