Page 7 of Marry the Highland Villain
“Laird Auchter never approved of the man my mother married. He was… well, Grandfather didnae approve. He cast my mother and the rest of us out of the clan. He wouldnae even help us when my mother passed away ten years ago, even though my father was already buried by then.”
The words were simple and matter-of-fact, and underneath them, he heard the same emotions that had crossed her face.Part of him, the part that trusted no one other than his brother, whispered that it was a trap, that she was a spy. His instincts, however, suggested that her words were the truth, and she was what she appeared to be—a young woman, very confused, who might be as much a victim of Laird Auchter’s vicious games as he was.
He considered this as he watched her.
“Give me yer name.”
She didn’t hesitate when she spoke. “Brigid Blackwood.”
Blackwood. He knew the name. Every Highland laird did. A vicious and cutthroat pirate who’d pillaged the coast and a short distance inland for years. He’d been quiet since before Conall had claimed the lairdship, and there were rumors that he’d suffered a fatal wound on his last voyage—although Conall did not know if that was true or just one of the many myths and legends that surrounded the man.
There were also rumors that he’d had a carefully hidden family somewhere.
“Ye said Laird Auchter wouldnae help ‘us’. Ye have kin?”
“Three sisters, aye.”
“And yer father’s name?”
She stiffened, her cheeks flushing as she answered. “Magnus Blackwood.”
Conall stifled a smile. He’d been right.
That explains it, then. Auchter wouldnae accept a pirate as a son-in-law, an’ such a notorious one at that. The associated shame would have enraged him. An’ this girl… he sent her to pay a life for a life. Because he doesnae care if she lives or dies. He may even have thought I’d do his dirty work for him.
Unless, of course, she is a spy and he taught her what story to tell, to allay my suspicions.
For one brief moment, he considered simply throwing the girl into the dungeons and sending a message to Laird Auchter saying to either claim his kin or see her dead. But then another, far better idea occurred to him.
His brother had recently wed, and his council, little though they dared oppose him, had begun to make subtle hints about his own unmarried state. None of them would dare to come right out and tell him he should marry—that he should have married some time ago, in fact. They were too afraid of his wrath to be so bold, and especially not so soon after his brother’s death.
But there had been hints and more than one question about whether he intended for his brother to be his formal heir, rather than simply the presumptive inheritor of the lairdship. He’d ignored them at the time, aware that he had no answer to give and willing to let his silence speak for itself.
Now, he had Brigid. If handled right, the lass could be both a leash on Laird Auchter’s harassment of his clan and a knife in the old man’s gut. If he chose to wed her…
Conall rubbed his chin, his mind racing.
If he wed her, the old man would either have to swallow his bile along with his wrath and accept his supposedly ‘shameful’ kin, or he would break the peace and the terms of the exchange. And if he did the latter, he would lose all of his allies, and the rest of the Highlands would rise in wrath against him for the double sin of dishonoring his word and attacking his own kin.
The old man might intend for this to be a trap, to rid himself of an unwanted granddaughter and a rival all at once, but he clearly hadn’t thought his plan through. He hadn’t considered the other way his offer might be interpreted. Conall was almost certain of that.
To have his despised granddaughter be the wife of a rival laird and protection against further transgressions by himself—Conall could scarcely imagine a more perfect revenge.
A maid appeared with the requested glass of warm milk. Conall took it from her when she made to skirt past him to give it directly to Brigid, who was cowering silently in the seat he’d guided her to. He handed the cup to the lass himself and waited until she’d taken a sip or two to calm herself.
“It seems that yer grandfather has done both of us wrong,” he said at last. “I think we should return the favor.”
“How do ye mean?”
“I mean, Miss Blackwood, that the two of us should spite yer grandfather in the easiest way possible—by getting wed.”
A second later, Conall found himself feeling glad he’d waited until she’d swallowed her mouthful of milk before he’d spoken. It would have been hard to maintain his dignity while dripping with the milk that spluttered out of her mouth as she blinked up at him, more confused than ever.
“I… I beg yer pardon?” she said faintly, looking close to tears.
“Marriage.” Conall raised an eyebrow. “Marry me, Miss Blackwood.”
Brigid stared at the man before her in astonishment. The whole day had been one of confusion and fear, and yet this moment had to top them all. She understood each of the words the Laird had spoken, and yet they still made no sense to her whatsoever. In fact, she was almost certain she must have misheard.
