Page 96 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
It was square and nondescript, without any impressive markings or seals, but Callum would know the hand of the man who had written it even if he had traced the letters in the dark.
Bending to the floor, he scooped it up, walking to the window and throwing aside the heavy drapes as light flooded in.
Righting his brother’s chair and pulling it back to an upright position, he sat down.
Callum.
It was the only word written on the front of the envelope, and it was in Angus’s handwriting.
He pulled his dagger from its sheath and sliced open the seal, nerves jangling in his gut as he opened the single sheet of paper. Angus’s spiked hand filled the page as Callum held his breath.
Callum
I don’t know what the last four years could have been like for you. I banished you, hurt you, without any just cause, and for that I will always be sorry.
I believed my wife. I think a man must trust and honor his wife above all else, or he is lost.
But I never knew her true nature until the end. She is a wicked woman. I know that now. I found letters, love letters to you, telling the truth of what she had done. I confronted her—accused her—and to save her own skin, she abandoned her children and left for her father’s. She did not even bid farewell to her own daughters.
A mother abandoning her only kin like that chilled my blood.
What I did to you may be beyond forgiveness, but I beg for it now.
I am asking for your help in raising my wee girls. I am asking you to come back, brother, and for us to be together again, as we were in life before Moira’s cruelty destroyed my faith in you.
The girls are wonderful children and have brought much light to my life. I know their lives would have been improved if they could have known their uncle as they grew. Amy is quiet, reserved, but brave like you. Eilis is stubborn and headstrong.
I want you to meet them, to love them as I do. I have robbed you of the first five years of their life, but I hope you can know them for the rest.
You are the only man I trust with their care. I just hope to see you soon and that you can forgive?—
The letter broke off, the final few lines unwritten, and Callum held it against his chest, knowing that his brother must have passed before he was able to finish it.
Had Angus truly intended for us to reconcile?
After all the pain that had festered inside him for so long, it was strange to feel remorse for a conversation they had never been able to have.
Rising from his chair, he walked across the room to grab the whiskey bottle. Pouring himself a healthy dram, he went to stand before the window, staring out at the gardens.
He sipped the drink, the sharp taste of it passing down his throat. At the familiar burn, he frowned, holding the glass before him and staring at it in confusion.
How long has it been since I reached for a bottle?
He couldn’t remember when he had last had a drink. In the four years he had been in exile, he must have gone through half a bottle every night. But now, it hadn’t occurred to him for days. Not since Lydia arrived.
The girls and his wife were enough for him.
Placing the glass down, he turned around and lowered himself into the chair. Looking at the letter in his hand, he felt a sense of desperate sadness that he hadn’t been able to hear the words written on the page from his brother’s own lips.
“Wherever ye are, Angus, I hope ye are at peace.”
There was a knock at the door, and Callum jumped to his feet, embarrassed by the chaos all around him and trying to distance himself from it as best he could.
What will Lydia think of me when she walks in here and finds me amongst all this like a petulant child having a tantrum?
But when the door opened, all his hopes were dashed. It was not Lydia on the other side, but Kristen.
She stepped into the room, looking about with a frown at the papers and books that now lay scattered over the floor.
