Page 13 of Seduced By the Reckless Highlanders
Malcolm tapped his nose and narrowed his eyes. “I never reveal my sources.”
The men laughed then turned their heads as Adaira and Keira made their way to the stables, dressed in riding habits. They nodded to the advisors, but Keira caught Murdoch’s eye for a moment, and as an arc of attraction passed between them, she blushed fiercely.
Fortunately, none of the men had noticed, for which Murdoch was infinitely thankful. If they had been a crowd of women, it would have been a different story! He had seen women’s intuition in action and had great respect for it.
“Fine women,” Dougie observed.
“Aye,” Peter Boyle, another one of the laird’s closest advisors, observed. “And that wee wife of his has a lot to put up with. I don’t know how she does it.”
“Women are much stronger than we are,” Murdoch observed.
His mind was on the matter at hand, but his body had gone somewhere else. He shifted uncomfortably. Even the thought of Keira McTavish made him stiffen with desire. His dreams the previous night had been full of her, and she had not been clothed.
“Here comes His Majesty!” Dougie remarked sarcastically. He lowered his voice and whispered to Murdoch, “A’ right? Ye don’t look sae well.” He looked concerned.
“I am fine,” Murdoch replied, smiling grimly. He stood up to greet the laird, who unlocked the door and preceded them all inside. “I really would like all this to be over, though.”
“Aye, you an’ me both,” Dougie said grimly.
When Laird McTavish entered the plush, overdecorated room, he sat down behind his desk and looked around at the six men who had sat down in front of him, feeling very proudof himself. They all reported to him, and he could dismiss them on a whim if it pleased him. It gave him an enormous sense of power. He might not have a son, but he had a beautiful daughter and, better still, a beautiful wife. However, if this one failed to give him a boy child, he might once again be forced to become a widower, and that was becoming tedious.
He jerked his mind back to the matter at hand, leaning back in his chair while sipping a glass of whiskey. None of the other men had been offered a drink, and this had been deliberate, another way the laird had of showing his power. Keeping them waiting had been another, as had making them all fetch their own chairs, which had been positioned haphazardly when they entered.
Murdoch felt like sighing with boredom. He knew he would have to fight to stay awake during one of McTavish’s long-winded monologues, and he wanted to yawn just thinking about it. However, this time the subject proved not just interesting but terrifying, although it began in the usual way.
“As you know,” the laird drawled, “my daughter Keira is going to be married soon to the Earl of Champling. This means that she will be Keira Wentworth, the Countess of Champling. It would create an alliance with the Wentworth family that would be very useful, especially since the earl’s family is very wealthy. However, as soon as the earl arrives here, he will be wined, dined, and imprisoned.”
He took a sip of whiskey, then paused for dramatic effect as the men around the table exchanged glances in obvious confusion. No one said anything for a moment, but everyone was thinking the same thing:Did the laird lose his mind?
However, they waited in patient silence while Archie McTavish milked the moment for all it was worth. At last, he spoke.
“I want what he is carrying in those wagons.”
“But surely, M’Laird, he would have given those to you anyway,” Murdoch said. He was truly mystified.
The laird shook his head. “No,” he replied. “Those are trade goods, and the earl was going to sell them to competitors of mine in the Glenmar Valley. He is bringing silverware, silk, and many other luxury goods that are simply impossible to lay your hands on in this part of Scotland. They are worth a fortune, and I want them, but I do not want my daughter married to a Sassenach. That was just a ruse to get him to come here. Besides, he wanted a dowry far higher than any that I could pay. So we will keep him here for a while.”
“But he will have guards, M’Laird,” Tam Laing pointed out.
“So do we.” The laird indicated Murdoch and Dougie. “The moment they see the earl with a knife to his throat, they will back down, and you can do as you wish with them. Do not worry; the earl’s life is in no danger.”
“So you are not going to hold him for ransom?” Murdoch asked, still confused.
“Yes, I am,” the laird replied irritably. “What I mean is that I have no intention of killing him because I know that his family is very wealthy and can pay the ransom ten times over.”
The men around the table fidgeted and looked around the room, outside the window, and at each other—anywhere but at the laird’s face.
This is bloody madness,Murdoch thought, and had just opened his mouth to say so when Dougal McColl, one of the laird’s advisors, voiced the thought for him.
“M’Laird,” he said cautiously, “I mean no disrespect, but have you thought of the consequences of this? There are still plenty of Englishmen around these parts, and more can be sent from the earl’s estate in Northumberland and Yorkshire. Hundreds of men can be mustered against us in a very short time.”
The laird’s face turned purple with rage, and he stood up and walked around the table to confront the man. McColl was a big man, taller than the laird by three inches, but he was unprepared for the blow on his cheekbone that sent him toppling off his chair onto the floor.
“Now perhaps that will remind you to know your place!” McTavish snarled. “Get up and sit down. Do not speak again, or I will do worse to you next time!”
McColl got to his feet, rubbing his face, but his blue eyes were dark with embarrassment and rage.
When the laird struck McColl, Murdoch had instinctively begun to rise to defend him, but Dougie had pulled him back, shaking his head frantically.
