Page 74 of The Cruel Highlander's Healer
She marched forward, taking the reins out of Conall’s hands. A flicker of desire stirred inside of him at her spark, but he knew that moment was not the time to entertain it.
He helped Eliza onto the horse, getting her settled before he walked over and mounted his own.
Just as he advised, Eliza rode between him and Eliot. She was silent as the men spoke to each other, but Conall knew that she was drinking in every word.
“What are ye goin’ to do with yer maither?” Eliot asked, his voice somber.
Conall let out a sigh. He’d meant what he said to Alistair. He’d known all those years ago that he should have killed her for the murder of his father. But he’d been a mere boy then.
At only eighteen, he hadn’t been able to fathom killing his mother. Or even ordering the deed to be done. Now, however?
Now he was a man grown, and he knew exactly what needed to be done for his people.
“I’ll have her executed.”
The words fell across the three of them, launching them into silence.
They remained like that for the rest of their ride back to the palace. And Conall was glad for the additional time to think.
He’d never gone public with the news that Abigail Shaw had been the one to murder his father. He had not wanted to tarnish the reputation she’d crafted so expertly, because even though she had been a murderer, she was still his mother.
But Conall knew that meant he’d have to make that known now. The people wouldn’t just accept the lady they’d long forgotten about suddenly returning out of nowhere, only to be executed.
There was the possibility of doing it privately. But servants talked. The news would get out somehow. And he would rather do it in a way that he could control the narrative.
Lights shone in the distance, coming more and more into view as they approached the castle. Once they got close enough to make out some of the details, Conall’s brows knit together in worry.
More guards than normal sat atop the battlements. And as they drew even closer, he could see that they were strapped to the teeth with weapons.
There was a flurry of activity from within the grounds, the sound of it rising up from the courtyard to greet them. People were yelling back and forth, more than should be awake at this hour.
I suppose they could be awake and waitin’ for Eliza’s return. She’s made a good name for herself here over the last week.
It didn’t take him long, though, to realize that Alistair kidnapping Eliza had not been the only thing that had the castle in a tizzy.
The moment the guards realized who was approaching, the gates of the courtyard were raised, allowing them to pass through.
“The Laird has returned!” One of the guard’s yelled, the sound of it being echoed from one to the other as word spread all the way into the castle.
As they approached the large, main front doors, they were pulled open. Soft, warm light spilled down the front steps and servants came pouring out of it.
They reached them and took the reins of their horses in hand, allowing him, Eliza and Eliot to slide from their mounts. The moment Conall’s boots touched the ground, he whirled to face the steward nearest him.
He was about to ask him what was going on, when a harried Marissa appeared, with Dougal close on her heels.
“Me daughter!” Marissa yelled, immediately falling upon Eliza and wrapping her in a hug.
The woman didn’t address anyone else. The moment their hug was broken, she immediately began fussing over Eliza.
“Come inside,” she said in a bossy tone that left no room for argument. “I’ll have to look ye over and make sure that dobber dinnae hurt ye.”
Eliza tried to protest, but Marissa simply tugged her daughter’s hand and led her into the castle. The moment before she disappeared into it entirely, she looked over her shoulder.
Conall locked eyes with her, and he didn’t miss the regret in the depths of her gaze.
They still had a lot to talk about. But that would come later.
He turned to Dougal. The young guard looked weary, like he’d aged a decade since Conall and Eliot had rolled off into the night.
