Page 89 of Never Tempt a Scot
“Lydia!” Portia gasped. “You must come with me. You cannot stay here.”
“Why not, Portia? I am happy here.”
Portia pulled her away from Brodie to have a moment of privacy to converse.
“Lydia, you cannot stay, not unless you marry him,” Portia said in a hushed tone.
“I don’t see why you care. You haven’t cared about me in any of this.”
“Of course I have,” Portia insisted.
Lydia stared hard at her little sister. “You didn’t think of me that night you made a fool of yourself at the ball. You didn’t think of me or Papa when you lied about Brodie seducing you. You didn’t think of Brodie when he was attacked and drugged, or when you drugged him yourself. I knew you were spoiled, Portia, but I never imagined you could also be cruel. If Mama were alive, you would have broken her heart.”
Portia’s lips parted, and her bottom lip quivered. She dropped her head.
“You’re right. Mama would have been devastated. I never should have come here!” Portia suddenly dashed toward the distant woods, leaving Lydia staring after her in shock. It was just like her to run away without a thought as to where she was going.
With a heavy sigh, Brodie took off in the direction her sister had gone. He returned a few minutes later with a squirming Portia thrown over his shoulder. He dumped her onto the plaid picnic blanket.
“I wasna about to let the foolish child get killed by boars. We have many in the woods.”
“A boar?” Portia gasped.
“Boars, plural. As I said, we have many, and they would have gored you with their tusks. ’Tis not a pretty way to die.”
Portia scrambled to her feet again, and this time she grabbed Lydia’s hand, trying to drag her toward the castle.
“We’re safe out here by the lake, Portia, really,” Lydia said, trying to reassure her panicked sister.
Brodie collected the plaid blanket and gathered the dishes into the basket. They headed toward the castle, but it seemed as though luck wasn’t with them today. As they reached the front doors of Castle Kincade, three riders were spotted on the road, headed straight for them.
Lydia had a terrible feeling one was her father.
22
Brodie ushered Lydia and Portia through the front door and turned to face the riders. As soon as they were close enough to recognize, he silently cursed. It was more or less as he’d expected. Brock, Ashton, and Jackson Hunt skidded to a stop and dismounted. Hunt moved the fastest, and Brodie didn’t try to stop what happened next. He raised his arms open-handed and took the angry father’s hard right hook to his jaw. Brodie stumbled back, catching himself against the doorframe.
“Where the bloody hell is my daughter?” Hunt threw another punch, and Brodie knew this one would blacken his eye. After a few more hits, Ashton and Brock dragged Hunt away from him.
Blood dripped down Brodie’s chin, and his bottom lip stung. His whole face was a mass of pain as he got back to his feet. The old man was surprisingly strong. He would be lucky to see out of even one eye tomorrow.
“Brodie, where’s the lass?” his older brother demanded.
“Inside. She is safe and well. As is her sister.”
“What?” Hunt shouted. “Portia’s here too? How the devil—?”
“Easy, man,” Brodie said. “Your younger daughter only just arrived. She said she left her aunt in Brighton and traveled here alone. She thought she could rescue Lydia from me. She nearly killed me with a pistol.”
“Where are they? I demand to see them at once.” Hunt shoved past Brodie, who allowed him to storm the castle, as it were.
“Lydia! Portia!” Hunt called out as the door closed behind him.
Brodie sighed and winced. Ashton and Brock watched him solemnly.
“Christ, Brodie, do you have any idea of the trouble you’ve caused?” said his brother. “You’ll be fortunate if Hunt doesn’t challenge you to a duel.”
“That doesna bother me.” In truth, it did bother him, but after such a beating part of him would not mind shooting the old man in the leg just to even the score.
