Page 41 of My Scarred Laird
He wished he understood why she was so desperate to be the lady. She was scared of him, had never even spoken to him.
Not once. But knowing that she wanted to either marry him or find someone to fill his position as Laird.
He really needed to find out why this was so important.
Why Talitha believed herself to be so important to take over the keep.
Why Angus thought he could have his daughter be more than what she was.
Callum read through each passage that was in front of him. They were replies from someone and letters that Angus hadn’t had the time to send out yet. All of them were jumbled messes and with each letter, which made no sense, Callum was more and more convinced something was off.
Callum was frustrated. He had believed that all of his allies were good men and didn’t want him gone. He wondered which of his allies would help Angus. He thought after the battles he fought with them and for them, that there was no way they would betray him like this.
He thought he knew those Lairds better. But he also thought he knew Angus better.
Running his hand through his hair, he wished Culloden were here to help him.
As Callum read through more of the passages, that were written as if by a child who didn’t know how to put a sentence together, the handwriting didn’t look familiar.
With the three alliances that Callum had, he had written correspondence with them more than once.
Tague MacGregor had deep slashing writing that seemed as if he were as angry as he was when coming face to face with him.
He had a chip on his shoulder the size of Scotland and Callum felt for his friend.
Tavish MacKinnon’s script was flowing, as if he had all the time in the world, but Callum knew it was only because his mother had hired the best English governesses to teach him everything.
And Malcom Alasdair? Well, when he bothered to respond at all, his writing was short and clipped as if he were annoyed to even respond at all.
This script was neat, tidy and not like his allies at all.
“Egan! I need ye!”
Egan and Fraser came over to him, “Aye Laird?”
“I need ye ta send the fastest riders we have ta go ta Braethnach Keep, the MacGregor stronghold and ta the MacKinnon’s. Now. I doona think that Angus talked ta any of my allies at all.”
Egan’s eyes went wide, “What? What mean ye?”
Callum held out the letters, “None of these letters are from my allies. I recognize all of their writing and no’ a single one of these responses are from them.”
Egan rocked back, “Ye think Angus didna go ta any of their keeps when he said he did? Oi, get tha’ man over here that rode with him.”
The man came forward, he was fairly new to Callum’s men, having moved from the Lowlands with his family just months ago.
“Did ye go ta any of my allies keeps? Braethnach Keep? The MacGregor stronghold or the MacKinnon’s?”
The man looked around, “I doona ken. We went ta the same castle each time. It was ta the south, almost out of the Highlands. Though I never saw the Laird of the keep, nor kenned its name. Angus never told any of us.”
Callum went still, “Tha’ isna where any of my allies live. They live ta the North, West and East of us.”
Egan swore, “It isna any of them then. Fooking hell.”
Callum wracked his brain to think of who lived to the south of them, knowing there were at least three different Lairds that lived further toward the lowlands.
Then he said, “Fook, I will be righ’ back.”
He ran up the stairs to his chambers, going to his desk and rifling through the papers on it.
