Page 74 of The Highlander's Captured Bride
“He’s nay me uncle,” Ethan ground through grit teeth. “With all he had done, poisoning me maither, killing me brother, I can never call him me family anymore.” Violet reached over and swiped away the tear that had beaded under his eye as he continued, “He sent ye to the dungeon, then he tried to kill ye, how can I ever even ken of him as ahuman being,much less me kin.”
“I understand,” Violet sighed. “His betrayal was very coldblooded and heartless, but I wonder why he did it.”
“I daenae care,” Ethan snarled. “He deserves death.”
Violet heard his pain though she could not feel it, and she did not want to feel it either. To have trusted someone so dearly only to end up with that person try to kill you had to be dreadful, one she hoped to never suffer under.
He paused, “How’s yer faither?”
Taking a chance, Violet slipped onto the bed and laid beside him. Close and in his intimate space, she dipped her voice, “Bruised but coalescing. About yer uncle, I ken it’s painful but I doubt he just woke up one morning and decided that he was going to kill his family. Something is behind it all. Before he sent me to the dungeon, he said that yer faither wasnae running the lairdship how it should be run, that there were opportunities that yer faither never took advantage of, and that he could dae them instead.”
“That’s rich,” Ethan snorted and lifted a hand to tuck a lock behind her ear. “Faither said he never had the strength to run a lairdship, with all the book-learning he has, he doesnae have the power to make the hard decisions that running a lairdship takes.”
“And ye will because ye still have yer faither with ye,” she added.
“And ye,” he added, his eyes reverent. “I plan to marry ye the moment I can walk freely.”
Her cheeks warmed, “And I look forward to the day, but there are going to be some things to fulfill before that,” she said while reaching for him and grasping his hand. “And I’ll be by yer side through it.”
Ethan leaned forward, “Forgive me for leaving ye without a word. I wasnae even sure if I was right in kenning where yer faither and mine would be.”
“I understand,” her lips quirked. “But daenae ye ever dae that to me again or ye will pay for it.”
He laughed.
* * *
It was another six days from his five-day recovery, but Ethan was not going to let facing the man he had once called his uncle be put off anymore. his back was still aching, and he took care to not stretch the still tender scar there, but he had to get this done.
The descent to the dungeons, flanked by guards before and after him was done with only the stomps of boots accompanying them. When the door was pushed in, he stepped inside the dim stone room to see Callum sitting against a wall with his knees pulled up to his chin.
He had not carried Violet with him and he did not want her within ten feet of this man. Callum looked up, barely, then dipped his head again. “Ye had to take a squadron to see me, nephew.”
Bristling, Ethan snapped, “Ye daenae get the right to call me yer nephew any more. Right now, I’m the only thing between ye and death. Ye have one chance to explain yerself, just one and ye better nae waste it.”
Callum’s lips pursed and his jaw ticked. Ethan was getting progressively agitated and was ready to snarl that he would face the noose the next day when he spoke.
“I grew up in the shadow of yer faither,” his tone was lifeless. “From when I was a bairn to fifteen, I was sickly and unable to dae anything much, so I was stuck inside and learned to love books because there was nothing else. Anything I did dae however, was looked over by me faither who could only praise Balgair. I got sick of it till me stomach turned at seeing him.”
“It felt like the old gods pitied me more than the Christian one did, because nay matter how I prayed, I never got better. In the stretch of one summer week though it all changed. The heaviness in me chest went away and I could run without collapsing. As time went by and I grew better, I chose to go to university and study. T’wasnae as I would be missed here anyway…”
Ethan felt his incensed spirit begin to smolder instead of flare and though his jaw was locked tight, he decided to listen to Callum’s tale.
“Every time I came home, I saw something around here that could be done another way or something that they should cut out altogether, but they wouldnae hear me. I felt like I was shouting at the sky when I spoke to me faither or Balgair, so I left and dinnae come home until both of me parents passed away. Only for several short times over ten years. As I kept traveling, I burned to come home and be the leader I kent me brother wasnae. I had seen how maharajahs and emperors rule in the Far East, and kent it was me duty to raise this humble place into a power seat. I got tired of traveling and craved coming home to a lairdship I would rule but…” his words faltered and he shrugged. “Clearly, I dinnae plan it all outright.”
“But yer plan was to come and kill us all,” Ethan said through clenched teeth. “Tell me, Callum, what went through yer mind when ye slit Finley’s throat? Did ye just see him as an obstacle or did any part of ye see him as yer blood?”
“Both, really,” Callum said as he lifted his hands to look at them. After flexing them twice, he sighed. “I just had to remind meself that I was doing the best for us all, and that called for sacrifices.”
Bile threatened to burn Ethan’s throat into speechlessness but he swallowed over the bitterness. “That’s all it was to ye, a sacrifice. Nae the blood dripping from yer fingers or the guilt from the trust that I ken Finley had shown ye. He would have attacked anyone he dinnae ken, even drunk as he was, but he wouldnae have attacked ye. Tell me, why did ye kill Miss O’Bachnon? She has a child.”
“She was a loose end,” Callum said tiredly. “I kent about her history with the castle and her healing gifts. If ye had found her all I had hoped for would be destroyed. Couldnea have that, could I?”
Ethan’s fist was clenching by his side, ready to lay a blow in the middle of this heartless man’s face, but—by only God’s mercies, he was sure—he restrained himself. “I cannae stand to look at ye.”
Getting up, he marched to the door only to have Callum call at his back, “So, what’s me fate? Is it death?”
“Nay,” he growled. “As evil as ye are, hell might just spit ye back out and I willnae have ye blood on me hands, just as I willnae have ye wreak havoc on others. Yer sentence, Callum, is exile, to the northern lands and beyond. Ye will live alone and die alone while yer name and memory will be wiped away from this home.”
