Page 55 of Highlander's Rebellious Affair
“Ye killed my faither, I have proof that ye did.”
“What proof?” Lyall asked, and Ian smiled. “Ye think the goldsmith can convince all these Lairds of the lies ye have plotted against me? I am the Laird of this Clan and it will be my word against his.”
Ian shook his head, then reached for the dirk in his kilt and raised both of them. “Ye had the goldsmith make a dirk similar to the one my faither had so ye could kill him and nay one would trace it back to ye because they would think it was the Laird’s dirk.”
“Lies,” Lyall roared, and stormed from where he sat to where Ian stood. Ian raised his chin, determined to not back down this time. This was the end of Lyall’s reign.
“Let me see the journal,” a man said and rose from his seat. Ian recognized him immediately. His full beard and striking blue eyes made it difficult to forget his looks. He was a friend of his father, and also the richest man in Galloway. Ian knew he was one of the many fooled by Lyall into thinking they were making enough wealth, meanwhile he robbed all of them for his own benefit.
Ian stepped forward and handed the journal to him. Everyone watched in silence as he flipped through the pages and then he cleared his throat. “That journal is fabricated and it doesnae belong to me,” Lyall lied.
“The first page has yer name on it,” Ian interrupted. “I also have proof in there that he has fooled the entire lot of ye for years. Increasin’ taxes and makin’ ye think ye’re earnin’ enough when he takes over half of every profit for himself and spends it on the largest of feasts.
“For years he has used ye to benefit no one else for himself, and yet ye blindly follow him, and let him fool ye.”
The once-silent room was turned into an uproar then as the men became angry, cursing and pointing accusing fingers at Lyall. Ian saw his uncle’s panic turn into fear, then before anyone could stop him, he reached for a dirk in his pocket, and moved forward, sticking the sharp blade into Ian’s gut.
Ian heard Hope’s scream, and he froze. “One step and I will cut ye in half,” Lyall threatened as Ian dropped to his knees and groaned. His blood seeped out, and stained his leine, but his eyes darted across the room and ran over the faces of every man there, watching to see what would happen next.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and images of Hope flashed in his head. Her smile and beautiful face was all he could think about as he coughed, and Callum rushed to his side.
“Any of ye who want to stand against me will die by my hands,” Lyall screamed. “I am yer Laird, and ye will obey me.”
Lyall turned to Ian again. “Ye were right, I should have killed ye, just the same way I killed yer faither, then none of this would have happened. Ye have defied my every command even though I made ye my adviser,” Lyall continued.
“But it’s not over yet. I will end ye, then take that bonnie wife of yers and make her mine… she was mine to begin with,” he said and cackled.
Ian coughed again, and struggled to his feet. Through his corner gaze, he saw Hope’s father move from where he stood, and heard Hope scream again. “I would nay let that happen,” Ian said and Lyall moved to stab him again, but this time Callum moved faster. He took out his sword, and stopped Lyall by cutting his arm.
The dirk fell, and Callum kicked it away with his feet. “It’s over Lyall… ye killed yer brother, took the Lairdship, and tried to kill his only heir. Yer crimes are punishable by death and any man who chooses to stand with ye should die too.”
Ian’s hand holding unto the wound in his stomach was dripping with his blood, and he could barely understand what was happening at this point as he was feeling lightheaded from the blood loss. All he could hear was Hope’s tears and the pain in his heart.
He dropped to the ground again, and this time he became unconscious.
39
The week that followed, Hope spent most of her time with Ian in their chamber. He had lost a lot of blood from the stab wound, but he had healed fast because of Orlaith’s skill in healing, and the potency of the herbs she used.
The wound was not so deep, but it left a scar just like the others he had from the arrow wounds he sustained earlier, and Hope never wanted any harm to come to him again.
She never left his side. Lyall quickly escaped from the Grand Hall when he saw he was outnumbered and none of his men stood with him. He managed to make it out of the Castle with his general before the guards could find him, and Hope had rushed to Ian’s side the moment she got the chance.
They rushed him to his chamber, and sent for Orlaith immediately. Ian became conscious on the second day, but Hope made sure he didn’t leave the bed or try to work. She needed him to be safe and healthy first before he did anything else.
Rhea walked into the chamber where Hope sat with Ian and fed him soup served from the main kitchen. Ian was pleased to see his sister, and his face lit up the minute she walked in.
“How are ye feelin’?” she asked, and he nodded.
“Hope is takin’ good care of me,” he replied, then reached out and touched Hope’s cheeks. “I just wish she would stop frownin’ at me.”
“I thought ye died,” Hope replied. “I’ve had to watch ye get hurt too many times, and I still cannae take it.”
“It is over now,” Ian replied, and touched her hand. He squeezed it gently, and feeling the warmth of his touch offered a little comfort. “It is all over, we won, and I got justice for my parents.”
Rhea nodded. “We found the goldsmith,” she said and a smile broke on Hope’s face. “He is reunited with his daughter in the village as we speak, and he has sent his gratitude.
“Many of the other Lairds have brought gifts to ye, and so have the businessmen in the village. They keep askin’ for a meetin’ with ye, but Callum is doin everythin’ to keep them away until ye are ready to see anyone.”
