Page 57 of Married to the Highland Devil
“We are weak because ye have destroyed us, wasted our men’s lives, and taken what’s left of the properties we have,” Duncan shot back. “We are weak because ye have destroyed us.”
“Yer faither destroyed ye,” Malcom tossed back at him, and his eyes widened to show his madness.
Duncan shook his head. “Let my sister go,” he said in a weaker tone. “She has done nothin’.”
“I dinnae want yer sister, Ye ken what I want,” Malcolm insisted. “I want the clan. Give that to me, and ye shall take yer sister.”
Duncan’s jaw clenched harder now, and he squeezed his right hand into a tight fist.
“I cannae give ye my clan,” Duncan insisted when he noticed Yvaine shaking her head and sobbing harder.
Seeing that man hold his sister down with such a strong grip made Duncan mad with anger. He wanted to lurch forward and rip the man’s hands off his body, but such a move was suicide. Malcolm’s men would shoot him dead with their arrows before he reached Yvaine.
“Then I shall take yer sister instead.”
Malcolm waved his right hand, and they dragged Yvaine back into his castle before he looked at Arran again, moved his sword, and cut through Arran’s side.
Arran grunted from the pain and dropped to his knees.
“Arran!” Duncan yelled and tried to run to him, but he was surrounded instantly as more of Laird MacGregor’s men trooped out of the castle, outnumbering his men.
“I shall let ye leave today, Duncan, but ye have a fortnight to do the right thing. Hand over yer clan, and save yer sister from my wrath.”
Malcolm’s smile widened, and his eyes flickered. “Or better still, hand over yer bride. She is English and bonnie. She shall make a better wife than yer stubborn sister. She is cursed by the sun, have ye nae heard? Did ye think those rumors appeared out of the ground?”
Arran was still on the ground, and Duncan’s temples throbbed with anger now.
How can I win against this man? He is one step ahead every time.
When Malcolm and his men retreated, Duncan hurried to Arran and tried to help him to his feet.
“Ye must leave without me,” Arran said through gritted teeth. “I shall stay here, survive, and bring Yvaine back with me.”
“Arran—”
“Leave now, Duncan. Return home and prepare for war… There is nay avoidin’ it now.”
Tears burned through Duncan’s eyes, and his guts clenched hard. He saw red, and only that rage propelled him to pull Arran to his feet.
“Go,” Arran insisted. “He willnae kill me. I will find the healer and get treated, but ye must go now.”
“I dinnae want to leave ye,” Duncan said as Arran pulled out of his grasp and clutched his bleeding side harder.
Arran’s face had begun to pale, but he still held himself steady.
“I shall bring Yvaine back home. I swear it on my life, Duncan. Trust me.”
Duncan stared into his friend’s eyes for a long time then finally nodded and backed away. He knew what he had to do now. He had to prepare for war.
25
After Duncan returned from MacGregor without Yvaine or Arran, he locked himself up in the grand hall with his general and man-at-arms to plan his war.
Amelia had tried to keep herself busy in the meantime. She sat with Elspeth in the garden and tried to console her by telling many stories about herbs and plants and how things in England were different.
Elspeth was quiet most of the time, and even when she spoke, her sadness was obvious.
Amelia reached out to Elspeth that afternoon and placed a hand over hers. “Yvaine shall be all right in the end. I trust that Duncan will win and bring her back. You need not worry too much, Elspeth. Did you know he wanted to kill a man to win my hand?” She shook her head at the memory, for it seemed so far away. “I’m sure he will take care of everything.”
