Page 42 of A Wife for the Highland Wolf
“I daenae ken whether they were brigands or hired warriors. Given the way the bodies disappeared, I’ve long suspected the former.” His jaw clenched. “Doesnae matter. I still failed to protect me wife. Her death is me fault, because I wasnae strong, fast or careful enough to keep her safe.”
“But ye couldnae control everythin’. Anyone can be overwhelmed.” Lydia felt her heart breaking for him.
Murdoch’s expression warped. “Mayhap, but that’s nae the whole reason tis me fault.” His fists clenched. “She was sore injured but alive when the last of the attackers fled. I could have saved her, but there was Finn to worry about. I couldnae be sure of being able to protect both of them or keeping them both in the saddle with me if I tried to get them both to the castle.”
He stopped then, but Lydia didn’t need him to say anything more. It was clear that he’d chosen to save Finn, and his wife had passed away while he was trying to save his son.
She laid a hand on his arm. “Shall we see how Finn is doing? He should be getting ready to go to bed right now.”
Murdoch relaxed a little, though his expression was still troubled. “Aye.”
Together, they walked a few doors down to the nursery. The maid was tucking the bairn into his bed, but she bowed and moved aside as they stepped inside. Together they made their way to Finn’s bedside.
Finn gurgled at them sleepily, his chubby hands waving loosely in their direction. Lydia put one finger in his hand and smiled ashis fist closed around it. Beside her, Murdoch reached down to stroke his son’s face.
“He’s all right.” Lydia spoke softly. “And I’m sure yer wife would have agreed with the choice ye made.”
“I ken she did. But that doesnae mean I hold nay responsibility for what happened to her. I failed to protect her.”
They stood watching the child for a few more minutes, as Finn slid into sleep.
Murdoch straightened and took Lydia’s arm to lead her from the room, his expression grim. He guided her to the door of her quarters, then turned to face her. “I was a fool to bring ye here. The contract was never about ye and it was a mistake to bring ye to me home and place ye in danger.”
It felt as if ice was being pumped into her veins. Something cold and heartbreaking was beginning to fill her with foreboding. “What are ye sayin’?”
Her voice cracked slightly, but Murdoch’s expression didn’t change at all . “I’m sayin’ that I want ye to leave. First thing in the morning, ye will depart for yer home.”
23
Murdoch could see the shock in her face as he spoke. Shock and betrayal. For a moment his will wavered, but he stiffened his resolve.
He wasn’t surprised, however, when she regained her composure a moment later. “Ye cannae mean that.”
“I can, and I do. Havin’ ye here was a mistake. Tomorrow mornin’ ye’ll go home. That’s me final word on the matter.”
“Why?” Shock gave way to anger and indignation. “Ye think I’ll be in danger if I stay? That I might get killed?” Her eyes glittered with determination. “Tis nae as if I’m helpless. I’m stronger than I look. I also have Hector and I can use a bow and arrow. Isobel taught me, so I’m a fair good shot, ye ken?”
She looked so determined, like a kitten facing down a wild boar. It was endearing and heart-breaking. He knew all too well that a kitten could never survive such a confrontation.
Murdoch let his lip curl. “I daenae care if ye can defend yerself. I daenae want or need ye here. Tomorrow mornin' I expect ye to leave and if ye disobey I’ll have ye thrown out by force.”
He could see the tears of hurt shimmer in her eyes. For a moment he wanted to reach out and brush them away before kissing her and telling her he’d changed his mind.
With a curse, he turned and stalked away from her, his back rigid with anger and self-loathing.
Let her think I have disdain for her or am unwilling to tolerate her weakness. She will be safer if she departs in hurt and anger as a spurned lover, than remain here as a corpse in my castle.
Even if his decision led to war with Clan Clyde or to his removal from the lairdship, he would not waver.
If what he suspected was correct it was better this way. Lydia needed to be out of harm’s way before he acted to confirm his suspicions.
In the meantime, he already knew he was never going to be able to sleep.I might as well get some work done.Murdoch made his way to the study, already planning his next steps. He had guardsto talk to, plans to make, and arrangements to see to to make sure Lydia returned to Clyde Castle quickly and safely.
Plans and questioning didn’t take long and Murdoch found himself in his study in the early hours of the morning, cursing that he hadn’t managed to find more tasks to occupy his time.
Scowling, he went to a cabinet and pulled out a glass and a bottle of scotch. He cracked the seal and poured a generous measure into the glass.
Several candle-marks later the sun was rising over the garden and he’d refilled the glass three times to no avail. He was no closer to the bliss of drunken forgetfulness than he’d been before he’d begun.
