Page 67 of The Highlander's Princess Bride
Whatever the reason for his brother’s return, it wasn’t for money.
“I can understand how you feel,” Logan finally said. “It was an accident, but it was still my fault.”
Royal stared at him in disbelief. “Jesus, man, you almost drowned trying to save Cam. No one could have tried harder.”
That was true, but Logan had persuaded Nick to let Cam go fishing with his uncles. Nick had made Logan swear to never take his eyes off the lad. His brother had promised, of course, with the reassuring laugh that came too easily to him.
It was the last time Nick had seen his son alive.
“Well, at least ye were able to bring the bairn home,” said Angus. “That was a comfort.”
Nick scoffed. “Comfort? Yes, a small one.” But the image of his vibrant, darling child, locked away forever in a tomb of cold marble, still tore his heart into shreds. “At least my boy had a proper burial.”
“What should comfort you is the knowledge that I will never forgive myself,” Logan said.
“And you expectmeto forgive you when you can’t even forgive yourself?”
“Yes, because you’re a better man than I am.”
Nick reached for his glass. “Not according to your grandfather,” he said before tossing down the rest of his drink.
Angus flushed, his bright red cheeks serving as a dramatic contrast to his snowy white hair. “Now, laddie, ye ken I dinna mean that. I just lost my temper a wee bit.”
Royal hooted. “A wee bit? That’s a laugh.”
“What’s going on here?” Logan asked.
Royal craned around to look at his grandfather. “Would you care to explain, or shall I?”
Angus began to inspect his boots.
“Someone better explain, or I’m going to start bashing heads,” Logan said.
“That’ll be different for you,” Nick said sarcastically.
Logan scowled at him but had the brains to keep his mouth shut. When they were young, his brother had often gotten into fisticuffs just for the fun of it. He’d taken as easily to fighting as he had to drinking and womanizing. Logan had always been larger than life—a lovable rogue, as their stepmother had called him.
“All right, I’ll tell you,” Royal said. “My idiot brothers—”
“The twins, obviously,” Logan interjected.
“Naturally. It would seem the twins set up a moonshining operation. Nick only found out about it yesterday when the customs officers came to call.”
“Bloody hell,” Logan sighed. “And Grandda knew about it, I’m assuming.”
“Correct,” Royal said.
Logan turned in his chair to glare at the old man. “What the hell is the matter with you?”
“According to Angus, I’m the problem,” Nick said. “I abandoned the family when I ‘ran off’ to fight for my country. The twins’ wild ways are, therefore, my fault.”
Logan shook his head. “You were grieving, Nick. No one could blame you for that.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said impatiently. “Angus is right in the sense that I stayed away too long. All the boys needed my help and guidance, and I wasn’t there to provide it.”
“You weren’t exactly whoring in a brothel or drinking yourself under the table all those years,” Royal said. “You were commanding troops in battle.”
“What’s done is done. All I can do now is try to fix the problem.”
