Page 54 of The Lass Defended the Laird (Explosive Highlanders 2)

“Well, you should control your woman better.” Pure rage invaded him at that.

Lachlan’s hands flew to the man’s collar before Drostan could even breathe. “You disgusting villain!” His youngest brother hissed.

Terror smothered the chieftain’s stance. James watched the tableau with squinted eyes.

“Lachlan.” Drostan called evenly despite the turmoil his anger produced in him. “Let him go, please.” Though his blood boiled with fury, he did not wish to give these men an excuse to retaliate.

His brother took long seconds eyeing Ross with contempt before he let go with a jerk. Ross nearly fell with the roughness of it.

“The thing is,” Fingal spoke for the first time in an icy tone. “If you continue to threaten my sister-in-law and nephew, we will have no choice but take this with The McPherson.”

“You cannot prove anything.” James interposed. “She is not the first McPherson to abandon her husband. No one would give credit to your accusations.”

Drostan should have asked Taran to join them here. These men deserved a monstruous thrashing.

“It is not the first time you and Ross show your bad blood.” Drostan stated. “Do you imagine The McPherson would believe you over The McKendrick?”

At this, James displayed a healthy dose of apprehension.

“So, Ross,” Fingal returned even icier. “Stop your threats or you might lose your chieftainship and lands.”

Both McPherson brothers looked at him with no small complacency. They certainly trusted that, with Freya and Ewan out of the way, their plans would come out on top. Mother and son were witnesses to their plotting. With them missing, the brothers were almost untouchable.

“We are not losing anything because we are guilty of nothing.” Ross threw.

“Of course not.” Lachlan ironized.

“I will find my family.” Drostan added. “By then we will see.”

“Be my guest.” Ross bowed mockingly.

“I do not think this went too well.” Lachlan started an hour into their ride back.

The three of them trotted their horses in grim silence. Face to face with the men who caused so much distress to Freya and Ewan had been an exercise in self-control. For the three McKendricks!

“It did.” Came Drostan’s confident retort.

“How would that be? They did not look intimidated at all.” The youngest answered with disdain.

“For one, they will sit back smug that their plan is working like a charm.” The Laird listed. “Which I made sure to emphasise by asking for my wife.”

“And they know we know.” Fingal complemented.

“Exactly.” Drostan said.

“So they will not overestimate their luck.” Concluded Lachlan.

The eldest nodded. “They will thread carefully from now on.”

“They did get intimidated without even realising it.” Celebrated the third McKendrick.

“I would say so.” Fingal had a side smile on him.

“Let us hope it will buy us time until we hear from Irvine.” The McKendrick replied.

Freya could not sit still for the life of her. And she tried. Hard. Worried sick, she haunted the manor’s every room looking for something that would take her mind from her husband’s safety. She even requested a bath, speculating that the warm water might calm her nerves. To no avail.

The McKendricks’ argumentation that the brothers would not get harmed seemed sensible, but did not put her at ease. Ross’s ambitions overruled him, and the wait for his turn to be the Laird did not help. She had dealt with him for a long time. She was aware of the limitations. More than that, her kin threatened to harm Drostan in clear words. The thought alone caused terror to quake over her.

---