Page 36 of A Wife for the Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #3)

Alasdair walked down the passageway, the entrance to the Great Hall coming into view. Finn walked right beside him, his steady footsteps a sharp contrast to Alasdair’s urgent ones.

“I daenae like the look on yer face,” Finn commented, his voice low. “I wouldnae want ye to do something ye will regret.”

Alasdair ignored him, his gaze sweeping the halls. “Where is Nathan anyway? He should be here. I told him to help me get Thomas into a separate room.”

“Alasdair,” Finn tried again.

But Alasdair didn’t stop. His shoulders were tight, his chest heaving.

“Wait,” Finn snapped, and this time he caught Alasdair’s arm, forcing him to stop.

Alasdair’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“I want ye to think very carefully about what ye’re about to do,” Finn insisted.

Alasdair exhaled, his jaw set. “I’ve thought about it plenty. If Thomas is behind the attacks, I need to ken. The best way to ken is to face him. Alone. Away from the others.”

Finn’s eyes flashed. “And what if he’s nae the only one? What if there are more? Ye take him into a room, ye tip them off. Then, ye’re nae fighting one man, but ten.”

“Ye daenae understand, Finn.” Alasdair’s voice dropped. “He is me uncle. He was the one who begged me to return. He said the clan was failing. He asked me to lead. How could he betray me? How?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying,” Finn shot back. “Think. If he asked ye to come, why would he turn around and try to kill ye? Is there nae a chance, just a chance, that he’s nae involved at all?”

Alasdair’s throat tightened. “We need to confront him about it.”

At that moment, a maid came down the corridor.

Alasdair raised his hand, stopping her. “Find Nathan. Tell him that I need him at once.”

“Aye, me Laird.” The maid bobbed a curtsy and scurried away.

Alasdair turned back to Finn. They stood before the doors to the Great Hall now, voices muffled inside. He straightened and put his hand on the wood. “Time to end this, once and for all.”

Finn sighed, but followed as Alasdair pushed the doors open.

The councilmen rose to their feet at once.

“Sit,” Alasdair said, his voice even.

They obeyed, though curiosity flickered in their eyes.

Alasdair’s gaze flicked to Thomas. “Uncle, I am glad ye could join us today.”

Thomas nodded. “I heard about the attack during the cèilidh. A vile thing. I trust nay one was gravely injured?”

“Nay one was,” Alasdair replied, his voice flat. “Save for the men who intruded.”

The councilmen shifted, silence falling like a weight.

Alasdair kept his eyes on Thomas. “Ye wouldnae ken anything about that, would ye?”

Thomas blinked, then nodded once. “I regret nae coming sooner. I should have been here the moment word reached me.”

Colm, one of the older councilmen, cleared his throat. “Aye. That is partly why we meet today. To settle this matter once and for all.”

“Aye,” Alasdair said, his voice hard. “We’ll settle it.”

Thomas leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Where is yer man-at-arms? He is usually by yer side.”

“I’ve asked a maid to fetch him. Ye neednae worry.”

“Good.” Thomas nodded slowly. “Good.”

“Good,” Alasdair uttered.

Thomas shifted in his seat and furrowed his brow. “Me Laird, is everything well? Ye look… unsettled. As though something weighs heavily on yer mind.”

“I daenae ken, Uncle,” Alasdair said, leaning forward, his voice sharp. “Ye tell me.”

“Me Laird—” Finn warned.

“Are ye here to finish the job ye couldnae finish yesterday?” Alasdair spoke over him.

One of the councilmen let out a sharp gasp.

Thomas rose from his chair, fury etched on his face. “What in God’s name are ye saying?”

Alasdair crossed his arms, his gaze steady. “If ye’ve something to confess, now would be the time.”

“Me Laird—” Colm began, confused.

“How dare ye?” Thomas thundered. “How dare ye accuse me of such a thing?”

“Well,” Alasdair snapped, “all evidence points to ye. In truth, it seems to point to all of ye.” He turned, his voice carrying through the hall.

The councilmen’s eyes remained on him, but he didn’t care. Not anymore.

Not when Lily’s life was hanging in the balance and he didn’t even know where she was.

“Me Laird, I really think—” Finn started.

“So if any man here has something to say, now’s the time to say it!” Alasdair shouted, his fist slamming into the table and rattling the cups.

Colm’s face paled. “Me Laird, I beg yer pardon, but every man here, including yer uncle, has wished only the best for ye and yer wife.”

“Aye,” another councilman chimed in. “We called for a meeting to ask about her alliances. We cannae wish her dead. Since we learned of her, we have stood behind ye.”

“Oh, have ye?” Alasdair’s voice rose. “Or have ye been pretending? Smiling in me face while plotting to stab me in the back? Waiting to strike at me wife when she is alone?”

The silence stretched out, causing his eyes to burn.

“Hear me now. Whoever seeks our deaths will find worse waiting for them.”

More silence followed, almost as thick as the tense looks on their faces.

Alasdair was panting hard, studying every one of them. They all looked immensely shaken, as if the slightest movement would give away their thoughts.

Good . That was what he wanted anyway.

Lily raised her hand and knocked gently on the door. The village was too quiet for her liking, and every second she spent in front of the door sent more shivers down her spine.

Conall stood behind her, his sword already drawn.

Lily couldn’t blame him. Now, they needed to be prepared for anything. Nothing was off limits.

Brigid leaned close. “Are ye sure this is it?” she hissed.

“Aye,” Lily replied, her voice shaking slightly. “This is where Sorcha said I would find Timothy and Clara.”

Brigid scrunched up her face, the unease clear in her eyes. “Lily… what do ye truly ken about Sorcha?”

Lily turned, surprised. “What are ye saying?”

Brigid took a nervous breath. “Ye said yerself there was a traitor within the castle walls. Sorcha was the one who told ye to come here. What if she also told those men where to wait for us? What if this is all a trap?”

Lily shook her head, her heart lurching. “Nay. Sorcha would never do that.”

Brigid furrowed her brow. “How can ye be so certain? Ye did say she’s the sister of Alasdair’s man-at-arms. Maybe she thinks her braither should be Laird instead of yer husband.

Maybe she wants both of ye out of the way.

” She gestured toward the door. “And now we’re standing here, knocking, like lambs before the slaughter.

What do ye expect will meet us on the other side? ”

Before Lily could form an answer, the lock clicked and the door creaked open. She swallowed in relief as Timothy appeared, an urgent look on his face.

“Me Lady,” he greeted, his expression a cross between relief and alarm.

Lily exhaled hard, the knot in her chest loosening. “Good. For a moment, I feared we were at the wrong place.”

Timothy opened the door wider and ushered them inside. As soon as they crossed the threshold, he shoved the bolt into place, his hands trembling. “The men are rabid . They’re out on every road, baying for blood. How in God’s name did ye make it this far in the first place?”

“Aye, we saw them,” Conall responded grimly. “We had to cut through a few before reaching yer door.”

Timothy’s gaze snapped to Lily. “But why risk it, me Lady? It isnae safe for ye here. Did anyone follow ye?”

“Nae that we noticed,” Lily said. Her eyes drifted down to his foot, catching the way he moved. “Yer limp… ’tis almost gone. Oh, that is fantastic, Timothy!”

Timothy glanced down as if he had just realized it himself. “Aye. I stopped leaning on the cane two days ago.”

Lily nodded. “That’s good. Sorcha told me Clara was in labor. The midwives are gone, so the task falls to me. Where is she?”

“In the back room,” Timothy said. His eyes clouded over, as if he were debating whether to speak further. “But me Lady, the danger outside is real. If I had ken ye would come, I’d have begged ye to stay away. The men have lost their minds.”

“Ye’re telling me,” Lily scoffed, wiping sweat from her brow.

“They’re bloodthirsty, me Lady. Much more than anyone I’ve ever seen. Apparently, their leader ordered them to be on the lookout for ye everywhere.”

“Who is in charge of these men anyway?”

“No one kens. All we ken is that they are after ye.”

Lily’s jaw tightened. “And for what reason? I’ve done nothing but care for them whenever I could.”

Timothy’s shoulders sagged. “I ken that. I’m proof of it. But others think differently. They whisper ye’re something unnatural.” He lowered his voice. “They call ye a witch.”

Lily’s eyes locked onto his. “And do ye believe that? Do ye also think I’m a witch?”

Without hesitation, Timothy shook his head. “Never. Nae once. Ye’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met. I would sooner die than stand with those beasts outside.”

Lily nodded, grateful for the support, even if minimal.

Conall stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. “Ye said they had a leader?”

“Aye.” Timothy nodded. “They may be strong men, but they’re nae smart enough to pull something like this on their own. Someone is definitely pulling the strings somewhere.”

Lily’s lips parted, but before she could speak, a piercing scream rattled through the house.

Timothy stiffened, and Lily’s heart lurched. “Clara?”

He gave a stiff nod.

Lily squared her shoulders. “Then there’s nay time to waste. We see to the birth. Everything else can wait.”

Timothy hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Aye. But before ye go in—did ye bring horses?”

“A carriage,” Conall responded. “Our driver, Arthur, is waiting outside with it.”

“Arthur must come in,” Timothy said quickly. “I’ll take the reins and move the carriage to the back lane. If the mob passes this way, they willnae see it. If they ken ye’re here, all of us will be for the noose.”

Lily gave him a grateful nod. “Thank ye, Timothy.”

He gestured toward the narrow corridor. “She’s in there.” Then, he slipped out the front to see to the carriage.

They hurried down the corridor, their steps brisk until they got to the room. Lily opened the door gently, and the smell of sweat and tears hit her immediately.

Clara lay on the bed, gripping the mattress so hard that her knuckles turned white. Her face was drenched, and her hair was plastered to her skin.

“Oh, ye brave woman,” Lily cooed, stepping inside.

Clara lifted her head as they entered. “Me Lady?” Her voice cracked. “What are ye doing here?”

“That doesnae matter,” Lily said softly, moving closer. “What matters is delivering yer child safely.”

“But the men—” Clara began, her voice trembling.

“Damn the men,” Lily cut her off. “Tell me, how far apart are the pains?”

Clara gasped for breath. “Every few minutes. Close now.”

“Good.” Lily nodded, though her heart pounded. “Soon, ye’ll need to push.”

Brigid stepped forward, her hands shaking. “What can I do to help?”

“Aye,” Conall piped up, sword still in hand, his gaze flicking to the windows. “What of me?”

Lily turned to Brigid. “Find the kitchen. Bring back as much hot water and clean cloth as ye can carry.”

Brigid nodded briskly.

Lily then turned to Conall. “I need ye outside this door. Stand guard.”

Conall gave a short nod and stepped into the corridor.

Brigid glanced back, her eyes settling on Clara. “Where’s the kitchen?”

“Second door to the right,” Clara panted.

Brigid hurried off, and the door closed behind them.

Lily leaned against it for the briefest of moments, trying her best to steady her breathing.

“It’s been a hard day for ye, has it nae, me Lady?” Clara whispered.

Lily managed a tight smile. “Aye. And if I ken anything about me luck, the hardest part’s still ahead.”

Clara tried to laugh, but a guttural groan tore out of her instead. She doubled over, crying out.

Lily hurried to her side and clasped her arm. “Easy now. Breathe through it. Ye’re nae alone.”

Another scream tore from Clara’s throat. “Oh, this is torture.”

“It just means it’s coming and we cannae wait anymore.”

Clara looked up at Lily, her exhaustion evident.

“I need ye to be strong one more time, do ye understand me?”