Page 1 of Claimed by the Ruthless Highlander (Taming the Highland Devils #2)
CHAPTER ONE
" B lasted… who took that paintin'?" Caiden growled, the sound carrying through the silent hall.
The gallery hall of McGibb Castle was long and narrow, lined with tall windows that poured pale morning light over the stone floor. Each wall was adorned with the work of the late Lady McGibb, her delicate brush capturing Highland glens and wild stags with a beauty that lived on beyond her years.
But on this day, the space where his favorite painting had hung, the one of the sea at sunset, was empty. The sight hit him like a blade to the ribs, his jaw tightening as his breath hissed between his teeth.
"I'll cut off their damned hands."
He stood before the center wall, his broad shoulders casting a shadow across the gilded frames. His sharp eyes swept the row once more.
Perhaps it has simply been moved.
His stride was purposeful as he left the gallery, boots echoing in the corridor. His mind burned with suspicion and fury, each step driving the thought deeper that someone had dared touch what was his.
"Fowler!" he shouted for the castle servant as he marched toward the servant area of the castle. "Where are ye?"
"Here, Laird," Fowler appeared scurrying from a room with a bucket of charcoal in hand.
"The paintings in the gallery. Has one been removed for cleanin' or repair without me knowledge?"
"Nay, sir, nae that I'm aware." Fowler trembled.
"Surely ye would be the one to give such an assignment as havin' a paintin' removed for cleanin'. Ye are head of the staff. Find out now, for one is missin'," he said.
He descended the back stairs two at a time, the scents of bread and roasting meat growing stronger as he neared the kitchens. A maid scurried past, bobbing a quick curtsy, but Caiden paid her no heed. He knew where to find the man he sought, for Eric Milne was rarely far from trouble—or from women.
Sure enough, he found Eric in the pantry, leaning far too close to a kitchen maid with wide brown eyes. She held a basket against her apron, her cheeks flushed pink as Eric murmured low words in her ear. Caiden took in the scene with a cold, unblinking stare.
"Eric," he said, his voice like the crack of a whip. "Step away from the lass."
Eric straightened at once, his roguish smile never faltering. "Ah, Laird McGibb. Just keepin' the staff cheerful, aye?" He winked at the maid, who hurried past Caiden with her basket and did not look back.
"I've nay time for yer charms today," Caiden said sharply. "One of me mother's paintings is missin' from the gallery." His eyes were hard as steel. "The sea at sunset. Ye ken the one."
Eric's grin faded. "Missin', ye say? That's bold work, to take from the laird himself." He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the pantry shelf. "When did ye last see it? Mayhaps the staff is merely cleanin' the frame?"
"I last saw it before I left for the inspections.
I had nae gone to the hall since then. Fowler is askin' the staff as we speak if any took it for cleanin'," Caiden replied, his tone clipped.
"I want ye to keep on top of Fowler and find out what he kens.
If nay staff admits to takin' it, then I want ye to set out straight away to find out where it is.
Question everyone, and if it has left the castle, ye will find it. "
Eric's expression shifted, the glint of a fighter replacing the tease of a rogue.
"Aye, I'll find the scoundrel, Laird. I'll nae stop 'til the paintin's in yer hands again.
I ken how to sniff out a rat without stirrin' the nest. If it's one of our own, I'll drag them before ye myself.
If it's an outsider… well, they'll wish they'd never set foot on McGibb land. "
Caiden's mouth twitched in the faintest shadow of approval. "Good. Go. Waste nay more time."
Eric pushed off from the shelf and strode toward the pantry door without another word.
The easy swagger he wore for the kitchen maid was gone, replaced by the coiled readiness of a man on a hunt.
Caiden watched him vanish into the corridor, the weight of his mother's missing work pressing heavy on his mind.
He turned from the pantry and took the narrow passage back toward the great hall, his thoughts dark. Somewhere within the castle walls, or just beyond them, someone had dared to take what belonged to him. They had taken what had belonged to her . And Caiden Byrne would see them pay in full.
The following days were torment. Every morning he went to the gallery hoping to find the painting, but it had not returned. Eric had long left the castle on the mission to track down the painting.
Caiden had been a mess of anger and found himself chopping more wood than necessary simply to rid himself of the frustration.
He stood bare chested beside the woodpile, the muscles in his arms flexing as he brought the axe down in a clean, swift stroke.
Splinters flew, the sound echoing against the castle walls, each strike a release for the restless anger that had not left him since the painting vanished.
The pile of split logs grew, but the fire inside him burned just as hot.
Bootsteps crunched on the ground, drawing Caiden's gaze upward. Eric approached, his dark hair damp from the morning mist.
"Laird," he called, stopping a few paces away. "I've a lead on the man who took yer paintin'."
Caiden rested the axe head-down in the dirt, his dark eyes narrowing.
"Speak." His voice carried the weight of command, deep and low. "Where is the bastard?"
Eric folded his arms. "He's holed up in a village a day's ride to the east. Got word from a trader who swears he saw a paintin' matchin' yer description being sold at the market end of this week."
"Prepare the horses. We ride within the hour." His tone was cold, final. "I'll nae suffer a man to take from me, least of all somethin' that belonged to me mother."
"I thought ye'd say that. But tell me, what's to be done when ye've got him in yer hands? A clean cut of justice, or somethin' slower?" Eric asked as he walked alongside him.
"He must suffer, Eric. For touchin' what was mine, he'll pay in blood and pain. And if he's got friends who helped him, they'll learn that any who steal from Caiden Byrne suffer the same fate."
"I'll see the horses and the men ready."
"Nay, it will be only the two of us. If I arrive with a horde of guards, the entire village will be alerted. We will nae wear our colors. Two brown cloaks, tattered and worn. We shall be disguised," Caiden said.
"I will see it's done." Eric turned on his heel and strode toward the stables.
Caiden headed inside the castle to prepare.
"Fowler!" he shouted as he neared the kitchens. "Where is that blasted…"
"Here, me laird." Fowler scurried in.
"Prepare rations for two men on horseback to last a three-day ride. Send them to Eric in the stable straight away," Caiden said.
"Aye, right away," Fowler said as he turned to give orders to a kitchen maid.
Caiden entered his bedchamber and quickly changed his clothes to a worn tunic and plain kilt that would not give away his status as Laird. However he wore his sword and dirk as always. He tied a scarf around his waist that he planned to use later to cover his face so as not to be recognized.
With no time wasted, he made his way back to the stables ready to ride. There, he found Eric packing their satchels with the food and supplies needed.
"As requested," Eric said, handing him a brown cloak.
"Good. We ride fast but steady so we go unnoticed. I'll nae return without me mother's paintin', nor without the man who dared take it." Caiden's hand tightened on the reins of the stallion, the leather creaking under his grip, as he mounted the saddle.
"I am with ye," Eric said.
"By nightfall tomorrow, Eric," he said, his voice carrying like steel.
"We'll have the thief in our grasp. And he'll ken the price of takin' from me.
He will be made an example of so that no one else dare try such a thing.
To steal from under me very roof. 'Tis unheard of and we must make sure doesnae happen again. "
Eric gave a sharp nod.
Caiden spurred his horse forward, and the two men thundered out of the stables, their breath rising in white clouds. The sound of hooves faded into the hills, leaving McGibb Castle behind to await their return.
Whoever stole from me, I shall have his head.