Page 19 of Echoes of a Forgotten Warrior (A Highland Ruse of Love #2)

18

B laire stood in front of the Laird, but he made a show of ignoring her completely. He had dropped his gaze to the document in front of him, where all the charges were written down in his big, sloping handwriting. She snatched it up and read through it quickly.

“As much as many of you would like to deny it,” she began, looking around them with a challenge in her eyes, “I am the only living descendant of Laird Sutherland. I may not have been conceived in a marriage bed, but I carry the Sutherland blood in my veins as surely as all of you do.” She glanced around them, and they returned her look, some impassively, some angrily. Clearly they were not used to a woman talking so frankly, and were obviously uncomfortable.

“Now, I may be only a woman, but I am not a stupid one. I know the laws of succession. The Lairdship must pass down through the male line, and I am not disputing that. However, it need not pass directly through a son. It can pass through me via a man from another clan, which is exactly what Finian Lovatt has suggested. Any children we have then will inherit both clans and join them together as one. Both Laird Lovatt and Laird Sutherland will be patriarchs.”

“And there will be peace,” Finian added.

“But wait,” one of the elders, an old, white-haired man with faded blue eyes, stood up and glared at Blaire aggressively from under lowered brows. “How do we even know that you are Laird Sutherland’s daughter? Why should we believe you?”

Laird Sutherland stared into Blaire’s eyes, trying to intimidate her, but it had no effect at all. She merely stared back at him intently. He straightened up, folded his arms in front of him, and glared down his nose at her.

“M’Laird, will you not admit that my name is Blaire Sutherland?” she asked, trying to keep her temper. She did not want to sabotage herself by appearing too arrogant. “After all, we look like each other, do we not?”

“I admit nothing,” he replied angrily. “You may have a slight resemblance to me, but that does not make you my daughter! You could be anyone!”

However, he was troubled. All his life there had been rumours about his bastard child, and all his life he had denied them, even though he knew them to be true, but he could deny them no more. It would take a huge amount of bravado to bluff his way out of this situation, but he knew he had to be calm and authoritative in front of his men.

He had never wanted anyone to know about his affair with Blaire’s mother, since status was everything in his world, and a child out of wedlock was a disgrace to his name and that of his wife’s. He need not worry about her, though. She had died while Katrina was an infant without giving him any sons. Granted, many men of fine lineage had mistresses, and it increased their prestige to a certain extent by showing their masculinity.

However, to beget a bastard with a woman of a much lower social class was a disgrace. Sutherland would have even forfeited his lineage to keep Blaire’s identity a secret.

Connor watched Blaire, incredulous. He had always known she was strong, but he would never have believed that she could stand in front of a crowd of men and hold her own in an argument where so many were ranged against her.

Granted, the Lovatt faction was there to support him, but they were seated in Rosskern Castle and surrounded by the Sutherland garrison, family and clan elders. They could all be attacked and murdered at any moment, and all that was safeguarding them was trust, which was a very fragile thing.

Cameron Sutherland was not an emotional man, but he had loved Katrina, and her death had left a hole in his life. After her mother had died, she was the only person he could really talk to and confide in, and they were as much friends as father and daughter. This was why he was so determined to avenge her death, but he knew that nothing he could do would ever bring her back.

A slight murmur began around the table as the men began to talk to each other. Something was making them uneasy, and Blaire knew that she was the cause. Blaire had been waiting for this, and she was ready with an answer. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a letter, then handed it to the old man, who wanted to know if there was truth behind her announcement.

“Well, Master,” she said drily, “if the evidence of your own eyes is not enough for you, perhaps this will convince you.”

The old man took the letter and looked at the broken seal, which was still recognisable as the Sutherland crest. He carefully unfolded the paper and began to read it, then he looked up at Blaire again and returned the letter to her, and all doubt was gone from his countenance. He turned to regard Laird Sutherland with an unfathomable expression before sitting down again. Blaire passed the letter on to the next man, who also read it, but looked shocked.

Laird Sutherland stood up. “What is in that letter?” he demanded, reaching out for it.

Blaire took a step backwards and held the letter behind her so that it was out of his reach. “Let me read it to you,” Blaire suggested. “ Lorraine, for your sake and that of the infant you are carrying, I suggest you leave the castle and go and live in the village. I will provide a house for you, but after this, I do not wish to hear from or see you again.

If you tell anyone that the child is mine, I will deny it, and you will suffer serious consequences. Laird Cameron Sutherland. ”

There was a signature at the bottom, a flamboyant flourish that Blaire knew was his because every one of the Sutherlands recognised it.

Blaire looked up at her father and raised her eyebrows. “The signature is yours, M’Laird—or should I say Father?’”

She held the letter up so that her father could see it, but kept it carefully out of his way, and for a moment, he looked horrified, then he regained his composure and glared at his daughter with pure hatred in his eyes.

Blaire held his gaze until the Laird looked away, then she moved over to where Connor was standing with a guard on each side of him.

Connor had been watching the proceedings, his heart breaking. He had no idea Blaire was the Laird’s child, and she must have had a very good reason to hide, but now she was revealing it all for his sake. He knew that both Blaire and Finian were making this sacrifice for the sake of both their families, and also for him, but that did not make it any easier to bear.

Blaire moved across to him, taking in the pallor of his face as he gazed at her with shock and sadness. “I am truly sorry, James,” she said, speaking as quietly as she could so as not to be heard by anyone else, “for not telling you who I really am, but the secret of my father’s identity was known by very few people, and now you know why.”

Connor just nodded slowly. Blaire felt wretched knowing that she was responsible for his unhappiness, but she could think of no way of solving the problem other than the route they were taking. He could not turn away from her, but he dropped his gaze to the floor to avoid her eyes.

Blaire looked at Laird Lovatt, who had taken no part in the discussion thus far. He appeared to be deep in thought, and she had a feeling that he was still uncertain, unsure of what the consequences of such a marriage would be. He gave the general impression of being lethargic and ill, she thought, and wondered if he was sickening for something. Perhaps, in that eventuality, she would be called to help him. She was surprised to find herself feeling rather sorry for him. Both of the Lairds were stern and authoritative men, but he appeared to be by far the weaker of the two.

“We will adjourn to the Great Hall to deliberate,” Laird Sutherland said, with an air of superiority. “You,”—he pointed to Blaire and Finian—“go to the parlour and wait for us. It won’t take long.”

The entire party left, and the crowd at the gate was forcefully dispersed. They left with very bad grace, booing, yelling and swearing as they went.

Connor was dragged away, and Blaire and Finian watched him sadly until he was out of sight.

“What do you think they will do with him?” Blaire asked.

“I have no idea,” Finian answered. “If Laird Sutherland were my father , I might have some idea” he hinted. “But he is not.”

“I’m sorry for startling you. He is my father,” Blaire said bitterly, “but I hardly know him. I never told you before, but I came to ask him if there was some other way to end this feud, but he only told me that Connor should be found and brought to justice.”

“You’re a very brave woman,” Finian remarked, smiling at her. “I admire you for that. It’s one of the reasons Connor loves you, I think.”

Blaire smiled. “Thank you,” she answered. “And what about you? The lady in your life, Isla, was it?”

“Yes,” Finian replied. His voice was thick with sadness. “But we are not here to discuss her now. We must concentrate on Connor. I have a dreadful feeling that they are going to end his life, and I would never forgive myself if they did.”

“You were the one who gave me the courage to stand up in front of my father,” she told him. “I admire you for that, Finian. Connor is lucky to have a brother like you who is prepared to fight on his behalf.”

“I am not so sure,” Finian replied, avoiding her eyes. “I feel as if I have not done enough.”

Something about the gesture made Blaire feel a little uneasy, but she quickly dismissed it. She was reading the worst into everything.

“You have done the best you can,” she told him.

“You understand.” He looked at her admiringly. “Then if we two have to marry, I think we can work well together.”

“I do, too.” Blaire smiled at him. “I think we can be friends, at least.”

Finian smiled. “Indeed.” He poured a glass of wine for her, then his face became sombre again. “Enough about us. Connor has suffered enough, and he must be going through torture at this moment.”

Blaire looked at Finian’s face and tried to put herself in his place. She loved Connor, but in a different way, and she was suffering too.

“Because of this situation,” she said, “we are all in purgatory, but all it really needs to get us out of it is the forgiveness of the two Lairds. No one at all needs to be punished apart from the bandits who committed the murder.”

Blaire was seething inside as she voiced the thought, but Finian only shrugged and shook his head. He focused his gaze on some point over her shoulder, and again Blaire had a strange feeling of uneasiness. She followed his gaze, but saw nothing but the sky through the window.

“Blaire, those two are as stubborn as mules, and they will only do what suits them.” His voice was flat and resigned.

This was true. Some powerful men always did what was right for themselves, caring nothing for anyone else, even if those people were spouses or blood relatives. There were exceptions, of course, but it seemed that their fathers were not among them.

They sat in silence for a while, then a maidservant entered and bowed to them. “The Laird will see ye now,” she announced.

Blaire and Finian exchanged glances. “Are you as scared as I am?” she asked.

“Probably,” he replied. “But don’t give up hope. The news might be better than we think, Blaire.”

W HEN THEY STEPPED into the Great Hall, they quickly became aware of an atmosphere of heavy tension. Finian pulled out a chair for Blaire and sat down beside her, facing the two Lairds, then they both looked at them expectantly.

“We have taken note of your suggestion of marriage to unite the two families,” Laird Sutherland began. “And Laird Lovatt and I have decided that it is the best solution to our problem.”

That was when they realised that Connor was there, hidden away at the very end of the room between two strong guards.

“No!” he cried, and Blaire could hear the agony in his voice, but it was the only word he managed to say before one of the big men put a hand over his mouth and whispered something in his ear.

Blaire looked at him. He was a pitiful sight. His clothes were filthy, as was his face, and she knew that the guards had manhandled him, since there was a big bruise on his cheekbone. She would have run over to him given half a chance, but her attention was suddenly jerked back to Laird Sutherland.

“The marriage will take place tomorrow,” he went on. “Here in the castle chapel. The immediate family will be the only witnesses.”

“So Connor can attend?” Finian asked hopefully.

“I was just coming to that,” Laird Sutherland answered. “Connor will be starting his sentence here in Rosskern, so no, he will not be coming to the wedding.”

Blaire was relieved, but felt guilty because of it. She had not wanted Connor to see her being married to another man, even if it was Finian, his beloved brother.

“What is his sentence?” she asked fearfully.

“Twelve years imprisonment,” Laird Sutherland answered, his tone flat and heavy, daring Blaire to object. He nodded and the guards dragged away a struggling Connor once again.

Blaire felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. They could not possibly do this to Connor—he was simply not capable of the crime of which they had accused him.

“You have yet to prove your case,” she said firmly, trying to keep her voice from trembling. She looked across at Finian, who had gone pale with shock. “You have no witnesses, nothing but a few hoofprints and a crashed carriage, and that could easily have been an accident. You have nothing!”

“Really?” Laird Sutherland’s eyes were alight with malice. “We have the corpse of my daughter and the disappearance of Connor Lovatt. We need not have a witness because circumstances prove him guilty.”

“But he fought for you!” Blaire could not keep the emotion out of her voice any longer.

“He was a spy,” the Laird growled. “Now, I will say no more about it.” He looked around the room. “We have a wedding to arrange.”

“Why the haste?” Finian asked, puzzled.

“Why delay?” Laird Lovatt answered this time, shrugging. “We are not planning a huge event, so why wait?”

“What about Blaire’s dress?” Finian persisted. He cared nothing about bridal finery, but he wanted any excuse to delay the ceremony.

“She can wear one of Katrina’s,” Sutherland replied dismissively. He cast an irritable glance at his daughter and stood up. “You can all stay here tonight. Excuse us, we have arrangements to make.” He walked away with Laird Lovatt, leaving Finian and Blaire alone, since Connor had been taken away after his sentence was pronounced.

“That man is a monster,” Finian said furiously. “Twelve years—I cannot believe it! He was even mean about the dress.”

“I think that was the general idea,” Blaire said grimly. “But there’s something that concerns me more, Finian. You have just seen a tiny bit of his cruelty. My father said he would give Connor twelve years in prison, but he will not. I know for certain that he will not let him serve twelve hours. Connor will be dead by this time tomorrow if we do nothing.”

Finian looked at her in horror, then his expression changed to one of fury. “That will never happen!” he declared. “Not while I am alive to stop it!”