Page 22 of Highlander’s Escaped Prisoner (Highlands’ Partners in Crime #7)
“ I was about to send out search parties again,” Roy Guthrie said, almost weeping with relief as he wrapped his arms around his daughter again.
“Father, I have only been away for a few hours!” Nessa laughed.
“But you have been crying!” the laird observed, noting the redness around his daughter’s eyes. He looked suspiciously at Bryce.
“He had nothing to do with it,” Nessa said sharply, noting the direction of his gaze. Bryce’s clothes and face were spattered with blood, and he had sustained a few cuts to his chin and jaw. He was not a pretty sight. “Blame Logan for Bryce’s injuries.”
“Where is he?” the laird asked, puzzled. “He should be here.”
Nessa and Bryce exchanged glances. “He is in a room not far from the dungeons,” she replied. She quickly gave her father directions. “Send a healer, Father, then leave a guard with him.”
“But why?” Roy asked. “Is he sick?”
“He is injured,” Bryce answered. “I caught him trying to harm Nessa.”
The laird’s face darkened. “I will kill him!” he growled.
“I have already done half the job for you,” Bryce replied angrily. “He will live, but he will never be handsome again.”
“Nessa, are you harmed, my dear?” Roy asked, looking fearfully into his daughter’s eyes.
“Nessa is fine,” Bryce said, putting a possessive arm around her. “Are you not, my love?”
As Nessa looked up at him, Roy Guthrie saw that whatever happened, Nessa and Roy would never be parted again.
“I am now,” she murmured.
When Bryce and Nessa went into the great hall, everyone else had taken their seats, and there was a murmur of amazement.
Bryce did not allow anyone to address the company before him, not even Laird Guthrie. He strode to the top of the long table hand in hand with Nessa and began to speak.
“I am Bryce Blair, son of Laird Gregor Blair,” he began. “I have just spent seven years in prison for a crime I did not commit, as you all know. I am here to tell you today that the real murderers have been found, and one of them, Logan Crosbie, has confessed. Now Nessa will tell you the rest.”
Nessa stepped forward, squared her shoulders, and tilted her chin up.
“Logan Crosbie tried to hurt me,” she began.
A gasp went around the table. Nessa went on.
“He kidnapped me on the way into the castle earlier today and took me to a room in an isolated part of the castle.
I told him I wanted to end our betrothal, but he would not allow it and said that he would ruin me for any other man.
“He tied me up, and if Bryce had not stopped him in time, I would not be here to tell you my story now.
Bryce saved me by making it impossible for Logan to touch me again because he is lying unconscious in a room downstairs.
Logan revealed to Bryce that he is the one who killed my uncle, Gerald Guthrie.
Logan Crosbie, will go to the dungeons and then to trial for murder, and we will testify against him.”
She was about to go on, but at that moment, Andrew Henderson, who had accepted Roy’s invitation and had come to Drumblane Castle, stood up. “May I interrupt, mistress?” he asked.
“Please do, Master Henderson,” she replied.
Andrew took a deep breath. “I told you when I met you last time that my sources told me that your father was involved in the murder of his brother, and you asked me who my sources were. I told you that I could not tell you because I was afraid for my life. However, now that I am here in your castle, I can tell you as long as you give me your protection.”
“Of course,” Roy agreed. “Tell us, Andrew.”
“There he is -” Andrew said grimly, pointing at Gregor.
“Jamie too. I heard them talking about it just after the murder happened, and Jamie was terrified that Logan would get caught. Laird Gregor had to help, because he owed a debt to Jamie Crosbie.” He paused.
“When I heard them, I dropped the glass I was holding in shock, and then they threatened to kill me if I revealed the truth. They told me that if anyone asked I should tell them Roy Guthrie was involved.” He hesitated to go on.
“Go on, ” Bryce asked.
“Laird Gregor and Jamie Crosbie are part of the murder.” Andrew went on as Jamie came into the hall, looking terrified. “But in the concealment of it.”
Bryce speared Jamie with a glance. “Is this true?” he asked.
Jamie hesitated for a moment and then nodded, his face terrified.
“After the killin’ Logan’s cloak was spattered wi’ blood, so I burned it, an’ that was a’ I did.
Logan is my only child. He killed Gerald because for him, he was a weak Laird.
He believed that the Guthrie Clan would be destroyed by other clans and this is why he acted this way.
He is a mindless man, I’m sorry - I had tae protect him!
” He looked at Bryce with desperation in his eyes.
“Take him to the dungeons,” Roy Guthrie said dismissively.
“And you...” Bryce turned to the chair where his father had been sitting, only to find it empty and the fleeing figure of his father disappearing through the main entrance to the great hall. “Get him!” he cried to the guards as he ran after Gregor Blair.
It only took a moment for two hefty guards to catch and subdue Gregor. When he was caught, he sagged in the arms of the men who were holding him and hung his head in shame so that he did not have to look at his son.
“How could you?” Bryce asked, his voice a mixture of anger and deep hurt.
“I spent seven years of my life in jail for a crime you committed, and if it were not for the grace of God, I might have been hanged. My own father!” He shook his head in disgust, and Nessa, seeing the pain in his eyes, moved to stand by his side and put her arm around his waist.
“I tried to have you released!” Gregor flung back. “They were going to hang you, but I begged for your life, again and again.”
“Why did you not tell them who did the murder?” Bryce demanded. “You allowed me to be thrown into jail for your crime!”
“I—could not.” Once again, Gregor’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I was too much of a coward. I-I am sorry, Son.”
“‘Sorry’ hardly makes up for seven years of my life!” Bryce snapped.
For a moment, he contemplated knocking his father to the floor and beating him senseless as he had done to Logan.
However, as he gazed at the pathetic figure in front of him, he realized that to do so would make him look less of a man in front of the council.
Besides, the guards would very likely pull him away before he could do as thorough a job as he would have liked.
As he felt Nessa’s hand on his arm, he looked down at her, and she gave him the same message.
“Have mercy, Bryce,” she whispered. “Look at him. You are a bigger man than that—in every way.”
Bryce nodded slowly, squared his shoulders, and took a deep breath.
“Since we have been strangers for so long,” he said in an authoritative voice, “and due to the grievous wrong you have done me, I cast you out of my life. I am ashamed to be your son, so you are my father no longer, and your name will never be spoken by me again. If you hang, I will feel nothing. Goodbye, Gregor Blair. You are one of the most despicable men who ever lived.” He watched, his face expressionless, as his father was dragged away.
Despite his bravado, Bryce was bleeding inside at having to say goodbye to the man who had taught him to ride, to climb trees, to play chess, and to handle the estate accounts.
Gregor had hugged him when he fell and hurt his knees, picked him up when he fell off his pony. ..where had it all gone wrong?
Nessa saw the shine of tears in his eyes and wished that she could wipe away his hurt. His outward strength and size belied the tender heart that beat within him, and as she watched him, she could see it breaking.
Suddenly, he took a deep breath and forced a smile onto his face. “Come, Nessa. We have an announcement to make.” He took her hand.
The entire assembly looked up expectantly, and Roy glanced anxiously over at his daughter, but Nessa smiled at him. This was their moment.
“Lairds, ladies, gentlemen,” he said proudly.
“This lovely lady, Nessa Guthrie, daughter of Laird Roy Guthrie, has consented to be my wife. We hope that our union will heal the breach between the Blair and Guthrie clans and that no more lives will have to be sacrificed. However, we are not marrying for that reason, but because we sincerely love each other. We hope that our union will produce children who are loyal to both families and that instead of being adversaries, we will become allies. Perhaps there are some of you who are still doubtful, but we are not. Whether Nessa and I were McDonalds, Frasers, Beatties, McKinnons, or any other clan, we would still be in love with each other, and true love heals every hurt, so we ask you all to give us your blessing.”
A great cheer erupted from the assembly, and when Nessa and Bryce smiled at each other, it was obvious to everyone that their marriage would be a lasting one.
“And since our families will now be related to each other,” Roy said happily as he looked around at the sea of faces before him, “there will be no more arguments about the disputed lands. We will both govern it, and so will the children of Nessa and Bryce, forever.”
More cheering began, then Roy raised his glass. “To Nessa and Bryce!” he exclaimed. “And to love! Sláinte Mhath!”
“Sláinte Mhath!” came the joyful chorus, and after that, the happy couple was surrounded by a throng of well-wishers, and if anyone noticed the sadness in Bryce’s eyes, no one remarked on it except Nessa.
“The past is the past, my darling,” she murmured, when the throng had dispersed. “We cannot change it, but we can make a wonderful future.”
Bryce looked into Nessa’s cloud-colored eyes and smiled. “You are right, Nessa, and I suppose I will learn to forgive him in the end, but it will take a long while.”
“Then I will help you,” she whispered. She looked around as someone touched her elbow.
“I think,” Lady McAllister remarked with a twinkle in her eye, “that we ladies should have a meeting to plan the wedding. There is a bridal dress to design, and we cannot leave such important matters to men!”
“Indeed,” Nessa agreed, laughing. “But if I had to marry this man in a cave with nothing but a sack to wear, I would still wed him and count myself the most fortunate woman alive.”