Page 21 of Marry the Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #1)
CHAPTER 21
Conall woke up to Brigid’s warm body in his arms and the first rays of the morning sunlight streaming through his chamber window. For several long moments, he was content to simply lie there, savoring the warmth that remained of last night’s passion and heat.
Brigid Barr. The name rolled around in his mouth, and he savored that too, like a particularly potent glass of whiskey. Brigid Barr, formerly Blackwood. His wife.
He’d expected a virgin’s hesitation last night, but she’d welcomed him with a warmth and desire that more than matched his own, and the lovemaking that had followed, the release he’d found, had almost robbed him of breath.
Such a responsive, giving lass. It was hard to believe that she was his wife… wife and lover. He’d never had a lover so welcoming. And the way she’d looked at him…
He’d been reluctant to bed any woman after he’d been scarred. He’d seen the way people’s gazes tended to linger on the wound or turn away in disgust or discomfort. Or worse, pity, as if the scar disfigured him to the point of making him undesirable. He’d not wanted to see such expressions while bedding a lass, whether it was for pleasure and companionship or simple release.
But Brigid didn’t look at him as if he were disfigured. She didn’t look at him as if the scar mattered at all. In fact, she barely seemed to notice it.
It was hard to believe that such a warm and loving woman had become his wife. Even more astounding, and disquieting, was the realization he’d come to while drifting off after their lovemaking.
He’d thought, in the beginning, that marrying Brigid was the price he was willing to pay in order to have peace with Clan Auchter. That marriage to a stranger was a small price to pay for a truce that would spare his clan even more bloodshed than it had already sustained.
But then he’d come to know Brigid. Come to care for her. It seemed incredible, but slowly, over the past few days, his feelings had changed. Now, he understood the real truth—that peace with Eric Holdenson and Clan Auchter was the price he was willing to accept to have Brigid by his side forever.
It seemed an easy decision to him. However, in the cold light of morning, he remembered Oliver’s disquiet and the whispers he’d heard at Auchter’s brief intrusion. Not everyone in the clan felt the same way he did regarding Brigid and the truce with Clan Auchter. Not everyone trusted her as he did.
The memory also reminded him that there was one person he’d not spoken to yet about the truce or his marriage. One person whose blessing and acceptance he still needed.
Conall slipped carefully and quietly from the bed, moving slowly to avoid disturbing Brigid. She shifted, and he paused, but then she curled deeper into the blankets, and he breathed a sigh of relief.
For a moment, he considered waking Brigid and asking her to come with him. Then, he discarded the idea. Brigid could accompany him on a later visit, but for this one, he wanted to be alone. There were some things that needed to be addressed—some words that needed to be spoken in solitude.
He dressed quickly and stealthily, splashed some water over his face, and combed his hair into a rough sort of order with his fingers, before slipping silently out of his chambers. There were very few servants about at this time in the morning, and it was easy for him to leave the castle without anyone seeing him.
He could have taken a horse, but he knew he was traveling no great distance, and it was easier to sneak out of the gates on foot. Perhaps it was reckless of him, but he wanted solitude for the journey, and alerting the guards made it far more likely that Oliver or someone else would feel compelled to follow him.
Nay. I need to do this alone.
Within moments, he was outside the walls of MacKane Castle, the golden light of sunrise just beginning to warm the rough grey stone of the castle walls.
Conall inhaled the crisp, early morning air, then moved away from the wall, his steps quick and purposeful.
Brigid woke up to mid-morning sunlight dancing through her windows. She had slept far later than she had intended, but she was warm and full of contentment she’d never experienced before, and she smiled to herself as she reached out, searching instinctively for Conall.
The bed, however, was empty, and the sheets on Conall’s side were cold, suggesting he’d been gone for some time.
Brigid blinked, her contentment fading as she sat up in the bed, rubbing her eyes as she looked around the room for some sign of him.
Conall’s chambers were large and airy, but not so large that she couldn’t see instantly that her husband wasn’t there. The bed was disappointingly empty. The clothes she vaguely remembered him tossing aside impatiently the night before were gone, as were his boots and belt.
Brigid wrapped her arms around herself, feeling suddenly cold.
Conall had dressed and left sometime while she’d been asleep. Why, she didn’t know. He hadn’t even left a note or tried to wake her to explain.
Is it because of something I’ve done? Is he displeased or disappointed with his new wife? Or is it simply that he married me purely to secure peace with Clan Auchter, and now that he’s achieved that, he has nay further use for me?
Brigid shook her head firmly in an attempt to banish the thoughts. She couldn’t believe they were true—she refused to. Last night had been too wonderful for her to believe that Conall could be disappointed in her or see her purely as a bargaining chip. Besides, she’d resolved to trust her husband with her life and her heart, and she was determined to do so. She refused to let her conviction waver so easily.
There would be some reasonable explanation for his absence, she was sure. Like as not, Conall had simply slipped away to attend to some of his duties as Laird of Clan MacKane. Newlywed or not, he had responsibilities as the Laird of his clan, and she couldn’t blame him for attending to them while she slept.
I wonder if he will permit me to share those responsibilities, now that they we’re married.
The idea was somewhat daunting but also pleasing. Smiling slightly, and feeling reassured that she would find out the reason for Conall’s absence soon enough, Brigid slipped from the bed and went to collect her dress from where it still lay on the floor, meaning to put it on and then go straight back to her room to change.
I cannae wander around all day in my wedding dress, after all.
She pulled the dress on, smiling slightly at the ache in her gut, which served as a pleasant reminder of the night before. She was just pinning up her hair when a knock sounded at the door, and she opened it to admit all three of her sisters.
Lily was the first to embrace her. “Och, ye look happy,” she said with a knowing smile, which made Brigid blush.
“Here,” she added, handing her a small vial. “Ye’ll want to drink that. ’Twill help with the soreness.”
Valerie and Megan were both sporting wide, wicked smirks, and Brigid’s cheeks burned crimson.
“Och, the three of ye…” She swallowed, pocketed the vial, and hugged each of her sisters. “Come, we should go down for the morning meal,” she said, suddenly realizing how hungry she was.
The four of them made their way to the Great Hall, which was crowded as usual. Servants bustled to and fro, carrying platters of food, the scents from which made Brigid’s mouth water. She half expected to see Conall in his usual seat at the head of the table, but he was still absent. So were Oliver and Emily, which was another sign that Conall was most likely attending to clan business.
Instead of taking the larger seats at the head of the table, usually reserved for the Laird and his lady wife, Brigid and her sisters gathered around the other end of the High Table for a less formal meal, with Brigid and Lily on one side and Megan and Valerie on the other.
Once they’d all eaten a few bites, Brigid opened the vial her sister had given her earlier and drained it, wincing at the bitter taste. She washed it down with the tea one of the maids poured for her, then voiced the question that had been bouncing around in her mind ever since the night before, when she’d found out about Conall’s offer to accept her sisters into the clan.
“So,” she said, clearing her throat nervously. “What will ye do now, all of ye?”
Valerie sighed. “We’ll have to return to the cottage,” she said, helping herself to more meat. “There are chores to be done, and we all have tasks to take care of. I have two dresses I need to finish, and Lily’s busy restockin’ the still room. And Megan…”
“Hunting and leather work and tannin’ the hides,” Megan supplied helpfully. “Amongst other things.”
Brigid swallowed her tea, trying her best to ignore the heartache that had caught her like a blow to the chest at the thought of them leaving.
“Have ye considered Conall’s offer?” she asked, putting the cup back down. “Have ye thought about comin’ to live here? Joinin’ Clan MacKane?”
She spoke carefully, not wanting to put unfair pressure on her sisters or make them feel guilty if they’d already decided against the idea. All the same, though, hope made her heart beat a little faster as she waited for their reply.
“We have, Brigid.”
Lily put a hand on her sister’s, and Brigid’s heart sank. “’Tis certainly a welcome invitation, but none of us is used to clan life. And we’re nae ignorant of the whispers we’ve heard about the tensions between Clan MacKane and Clan Auchter. We ken the Laird has promised to make us welcome, and we would like to be near ye, Brigid, but kennin’ all that… well, it makes it a difficult decision. ’Tis a matter we need to consider carefully.”
Brigid nodded, her eyes downcast.
It was the answer she had been expecting, after all. Her sisters were cautious by nature, and uprooting themselves from everything they’d ever known was, as Lily said, a difficult decision. She understood their reticence. However, she couldn’t help but wish they would stay. It was the only thing she needed to complete her happiness.
“Ye ken, even if we dinnae join the clan, ye can still come back and visit us whenever ye wish,” Valerie said, smiling at her reassuringly. “Now that ye’re a married lass and a lady of a clan, there’s nay one in the village who would dare insult or harass ye—or us, for that matter. Why dinnae ye come back wit’ us when we leave? It would give ye a chance to say goodbye to the place, seein’ as ye left in such a hurry.”
Brigid sighed, torn between her wish to return home with her family and the equally pressing need to be here with her husband.
“I might be married,” she said quietly, “but I dinnae ken where my husband is. And he wouldnae wish me to travel without him—he doesnae think it safe. We’d already argued about that when I wanted to come to tell ye I was betrothed.”
“Och, I didnae like it at the time,” Megan said with a scowl. “But I’ll confess, yer husband was showin’ good sense on that matter. I wouldnae have wanted ye to travel those roads alone, Brigid. There might have been bandits.”
“Aye.” Valerie made a disgruntled expression. “Even the brutes who carried ye off were better than bravin’ the roads with nay protection at all. Yer husband’s right, Brigid. ‘Tis nae safe for a woman on her own.”
Brigid scowled, briefly looking just like Megan. “The three of ye came alone,” she pointed out. “So it cannae be that dangerous, can it?”
“The three of us are better trained in fightin’ than ye—and better than most men,” Valerie replied. “And three together is different than one alone, Brigid. Ye ken that. Besides…” Her hand shifted to toy with a crimson and black braided ribbon in her hair. “Some of Father’s crew agreed to watch over us on the road. They didnae want to come to the castle, but they stood guard for us, and they will do so again on the way back, so long as we dinnae linger longer than a fortnight. We’ll be perfectly safe, thanks to them.”
“Ye’ll nae be lingerin’ for another candlemark.”
The angry, snarling voice made the four of them turn around in shock.
Oliver stalked over to the table, guards on each side of him. The warriors spread out, surrounding all four of the women. Brigid’s skin prickled with unease as she and her elder sisters rose, for this was no way to treat the lady of the castle and her kin, surely?
“What’s the meanin’ of this, Oliver?” she demanded, sounding braver than she felt. “Why d’ye speak so rudely?”
“Where is my brother?” Oliver snapped, ignoring the question as if she hadn’t spoken. “What have ye done to him?”
Brigid frowned. “What have I done to him? What do ye mean? I havenae done anything to him, Oliver.”
She looked up at the man beseechingly, but the fury in his eyes made any further questions die on her lips.
“Aye? Is that so? Well, where is he, then?” he spat, his face white with anger. “He’s nae in his study. He’s nae in his chambers. Nay one has seen him since last night, after he left the wedding celebrations with ye.” Oliver’s eyes were blazing with rage, but the rest of his expression was as cold as ice. “Ye were the last one to see him. So, where is he?”
Brigid tried hard to slow her breathing, knowing she must remain calm in order to manage this situation, but beside her, she could feel Valerie stiffen with anger that someone should dare speak to her sister in this manner.
“I dinnae ken any more than ye do, Oliver,” she replied, shooting her sister a warning glance. “He was gone by the time I awoke this morning. He didnae wake me to tell me where he was goin’—I assumed he must have urgent clan business to attend to.”
She spoke calmly enough, but underneath her dress, her heart hammered as if it might break through her chest.
Where was Conall, then, if he was not off somewhere with his brother? And why hadn’t he told her?
“I dinnae believe ye.” Oliver shoved his left hand into his belt pouch and withdrew a vial, which he placed on the table before her. “I found this on the floor of my brother’s chambers when I went there to look for him this morn. Emily told me what these plants are. She told me what they’re used for.”
Brigid frowned down at the vial, not recognizing it at first. Then, her heart leaped into her throat as she realized it was the vial of monkshood Laird Auchter had given her the night before. She’d shoved it into the folds of her dress, not knowing what else to do with the wretched thing, and she supposed it must have fallen to the floor when Conall had so unceremoniously removed her clothes last night.
“That’s nothing,” she said quickly, her mouth suddenly dry. “I mean, I forgot I had it. I meant to dispose of it, but I?—”
“Ye meant to put it in my brother’s drink and then toss the vial in the midden.” Oliver’s jaw clenched.
“Nay. Never.” Brigid shook her head frantically, blood pounding in her ears. “I would never. I?—”
“Then why were ye carryin’ it around wit’ ye?” Oliver picked up the vial and held it up accusingly.
All around her, Brigid was aware that the hall had fallen silent, everyone’s eyes fixed on the spectacle of the Laird’s new wife being accused of conspiring to murder him.
This is bad. This is very, very bad.
Where are ye, Conall? Why dinnae ye come?
“Laird Auchter gave it to me when he interrupted the wedding feast,” Brigid began, the excuse sounding weak to her own ears. “I didnae intend to use it. I just forgot I had it, that’s all. Ye must believe me, Oliver,” she added, pleadingly. “Ye must ken I would never harm my husband.”
Oliver’s lip curled, disgust and anger transforming his face into a brutal mask that was far more terrifying to Brigid than his brother’s scarred countenance could ever be.
“I dinnae believe ye,” he said flatly.
“Are ye callin’ my sister a liar?” Megan started forward, but Lily caught her arm, her eyes flickering toward the gathered warriors at Oliver’s side.
“All I’m sayin’ is that ’tis nay accident that Laird Auchter chose to give yer sister to my brother as a price for the feud. And that until my brother is found and the truth is revealed, ye three are banished from this castle, back to yer home. And as for ye…” He spat the word at Brigid. “Ye’ll be confined to the dungeons until ye tell me where my brother is.”
“But I dinnae ken,” Brigid replied, struggling to hold back her tears. “He was absent when I awoke nae much more than a candlemark ago.” She bit her lip. “I ken ye hate Laird Auchter, but I swear to ye, I’m tellin’ the truth. I had nay intention of usin’ the contents of that vial.”
“I dinnae believe ye, and I’m nae prepared to listen to any more of yer excuses.”
Oliver’s hand moved as if he was about to strike her, but then he stepped back, visibly controlling himself as he gestured to the men with him.
“Tak’ her to the dungeons,” he said coldly. “And escort the rest of them to the border. Make sure they dinnae come back.”
Brigid wanted to protest, to fight this slur on her good name. But one glance at Oliver’s face was enough to tell her there was no point. Any words she had to say would fall on deaf ears. Her brother-in-law was too angry to listen to anything and far too suspicious of her to be reasoned with. She and her sisters were considered enemies, simply because of their maternal grandfather—curse the man.
“I understand,” she said bravely, gathering her courage in both hands. “And ye may do wit’ me as ye see fit. But at least give my sisters time to gather their belongings—that’s all I ask of ye.”
Oliver hesitated, his jaw set.
“One candlemark,” he said, at last. “Nae more.”
“Thank ye. I’ll go with ye without a fight. But I promise ye, I dinnae ken where yer brother is, and I didnae harm him.”
“Ye better pray ye’re tellin’ the truth.” Oliver glared at her, then stepped back.
Lily and Megan cried out as the warriors surrounded her. Valerie’s hand twitched at her side as if she were about to reach for a weapon, but Brigid knew her sister wasn’t stupid enough to start a fight when she was surrounded by armed men. Instead, the three of them were forced to simply stand there, their faces identical masks of horror and fear as their youngest sister was marched past them, her head held high and a brave smile wavering on her lips.
She would not let them see her cry. Or know that she was afraid. She knew if she did, they would fight to the death to try to save her, and she didn’t want any of her sisters to get hurt because of her.
As the men led her out of the Great Hall and down the narrow corridor to the dungeons, one thought filled her mind.
Och, Conall, where are ye? And what has happened that yer brother would suspect me of harmin’ ye?