Page 7 of Surrender to the Highlander (The MacLerie Clan #2)

The Earl’s Hall Kirkvaw

T horfinn strode from the latest audience with his father and sought out his own chambers. The anger built inside until he was ready to destroy something…or someone. Slamming the doors behind him, he ordered the servants out and then did as he felt—the nearest table his target.

But, even knocking it over and spilling everything on it all over the floor did not relieve his frustration, so the lantern was next and then the pitcher of ale and the cups with it. Bashing them against the wall, spilling ale from one end of the chamber to the other simply increased his rage. He screamed out his anger.

The servant who entered the rooms then must have realized his mistake for he tried to leave. Thorfinn stepped in front of him and grabbed him by the tunic. Throwing him to the floor, he kicked him and ordered him to clean the mess. The damn fool deserved far more punishment, for he should know not to look at him in disrespect.

He, Thorfinn, was the legitimate son of Erengisl Sunesson and he should be inheriting everything. He should stand in his father’s stead. He should be second to his father, representing him here or wherever needed. Instead, the bastard son had been called back to steal part of his inheritance and to steal the standing he should have as the only son, the only son that mattered.

Thorfinn tugged his cloak from his shoulders and tossed it on the floor. When the impudent servant stared at him once more, it took only a few swiftly delivered blows before the man learned his place—on the floor, at Thorfinn’s feet. Only the knock at the door spared him further attention. Pushing the servant aside, Thorfinn walked to the door and opened it himself. His man asked leave to enter.

“You are long overdue,” Finn said, taking a deep breath. The rage was spent now—using his fists always relieved it—and he wanted to hear the news in private. “Get rid of him and get me wine.”

As Sigurd summoned servants to fulfill his wishes, Thorfinn went over to the window and watched the ships in the busy harbor. His chambers overlooked the water and he could see merchant vessels and smaller sailing skiffs dot the surface of the waters. When the noises behind him subsided, he turned and held out his hand for the cup he’d ordered. Sigurd did not disappoint him in that, and Thorfinn hoped he would not in the task given him, either. For his own sake as well as Thorfinn’s plans.

The table was righted and the papers and books replaced on its surface. The disciplined servant was gone as well, but the blood on the floor and the ale on the wall would need to be scrubbed later. Thorfinn sat in a chair and waited on Sigurd’s report. A little punishment to one and all of his underlings behaved better, or so it seemed to him when Sigurd launched into a succinct and thorough account.

The bastard Rurik was on his way to Kirkvaw after several delays in receiving his father’s call. Thorfinn smiled at the thought of those delays and how angry his father was over them. The bastard did indeed escort Gunnar’s daughter back now and the slut was forlorn over “Finn’s” sudden departure.

The best part, the part that made his heart pound in anticipation of the success of his plans, was that there were many signs that his debauching of her was successful. Sigurd’s man had spoken directly to a woman at the convent who had, with a bit of strong-armed convincing, revealed the slut’s condition.

Nothing would neutralize Gunnar more than the dishonor of his daughter. So many arrangements would be undone over it, so much respect lost by it, that Thorfinn knew it had been the right thing to do. And, although Gunnar would know he was behind it all, there was nothing the Erengisl’s first counselor could do to expose him or his hand in it all.

And Gunnar deserved all the humiliation he got, for it was his persuasion that convinced his father to call the bastard home. It was Gunnar who suggested that Rurik was a good man to leave in charge and who could rule in his father’s name. It was Gunnar who stole his birthright and his father’s esteem from him and Gunnar would be made to pay.

Thorfinn clenched the cup so tightly in his hand that it left an imprint on his palm. He tried to calm the shaking as he drank deeply of the wine. His thoughts were filled with images of the lovely, but stupid Margriet.

Gunnar’s daughter had walked right into “Finn’s” arms, accepting his advances and talk of love and a future. Stupid slut that she was, she would be the instrument of her father’s downfall. Even better and more satisfying, he would bring the bastard down as well and have done with all of them.

Now, all he had to do was wait for their arrival, planting seeds of distrust before they arrived and preparing for his own acceptance of his father’s recognition.

Thorfinn drank the last of the wine and waved Sigurd off with orders to continue as they’d planned. When his gaze settled on the stained floor and wall, he realized these were just portents of things to come.

Blood would be spilled and bigger messes than this one would need to be put aright before he was done with Gunnar, his slut of a daughter and the bastard he’d chosen to support.

They deserved anything they got for being in his way.