Page 14 of Taken by the Ruthless Highlander (Taken by Highland Devils #6)

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“A lright, out with it,” Orella said as soon as they had stepped out into the sunshine.

The fresh air cleared the cobwebs and fog from Morgana’s mind. She inhaled deeply as if she’d been drowning.

“What are ye talkin’ about?” she muttered as she closed her eyes and tilted her head to the azure blue sky.

How she loved the warmth on her skin. For a moment, it reminded her of the warmth of Ryder’s hand on her face.

“Ye and Ryder,” Orella clarified. “Is he treatin’ ye well? It seems ever since the weddin’, he’s been away from the castle. People are talkin’ about how he’s got a mistress in the next town over.”

“I cannae say anythin’ about that,” Morgana answered, shocked by the accusations that everyone seemed to toss about as if it were a game. “Ryder doesnae seem like the sort of man who would break his marriage vows.”

“So, ye and him have…” Orella trailed off, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Are we to expect a wee one runnin’ around here soon?”

“ That I’m afraid ye’re goin’ to have to wait for a bit longer,” Morgana said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her tone.

Flashing Orella a smile, she tried to figure out why she was disappointed, to begin with. It wasn’t like she wanted any children, not with as many siblings as she had.

But maybe the disappointment came from the fact that Ryder did want to have children. It was this realization that niggled at her. Underneath it all, she wanted to be a mother and run her home well. And the fact that the choice had been stripped from her stung all the same.

“I ken ye’d never cave to him. Ryder is nothin’ but a bully, and if ye wait for a few more weeks, ye can ask for an annulment,” Orella suggested.

“But I have,” Morgana lied. “Or have ye nae heard the rumors yet?”

“What rumors?” Orella frowned as she picked her herbs.

“Let’s see… have ye heard that I ran bare-chested through the castle?” Morgana asked.

She knew that discussing her most embarrassing moment was the only way to change the subject.

“I did hear that one this mornin’,” Orella admitted, her cheeks flushing a deep red. “I think I’d be too embarrassed to come out of my room if I’d been caught doin’ that.”

“The fact that ye think it’s true is concernin’,” Morgana snorted.

She bent down and picked more herbs, trying to focus on the task at hand, but her mind drifted to Ryder once again. What was he doing now? Was he perched somewhere out of sight, watching them from a window?

The thought tickled her.

She glanced up at the empty windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. But just as she suspected, he wasn’t there. If he had left the castle once again, she wouldn’t have known.

How it bothered her to be left in the dark. She wanted to know what Felix knew and if there was any news about Feya. She wanted to feel safe and secure, but the only place she could find that was in Ryder’s embrace.

Once more, she glanced up at the windows. Every little movement sent a thrill through her as hope sprang up and died in a matter of seconds.

“What should I tell him, then?” Orella asked.

The question snapped Morgana out of her thoughts. She blinked, trying to remember what they were talking about. She studied Orella, hoping to find the answer in her expression to no avail.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed.

“Ye werenae listenin’, were ye?” Orella chuckled as she playfully jabbed her elbow into Morgana’s side. “Cohen thinks Ryder isnae bein’ very kind to ye and wants to make sure ye’re doin’ well. So, are ye doin’ well? What should I tell my husband?”

“I dinnae understand why he doesnae come to me with such worries,” Morgana said.

Orella shook her head. “The Laird has made it clear that Cohen cannae speak to ye directly. Cohen thinks that his jealousy is rearin’ its ugly head. It’s why he has sent me to check on ye.”

Morgana’s heart swelled at the overwhelming love and support. She pulled Orella into a tight embrace.

“I owe ye and yer husband so much, as it is,” she murmured as she finally released her. “Ye believed me when nay one else did. Ye cannae imagine the stress of being under scrutiny all the time. Yet, ye helped me. If it werenae for the both of ye doin’ all ye have done, I dinnae ken where I’d be.”

Orella’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She took Morgan’s hands in her own and gave them a tight squeeze. “Ye’re too kind.”

But there was a sadness in her tone that Morgana couldn’t ignore.

“Alright, what’s really goin’ on here? Ye seem troubled,” she noted as they continued collecting herbs.

“It’s nothin’, really,” Orella answered, much to her irritation.

Morgana hated it when people lied about the way they felt, when it was clear from their expressions what was going on.

“Dinnae do that,” she scolded. “It’s clear as day that something’s botherin’ ye, so out with it.”

“Morgana, I’m worried about ye. Cohen is worried about ye too.”

“There’s nay reason to be worried—everythin’ is as well as it can be,” Morgana reassured.

Her heart skipped a bit when she spotted a shadow lingering in the window. She didn’t want to believe that Ryder was there; it was easier to ignore his smoldering glare than to face it.

“People think that ye’re goin’ to kill the Laird just like ye did the last one,” Orella blurted out.

The confession didn’t surprise Morgana one bit. The clan had been suspicious about her before she married the late Laird McKenzie, so to think that they’d put such things aside now would be ridiculous.

“Dinnae ye think that if I was goin’ to do it, I would have done it already?” Morgana challenged, her irritation simmering beneath her skin.

“Ye ken it’s nae me sayin’ these things. At least ten councilmen are already placin’ bets on how long Ryder has left to live,” Orella revealed, keeping her voice low.

“Ye cannae be serious,” Morgana gasped, stunned.

How anyone could bet on her relationship—or any relationship, for that matter—bothered her.

“Oh, that I am. In fact, Cohen has staked a few coins. That’s how serious this is.”

“What do ye want me to do about it? I have nay intentions of killin’ anyone, let alone my husband.”

“I ken that,” Orella said as she placed a hand on Morgana’s shoulder. “Ye ken I’ve only ever been on yer side. Ye say ye’re innocent, I believe ye. Cohen does, too. Which is why he’s bettin’ on ye to come up ahead. And let me tell ye, when the truth does come to light, we’ll be sittin’ pretty for certain. I might even be able to get that material I’ve been eyein’.”

“Thank ye. Ye dinnae ken how good it feels to ken that I have at least one friend in the castle. Sometimes this place seems so small,” Morgana muttered.

Suddenly, her gaze landed on Ryder. Her heart skipped a beat, and her breath hitched. His eyes bored into her. The distance did not matter, for she could feel his intentions. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his lips trailing down her neck.

“Aye, it can be hard to settle, but ye’re doin’ great, truly. I dinnae think anyone else would have stuck it out the way ye have. Some would have fled a long time ago.”

“It was an option in the beginning,” Morgana admitted.

“And ye didnae choose it? What is wrong with ye?” Orella sputtered.

“The Laird gave me three options. I could leave and be banished, never to see my siblings again. I could stay as the late Laird McKenzie’s widow, never to marry, but always have a target on my back…”

“Or ye could marry him,” Orella chimed in. “Well, I suppose ye picked the option ye could live with.”

Morgana nodded as she stared at Ryder. “It was the only option that guaranteed my safety. But even now, I’m startin’ to wonder just how far Ryder’s protection extends. If ye say that clansfolk are startin’ to whisper, then it means they’re startin’ to plot.”

“Cohen says that the only way to get the people to agree is to find the real killer,” Orella said.

“Ryder is handlin’ that,” Morgana stated with such confidence that it left little room for doubt.

“That’s all fine and dandy, but dinnae ye think he has other things to worry about, what with bein’ Laird and all? The man isnae exactly the council’s favorite. The only reason he’s the Laird is because he is the only survivin’ son.”

“What are ye sayin’? Does my husband have a target on his back?” Morgana asked, cutting right to the wick of things.

She held her breath as she looked away from Ryder and studied Orella’s face for some clues. But the only thing she could see was the deep lines of concern and worry on the woman’s face.

“Ye both do,” Orella answered. “Until ye have an heir, the council will keep lookin’ for a way to get rid of ye. And the warnin’ goes for yer husband, too. The council isnae happy with the way he has been runnin’ things. In fact, over half of them dinnae even recognize him as the Laird.”

“Then who are they followin’?” Morgana asked.

“Nay one. They’re split. Right now, that works in yer favor. But there will come a time when they’ll band together. They always find common ground; it’s what makes Clan McKenzie strong. So, ye need to find the killer or produce an heir before that happens.”

Morgana nodded her head, her chest tightening with concern. She pulled in a long, deep breath to steady her nerves.

Surely Orella’s news would be something Ryder would want to hear. But how to broach the topic was beyond her skills. There was no doubt Ryder wouldn’t be pleased with the news. And the likelihood of him already knowing made it almost not worth bringing up.

“I’ll talk to Ryder about this the next time we have dinner together,” Morgana said, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Are ye sure ye want to do that? The Laird has never taken bad news well. I doubt he’ll want to hear that he’s got a target on his back.”

“Somethin’ tells me that this sort of news is exactly what he wants to hear,” Morgana trailed off as her eyes flicked back to the window in Ryder’s study.

The place he had just occupied was now dark and empty. Morgana felt a pang in her chest. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought it was the sting of rejection.

She turned her gaze back to her friend. “Somethin’ tells me that he already kens about that.”

“Wouldnae surprise me,” Orella murmured. “He kens everythin’ that goes on within these walls. Still, even the Laird needs loyal people in his life. If he doesnae ken that his life is in danger, then someone ought to tell him. I’m just glad it’s ye rather than me.”