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Page 30 of Taken by the Ruthless Highlander (Taken by Highland Devils #6)

30

“R yder.”

His name lingered in the air between them.

Ryder’s gaze flicked from Orella’s unconscious form to Morgana’s shocked expression, before it fell on Cohen. Anger simmered under his skin as he arched an eyebrow, daring the man to talk himself out of this mess.

“Laird McKenzie,” Cohen greeted, straining under the weight of his unconscious wife. “I would have greeted ye properly if my hands werenae so full. But as ye can see, my wife has outdone herself this evenin’. I think she hit the bottle a bit too hard, and it’s time for me to take her home.”

“Aye, ye do that,” Ryder growled, fixing him with a glare.

Morgana stepped into his line of sight, and the dark hatred in his eyes disappeared instantly.

“What are ye doin’?”

“Distractin’ ye from whatever is goin’ through that head of yers,” she answered in a hushed tone so that not even Cohen could hear her. “I have a feeling that it might ruin my night. And I really hope that willnae happen, because I worked so hard to organize the cèilidh.”

Ryder huffed a breath. Cohen’s smirk reminded him of a child who had just gotten away with breaking the rules. It took every ounce of his self-control not to start a fight right then and there. The last thing he wanted was to ruin Morgana’s special night.

“Have ye seen the seen the pettin’ pen I had set up for the wee ones?” Morgana asked, trying to draw his attention away from Cohen. But the only way Ryder was ever going to forget about that man was if he were sent to the Americas or if he were six feet under. “Ye might like it. I managed to have the cook’s nephew catch the wild bunnies that have been poppin’ up in the garden. What do ye say we have a look see?”

“Aye,” Ryder hissed.

“I’m terribly sorry for all of this, truly. I swear, I dinnae ken what I’m goin’ to do with Orella,” Cohen said to Morgana.

Ryder’s nostrils flared as he fought the urge to punch him for speaking to his wife. The man was leaving, there was no doubt about that. But the question was, when. And to Ryder’s mind, Cohen had overstayed his welcome.

“Ye’re goin’ to take her home and tend to her. Unless ye are a fiend. What husband doesnae tend to his ailin’ wife? Ye care for her and nurse her back to health, and if she doesnae show up tomorrow, I’ll suspect foul play and come for ye,” Ryder warned.

Morgana pressed her hands against his chest, trying to get him to step back from Cohen. “I thought we were goin’ to see the pettin’ pen,” she pressed.

“Aye, I think ye should do as yer wife says,” Cohen drawled.

“Ye have a fine evenin’,” Ryder said through gritted teeth. “See that ye dinnae come back.”

“Ryder,” Morgana hissed.

He didn’t care. What irked him more than anything was how Cohen had weaseled his way into Morgana’s good graces and there wasn’t anything he could say or do to make her think less of the man.

“Dinnae start,” he warned. “Ye asked me nae to ruin yer evening, so I will just go back to the castle.”

“Ye’ll do nay such thing,” Morgana protested, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I think I wanted this night to be somethin’ it never will be. Everyone is in a mood—even the twins.”

“I havenae seen Poppy or Eloise,” Ryder said, craning his neck to scan the crowd.

“That’s nae the point,” Morgana insisted.

“I ken what ye’re tryin’ to say.” Ryder took a step closer and placed a hand on her bare shoulder as if to anchor her to the spot. His thumb instinctively stroked her soft skin. “The party was for ye to relax. Ye’ve been so worked up over everythin’ and yer sister’s disappearance. I just wanted ye to be able to take yer mind off those things for a minute. Tonight was never supposed to be about me.”

Morgana shook her head as she tucked her hair behind her ear. She wiped a stray tear from her eye as Ryder glanced over her head to the stalls lining the path. It was as if she had brought the whole village to the castle.

“The torches burn for ye tonight,” Ryder murmured.

He leaned down and plucked a wildflower from the grass, before tucking it behind her ear. He stared deeply into her eyes. He could see a flicker of desire in them, shifting and sparking.

Just as he leaned in to press his lips to hers, something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He pulled back and tilted his head, trying to make out what he was looking at.

The sounds coming from the crowd made him think some farmer’s pig had escaped. And sure enough, the children squealed as the mud-covered pig scrambled to get away from them.

“What in the…? Poppy?” Morgana gasped.

She watched her younger sister hold on to the pig for dear life as the creature squealed and tried to buck her off.

Morgana had never seen anything so funny in her whole life.

“Let go of the pig.”

“Nay. If I hold on, I’ll get a prize,” Poppy yelled as the pig darted around Morgana and Ryder.

“Is the pig greased?” Ryder asked, his heart rate quickening with excitement.

How long had it been since he had played that very game?

“Aye, and I’m goin’ to just as soon as I get the prize. I dinnae go through all that trouble for nothin’,” Poppy grunted, right before she slipped from the pig’s back and tumbled into the grass.

But just as quickly, another child lunged for the creature.

“That poor thing.” Morgana tutted. “And nay, I’m nae talkin’ about the children choosin’ to chase after it.”

“What’s wrong with a bit of fun?” Ryder asked as he walked over to Poppy and helped her to her feet. He gave her a quick once-over before nudging her toward Morgana. “See? She’s fine. Nothin’ is broken or damaged.”

“And I take it ye think that is a success?” Morgana asked, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “As long as they come back alive, it’s a good day.”

“Aye, and why nae? We’re nae promised tomorrow, are we? Nay, we’re nae. So why nae enjoy what little bit ye can when ye can? Life sweeps by far too quickly, and before ye ken it, ye cannae get on that horse ye loved so much. Or see the field ye made love to yer woman in.”

Morgana’s smirk stretched into a smile. “I think that might be the most profound thing ye’ve ever said to me.”

“Aye, well, dinnae expect that to happen so often,” Ryder muttered.

He ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at Poppy, hoping the child would have something to add. But she only stared at him with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

For a moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if the poor child had hit her head a bit harder than he had initially thought. The girl just stared at him without uttering a single word, as if he had come down from heaven.

“Are ye well? Maybe we should get ye to the healer.”

“Ye saw Orella,” Morgana interjected. “She is in nay condition to help.”

“Then perhaps we should just call it a night,” Ryder said.

Without warning, he scooped Poppy into his arms and hoisted her onto his shoulders. She squealed as she wiggled, trying to find her perch atop him.

“Ye all right up there? If ye’re goin’ to throw up or somethin’, ye need to tell me so I can put ye down, understand?”

“If we’re retirin’, we should find Eloise first,” Morgana said.

“There!” Poppy cried.

Ryder turned in the direction her body moved to find Eloise skipping toward them with a huge grin on her face, as if she had just won the whole world.

“Now, what happened with ye, Eloise?” Morgana asked.

Her sister had stopped before Ryder, shocked to see Poppy sitting on his broad shoulders.

“I won,” Eloise announced, letting a pendant fall from her hand. The stone shimmered in the dimming sunlight. “Is it nae lovely? They say it’s a diamond, but I think it’s just a crystal.”

“If ye had paid me any heed these past few days, ye would have recognized all the prizes bein’ handed out tonight,” Morgana said.

Ryder’s chest tightened. He turned and looked at her for a moment. “Are ye bribin’ the clan to like us?” he asked, feeling a bit put off by the whole thing.

Morgana shrugged. “Nay,” she answered quickly. “These are just little trinkets for prizes. Ye cannae buy loyalty, and we need more of that than anything else.”

“Morgana, Ryder.”

Ryder turned quickly at Ronnie’s voice, his mind already racing through different scenarios. Bracing himself for the news, he held his breath.

“Ronnie,” Morgana greeted. “Are ye all right?”

Ronnie nodded to Ryder in acknowledgment before turning to her. “Aye,” he answered. “I just wanted to say that ye did a wonderful job organizin’ this cèilidh.”

“Thank ye…” Morgana trailed off, glancing at Ryder questioningly.

But Ryder was just as confused as she was.

Ronnie kicked at the pebbles under his foot. “And I wanted to say that I might be gone in the mornin’, so if I dinnae see ye, I love ye,” he said, embarrassment and pride lacing his words.

Before Ryder could ask him what was going on, he took off for the castle.

Befuddled, Ryder turned his gaze to Morgana. She flashed him a bashful smile as she hoisted Eloise up into her arms. “What was that all about?”

“I told him he could leave with the others tomorrow,” she explained. “I think he’s just a bit overeager to go on such an important mission, ye ken?”

Ryder’s mouth went dry, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He wondered if he should tell her about the delay of their trip. After all, they were still going to go… if he deemed it necessary.

The problem was that he wasn’t sure. Did he dare tell his wife that he had acted on her suspicions?

“The boys and Felix would have left earlier had I nae delayed them,” he confessed, the words tumbling past his lips.

“Ye delayed them? Why?” Morgana asked as they walked through the empty foyer, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

“For ye,” Ryder answered in a hushed tone, yet the sound echoed up the stairwell as they made their way to Eloise and Poppy’s room. “I ken how much ye wanted to have everyone there tonight. I’m sorry ye didnae get to spend much time with any of them.”

“I’m still tryin’ to figure out what happened with Orella. She was fine one minute and out cold the next. I’ve never seen anyone be affected by drink like that,” Morgana said.

Ryder pressed his lips into a tight line. Should he tell her that he suspected Cohen poisoned his own wife? Would that wake her up to the sort of man she called a friend?

But as much as he wanted her to see the truth, any attempt would only push her further away.

“Cannae say,” he murmured.

“Somethin’ wasnae right about any of it. She wasnae slurrin’ her words like some of the others. She was on her feet one minute and in Cohen’s arms the next. It was serendipitous for him to be there right when we needed him.”

“Are ye sure it wasnae odd? Or maybe suspicious?” Ryder asked.

But all it earned him was a stern look from Morgana.

She glared at him as she reached for the twins’ door and stepped into the dark room. Eloise and Poppy snuggled under their blankets and were out the second their heads hit their pillows.

“I think they enjoyed the cèilidh,” Morgana whispered. “Wait till they see what’s in store for tomorrow. I’ve got the archery contests and the axe throwin’. We’ve got the log toss and…” She paused, pressing her lips together.

“Go on,” Ryder prompted, nudging her shoulder. “Ye’ve already done so much tonight. The fact that ye’ve got three more days of revelry is outrageous. Are ye sure ye dinnae want to rein it in a bit? Ye ken as well as I do how fast I can clear a room.”

“Yer help willnae be needed,” Morgana snorted as she struck a match and lit a candle for the girls.

She and Ryder quietly made for the doorway and paused there for a moment. How peaceful her sisters looked in their beds.

Ryder wondered how long it had been since her siblings had felt safe. Was it years? Decades?

The thought disturbed him.

“Thank ye for this,” Morgana murmured as she closed the door. “Ye have nay idea how long it’s been since I’ve seen them this happy.”

Morgana threw her arms around his neck. She purposefully pressed her body against his, he was sure of it, because the spark in her eyes was fierce and taunting.

“And did ye like it?”

“Did ye need to invite Cohen?”

“I was hopin’ the two of ye would at least find some common ground. The man is too stubborn to leave this place, and ye’re too admirable to send him away due to his years of service,” Morgana sighed.

“And here I thought he was one of yer best friends.”

Morgana leaned in to kiss him, only for him to pull back. She rolled her eyes as she rose onto the tips of her toes.

“Is this really what ye want to talk about right now? Cohen and Orella?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Ryder’s annoyance was quickly replaced by a different kind of heat. “Is there somethin’ else ye’d rather talk about?” he purred.

“Maybe nae so much talk as touch,” she breathed, before leaning up and crushing her lips to his.

Ryder couldn’t resist the urge any longer. He wrapped his arms around her and scooped her up.

“What are ye doin’?” Morgana gasped as he made a beeline for his chambers.

“Exactly what ye said we should be doin’,” Ryder answered. “Only, I was thinkin’ we should do it naked.”