Page 33 of Taken by the Ruthless Highlander (Taken by Highland Devils #6)

33

“W ill ye listen to yerself?” Felix scolded as Ryder paced the length of his study.

Ryder knew he’d have to face Morgana, eventually. After all, it wasn’t like he could give her the cold shoulder indefinitely. There would come a time when he’d have to face her well before she gave birth.

He swallowed hard. All these years, he had been careful, on his guard, and closed off… only to be knocked down by his wife’s wild, turbulent winds.

He let out a heavy sigh as he turned to the window. “Ye dinnae understand. Ye werenae there when I watched my maither pass in my arms after what he had done to her. I vowed I’d never… and now…” He hung his head as he rubbed the tension from the back of his neck.

The fact that he was bedazzled by Morgana didn’t bother him one bit. She was a beautiful woman, with eyes that sparkled like diamonds.

“Oh, I hear ye.” He watched through the glass pane as Felix folded his arms over his chest and shook his head. “But I dinnae think that ye’re fully understandin’ what goin’ on here.”

“She manipulated me,” Ryder growled, offended that his man-at-arms wouldn’t see how horrid the situation was.

“Nay, mate.” Felix dropped his arms and moved closer to him. “Ye fell in love with yer wife. That’s what happened—it just hasnae hit ye yet.”

“Nonsense,” Ryder scoffed, shrugging Felix’s hand off his shoulder. “I’m nae in love with Morgana. If I was?—”

“Ye’d be willin’ to give her the heavens and move mountains,” Felix cut him off. “That’s what ye did. Ye were so caught up in her that ye gave yerself away. It’s all right. It happens to the best of us.”

“Ye’re speakin’ as if ye ken about such things. And when was the last time ye gave yer heart away?” Ryder snapped and threw a frustrated hand up in the air. “See, ye spout things as if ye ken, but ye’re just as clueless as I am.”

“Tell me somethin’,” Felix drawled as he moved to the desk and plopped down on it as if he were the Laird.

Ryder’s eyes narrowed in warning, and his nostrils flared.

Felix kicked his feet up on the desk, unfazed. “Why did ye order me to send her away, when ye should be havin’ this conversation with her? Is it because ye think I will see yer side and validate yer insecurities? I ken how yer faither was, but ye’re nae him. Ye could never be him.”

“I ordered ye to send her away because I didnae want to see her.”

“Alright, and why nae? And be specific here, because right now, all ye’re givin’ me is excuses as to why ye’re nae lettin’ yerself be happy with her. Ye’re sabotagin’ yer happiness and lettin’ yer past hijack yer future. Ye cannae do that. Nae when there is so much ye’ll be missin’ out on. Think about it. Every time ye see her, ye light up, dinnae ye? And dinnae lie, everyone in the castle sees the change in ye. There’s a lightness about ye, now that she’s in yer life. Hate to break it to ye, lad, but ye love yer wife.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Ronnie sputtered as he barged into the study. The panic on his face sent a jolt through Ryder, as if he’d been struck by a battering ram. “But we have company?—”

“Where is Laird McKenzie?” a husky voice bellowed.

There was no denying the annoyance in the tone, which instantly put Ryder on edge. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he rolled his shoulders back, poised for a fight.

“I’ve got a few words to say to him.”

“Laird Dougal,” Ronnie announced.

Ryder noticed a petite shadow following close behind the brute that was Laird Dougal. His chest tightened as his mind skipped through every scenario he could think of.

If this was some sort of attack or siege on his castle, he was ready to defend it tooth and marrow.

“This is Laird?—”

“I ken who he is,” Laird Dougal huffed. He arched an eyebrow before glancing at the shadow at his back.

“Then what are ye doin’ here?” Ryder demanded.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Felix curl his fingers around the hilt of his sword.

“Gentlemen, please,” an unfamiliar female voice interjected. Ryder craned his neck to spy around Laird Dougal. “This isnae the time. Archer, please. This is my family, too. I’m Feya. I’ve come lookin’ for my sister. Please tell me she’s here.”

“Feya?” Ronnie gasped and darted to the girl without hesitation.

Ryder watched the lad throw his arms around his sister. The resemblance was uncanny, putting him at ease.

He glanced at Laird Dougal, wondering how he found Feya. The rumors swirling around him had reached even Ryder’s ears.

Growing up, he had heard of the haunted castle in the north, a place so dark that not even the sun dared to touch it. No wonder it would produce a man like Laird Dougal. He was burly, with broad shoulders and a full beard that made Ryder’s look small in comparison.

“What? How?” Ronnie sputtered as he looked his sister over. “I cannae believe it. We’ve been lookin’ for ye everywhere.”

“Where is Morgana?” Feya asked.

The panic in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Ryder. It rang in his ears like a warning bell.

“Please tell me my sister is still alive.”

“Aye, she’s alive and well,” Ronnie said.

“And why would she nae be?” Ryder growled.

Feya glanced at Laird Dougal as if expecting him to draw his blade. Ryder’s body tensed at the thought of clashing swords in his study.

“I’m nae sayin’ ye’re the fiend here,” Feya said, stepping between him and Laird Dougal as if to defuse the tension. “I’m merely statin’ that ye have snakes here. Poisonous vipers that have been stalkin’ me for months. It was only by the mercy of Laird Dougal that I slipped by unharmed. Now, please, where’s Morgana?”

“Felix,” Ryder grunted. “Go fetch her. I’m sure my wife will be thrilled to see that her sister is safe and sound.”

“Right away,” Felix said. “But are ye sure ye want to send me ?”

“Aye,” Ryder insisted. “Go find my wife and bring her here.”

With a sharp nod of his head, Felix darted out of the study.

The second his man-at-arms left, Ryder noticed a significant shift in Laird Dougal. It was as if all the tension drained from the room.

“I ken ye have questions for me,” Feya began as Ronnie helped her to a chair.

“Aye.” Ryder cast a glance at Laird Dougal.

What brought the man to his lands? Why was he escorting Feya? And why did it look like there was something between the two of them?

From what Ryder had been told, Laird Dougal was a vicious and cunning man. If it came down to a battle of wits, he doubted he would come out on top.

“Where did ye want me to start?” Feya asked, just as Ronnie handed her a dram of whiskey. “Thank ye, love.”

“Let’s start with where ye’ve been,” Ryder said.

He ran his fingers through his beard, refusing to take his eyes off Laird Dougal.

“I’ve been under the care of Laird Dougal,” Feya began, her eyes flicking to the man in question. “But it’s the reason why I was brought under his care that should concern ye, Laird McKenzie. I watched Cohen Hughes slay yer faither.”

“Come again?” Ryder said, his voice firm.

The last thing he needed was to show any emotion or weakness before Laird Dougal. He had to appear strong despite the turbulent waters threatening to pull him under.

“It was Cohen on that balcony with the late Laird McKenzie. And it was his blade that slit yer faither’s throat. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he spotted me, and I’ve been on the run ever since.”

“And Laird Dougal?” Ryder asked, giving the beast of a man a pointed look. “What is his role in all of this?”

Feya pulled in a deep breath. “It’s complicated. But I’ll say this—Laird Dougal isnae an enemy of Clan McKenzie. Ye’re family now, and family sticks together.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Ronnie piped up, raising his glass and downing its contents in one gulp before anyone could protest.

Ryder smirked at his antics. After all, it was a means to celebrate Feya’s return.

“My Laird,” Felix panted as he burst into the room. The urgency in his eyes instantly put Ryder on edge.

Ryder didn’t have to hear what his man-at-arms had to say; he already knew.

“She’s nae here,” he bit out.

“Aye. The servants say they saw her in the stables with Cohen nae more than half an hour ago,” Felix said.

Terror ripped through Ryder. “Direction!” he growled. “Give me a direction!”

His voice thundered through the room and rattled every pane of glass as if he controlled the fires from hell.

He had known Cohen wasn’t to be trusted. It was the reason he had picked Felix as his man-at-arms. There was no loyalty between them—never had been.

“South,” Felix answered.

Ryder bolted out of the room.

“I’m comin’ with ye!” Ronnie shouted, hurrying after him.

“I dinnae care who comes, but I’m goin’ to get Morgana,” Ryder declared with such conviction that it shattered the illusion he had been living under.

He was in love with his wife. The very thought of a hair of her head being out of place terrified him. To him, she wasn’t accused of anything less than stealing his heart.

“And where exactly are ye goin’? There are plenty of cottages and shacks. We dinnae have time to search each one of them. We’ve got to be smart about this,” Felix called after him.

Ryder skidded to a halt and spun around, his fury flaring as he glanced over the man’s shoulder and spotted a figure coming down the corridor.

“Nathan!” he barked.

Nathan paused and lifted a hand over his brow.

Ryder jerked his chin toward him, and Felix marched down the hallway to collect him.

“What is the meanin’ of this? Are ye goin’ to throw me in the dungeons again? I’ll be out by midnight,” Nathan huffed defiantly as Felix dragged him over to Ryder.

“Ye’ve always been like a pup, sniffin’ the arse of the man,” Ryder said, keeping his voice calm. As much as he wanted a response, he needed the man’s cooperation. “Tell me, where is Cohen?”

“Why would I ken where he’s at?” Nathan asked.

Ryder glanced over his shoulder at Feya. Wagging a finger at the lass, he kept a keen eye on Nathan’s expression as she stepped into view.

“I’ll ask ye again, where’s Cohen?” he asked.

This time, he couldn’t keep the ire from his voice. They were wasting time.

“I dinnae ken. Go ask his wife,” Nathan scoffed, eying Feya curiously.

“I’m nae askin’ his wife. I’m askin’ ye. Do ye ken who this lass is?” Ryder asked, pointing at her. “I see the recognition in yer eyes. Dinnae try to deny it. Anyone in this room can read ye like a book.”

“She looks familiar, nothin’ more,” Nathan answered, shooting him a steely glare.

“That’s Morgana’s sister. And I must say, she’s got a very interesting story to tell. Do ye like stories, Nathan? Because I think ye’re goin’ to like to hear this one.”

Ryder suddenly grabbed him by the collar and slammed him into the wall. All he could see was red. He wanted to break Nathan’s face.

“Get off! Have ye finally gone mad? Is that what this is all about?” Nathan growled, struggling against him.

“Does he look familiar, lass?” Ryder asked over his shoulder.

“Nay,” Feya answered with a shake of her head. “Never seen him before. But there were others.”

“What madness are ye tryin’ to pin on me? It willnae work,” Nathan snapped.

Ryder flashed him a warning look, but Nathan only responded with an arched eyebrow and a scowl.

“Cohen killed the former Laird,” Feya said. “I saw him with my own eyes. Cohen has been obsessed with my sister for some time. And now, if ye dinnae tell us where to find Cohen, he’ll kill her too. I’m beggin’ ye, tell us everythin’ ye ken.”

“Morgana didnae kill the previous Laird?” Nathan asked, going still. “Are ye sure it was Cohen?”

“Cohen’s men have been after Feya. Ye want to contest her word, ye’ll have to go up against me,” Laird Dougal grunted, stepping up beside Feya.

“There’s a cottage south of here, nae far. Two miles as the crow flies. Cohen often goes there with the wife to get away from the castle,” Nathan answered. “I could show ye if ye want.”

“Aye, ye’ll do that,” Ryder said, trying to keep the anger from his voice. “And if I find out ye’re lyin’, I swear I’ll gut ye where ye stand.”