Page 28 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Hellion (Auctioned Highland Brides #4)

Callum kicked open the door of his study. He would have ripped it from its hinges if it hadn’t been as thick as it was.

Cursing loudly, he stormed through the room, kicking whatever was in his path, hurling the chair at the door, and listening to the satisfying splintering sound as it broke apart.

He walked across the room, throwing his papers and documents from the desk. They scattered across the floor, blanketing the area around his feet.

Am I truly to lose everythin’ in one day?

It should not have hurt so much that Lydia was planning to leave him. Her words should have been exactly what he wanted to hear—they were partners in name only. If she left, now that the girls were gone, it should have no impact on him.

But seeing her so upset, hearing her telling him she had to do what was best for the girls only compounded the very reason he had brought her here.

She began as a convenient mother for those children, but what is she to me now? What has she always been?

Running his fingers through his hair, Callum left the room, slamming the door behind him and marching to Angus’s study.

The servants who had gathered outside the room to listen to the chaos he created scattered like minnows as he marched past them.

He strode along the corridor of the castle toward a familiar door he had not walked through since the first day he arrived.

Angus’s study was in much the same state as it had been. The room was dark, musty, and stale. Dust swirled about his feet as he entered.

The fire had not been lit in some time, and papers and scrolls were lying across every surface. How many hours had he spent in this room in his lifetime? Hundreds, maybe thousands—strategizing with his brother, discussing what was required for their people.

And if ye hadnae loved that harpy, maybe ye would still be here and we wouldnae be in this position.

Callum walked to the mantelpiece and ran a hand along the surface, throwing the oddments to the floor. The clock that had sat there for decades fell onto the flagstones with a loud clanging sound, cogs and gears flying everywhere.

Looking at the desks, at the years he had spent sitting in front of it, leaning over it, trading strategies with his brother, his fury exploded.

Crouching onto his haunches, he gripped the thick wood in his hands, his fingers curling around the edge of the wood, nails digging into the grooves.

The heavy mahogany was good quality and had been built with strong wood, but it was no match for his rage.

With a mighty roar, Callum lifted the desk, his muscles straining as he turned it upside down.

Drawers and inkwells shattered as it rolled against the window. If he had been able to throw the thing through the glass, he would have done so.

Breathing heavily, he cast his eye over the mess, staring angrily around at the papers all over the floor until an envelope caught his eye.

It was square and nondescript, without any impressive markings or seals, but Callum would know the hand of the man who had written it even if he had traced the letters in the dark.

Bending to the floor, he scooped it up, walking to the window and throwing aside the heavy drapes as light flooded in.

Righting his brother’s chair and pulling it back to an upright position, he sat down.

Callum.

It was the only word written on the front of the envelope, and it was in Angus’s handwriting.

He pulled his dagger from its sheath and sliced open the seal, nerves jangling in his gut as he opened the single sheet of paper. Angus’s spiked hand filled the page as Callum held his breath.

Callum

I don’t know what the last four years could have been like for you. I banished you, hurt you, without any just cause, and for that I will always be sorry.

I believed my wife. I think a man must trust and honor his wife above all else, or he is lost.

But I never knew her true nature until the end.

She is a wicked woman. I know that now. I found letters, love letters to you, telling the truth of what she had done.

I confronted her—accused her—and to save her own skin, she abandoned her children and left for her father’s.

She did not even bid farewell to her own daughters.

A mother abandoning her only kin like that chilled my blood.

What I did to you may be beyond forgiveness, but I beg for it now.

I am asking for your help in raising my wee girls. I am asking you to come back, brother, and for us to be together again, as we were in life before Moira’s cruelty destroyed my faith in you.

The girls are wonderful children and have brought much light to my life. I know their lives would have been improved if they could have known their uncle as they grew. Amy is quiet, reserved, but brave like you. Eilis is stubborn and headstrong.

I want you to meet them, to love them as I do. I have robbed you of the first five years of their life, but I hope you can know them for the rest.

You are the only man I trust with their care. I just hope to see you soon and that you can forgive ? —

The letter broke off, the final few lines unwritten, and Callum held it against his chest, knowing that his brother must have passed before he was able to finish it.

Had Angus truly intended for us to reconcile?

After all the pain that had festered inside him for so long, it was strange to feel remorse for a conversation they had never been able to have.

Rising from his chair, he walked across the room to grab the whiskey bottle. Pouring himself a healthy dram, he went to stand before the window, staring out at the gardens.

He sipped the drink, the sharp taste of it passing down his throat. At the familiar burn, he frowned, holding the glass before him and staring at it in confusion.

How long has it been since I reached for a bottle?

He couldn’t remember when he had last had a drink. In the four years he had been in exile, he must have gone through half a bottle every night. But now, it hadn’t occurred to him for days. Not since Lydia arrived.

The girls and his wife were enough for him.

Placing the glass down, he turned around and lowered himself into the chair. Looking at the letter in his hand, he felt a sense of desperate sadness that he hadn’t been able to hear the words written on the page from his brother’s own lips.

“Wherever ye are, Angus, I hope ye are at peace.”

There was a knock at the door, and Callum jumped to his feet, embarrassed by the chaos all around him and trying to distance himself from it as best he could.

What will Lydia think of me when she walks in here and finds me amongst all this like a petulant child having a tantrum?

But when the door opened, all his hopes were dashed. It was not Lydia on the other side, but Kristen.

She stepped into the room, looking about with a frown at the papers and books that now lay scattered over the floor.

“Are ye cleanin’?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. “Because ye are doin’ it wrong.”

“What dae ye want?” he muttered.

“What dae I want? I was in my workroom and thought we were bein’ invaded. I walk up the stairs and there’s a hundred servants standin’ listenin’ to their master losin’ his mind by the door. What dae ye think ye’re doin’?”

Callum took a long sip from his glass. “Moira took the girls.”

Kristen’s shoulders lowered, her eyes softening as she nodded slowly.

“Aye, I heard,” she looked around at the mess at her feet. “And then ye decided to destroy yer brother’s study?”

“Aye.”

“And where is yer bride?”

Callum’s fingers tightened around the glass as he stared into the middle distance.

“She is leavin’,” he said bitterly, glancing at Kristen as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Is that so?”

“Aye.”

“And why is she leavin’? What did ye dae?” she demanded.

“Why does it have to be my fault?”

“Because I ken ye, Callum Murray. I have kenned ye since ye were runnin’ around me maither’s house in the village makin’ a nuisance of yerself with me husband.

I have seen the way yer bride looks at ye, so I dinnae think she is leavin’ willingly.

And I have seen the way ye look at her .

So how do two people who care for one another get ripped apart by a woman who has already destroyed yer life once? ”

“She says it is best that she leave. Moira said she’ll bring back the girls if Lydia is gone.”

“Och, aye? And since when has Moira Lawson ever done anythin’ that doesnae serve herself?”

“What would ye have me dae?”

Kristen stepped over a pile of books and came to stand before him. Callum had never felt small around a woman before until he saw the fierce expression on her face.

“Somethin’, M’Laird,” she said darkly. “I would recommend ye dae somethin’ other than sittin’ gettin’ drunk and makin’ a mess o’ the place. Those wee bairns and yer wife deserve a lot more than that from their Laird. Have ye tried talkin’ to her? That’s usually a good start.”

Kristen turned, her long hair swishing behind her back as she did so.

She closed the door, and Callum was left in the dark alone. He crumpled the letter against his chest, wincing at the pain he still felt at reading his brother’s words.

“I willnae let Moira ruin our lives again, Angus. That is a solemn promise.”