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

“Raise the gates!”

As Callum rode into the castle, his rump was aching from days in the saddle, and he was desperate for a dram of whiskey.

Although acquiring his bride had been remarkably easy, his time in London had left him irritable and out of sorts.

Lydia Turner’s father seemed to possess fewer scruples than anyone Callum had yet met. The arrogance of the man had been staggering.

But at least I have a wife coming to me now. I have someone who can give the wee ones the life they deserve.

His horse slowed to a trot, snorting loudly and champing at the bit, eager for his feed and rest.

Callum patted him on the neck. He was the same horse that had taken him away from this castle after Angus’s betrayal, and was the only other constant in his life.

At eighteen hands, he was enormous, cantankerous, and had a wild gleam in his eyes that warned lesser men to keep their distance.

“Stop your mitherin’, Seamus,” Callum murmured, scratching the horse’s sweaty neck as he dismounted.

The stable hand, a beefy man and as wide as he was tall, watched Seamus warily.

“Dinnae mind him,” Callum said gruffly. “Ye will feed him, and he’ll come to heel.”

The groom nodded as the reins landed in his hands and turned, tugging the horse behind him.

Seamus didn’t move, glaring at Callum.

“Oh, aye. Like that, is it?”

He pulled the other half of an apple from his pocket, walking to Seamus’s heavy head and placing it beneath his mouth. The horse chomped down on the apple happily and buffeted his huge nose into Callum’s chest for good measure.

“Ye’re a menace,” he whispered, watching Seamus walk slowly away, the sweat bunching in white foam around his legs.

“Ye’re returned!”

Callum’s jaw clenched at the sound of Alexander’s voice. His very presence felt like needles in his skin.

There’s only one way to resolve me anger toward him, and I may as well see to it now.

“Aye,” he said, turning to face him. Alexander’s eyes were wary as he came up to him, a loose léine against his chest and dark breeches over his thick leather boots.

“How was it? Did ye find a bride as ye hoped?”

“Come with me,” he growled.

Alexander followed behind him as Callum walked through the arch, and they entered the training area.

There were a multitude of weapons to choose from, but Callum headed for the swords. Even in his years of exile, he had always made sure he was fit and strong, tending to train two or three times a day.

Nobody was going to come up on his castle and find him weak and listless.

“Choose yer weapon.”

“M’Laird?” Alexander looked bewildered.

“Now. Unless you want me to run ye through without a fight.”

The man-at-arms quickly walked to the other wall and took down a long sword to match.

Callum held his weapon up to him, letting the anger of the day surge back beneath his skin.

“We’re goin’ to have this out, man to man, and then we’ll nae speak of the past again.”

Alexander fidgeted, shifting his weight and scratching nervously at his neck.

“Ye have me loyalty, M’Laird, I willnae?—”

“This isnae about what I have. It’s about what I lost.”

He swung, without warning, and the swords clashed in mid-air. Alexander was taken by surprise, but he rallied quickly, striking back, slicing upward through the air and knocking Callum’s sword away.

He’s better than he was when I left.

The two men began slowly, but as the coiled anger in his gut started to build, Callum used his strength to dominate the fight.

Alexander’s eyes grew wide as Callum struck and cut at him, biding his time before he dealt the final blow.

Both of them were puffing hard, Alexander backing slowly toward the wall. He was holding back, not fighting with his full strength, and Callum knew it would be to convince his Laird that he was not his enemy.

He still watched me braither torture and disown me without a word to defend me. Me best friend, and he didnae speak up once.

Flicking the sword high and wide, the clang of metal echoed around the walls of the small courtyard as Alexander’s sword was struck from his hand, skidding over the floor.

He was cornered, unarmed, and vulnerable, and as Callum crowded him, he fell to his knees, hands held high against the next blow.

Callum looked down on him, breathing heavily. Alexander might be beaten, but he showed no fear.

“If ye kill me, I understand,” Alexander said softly. “But I want ye to ken I’ll never betray ye. Not for the rest of me life.”

Alexander’s throat bobbed as Callum placed the sword beneath the other man’s chin.

They had an audience now, the other guards about the keep were looking down on them from the battlements, servants pausing in their tasks, staring in disbelief.

“Ye swear it?” Callum muttered.

“With me life.”

Callum raised his sword, and Alexander’s eyes finally filled with fear as he sliced down toward him. The blade cut a long slice across the other man’s chest, enough to scar but not to kill him.

Alexander crumpled forward, a hand coming up to press his léine into his chest, where blood blossomed out beneath his palm.

“A scar for a scar, then.”

Callum threw the sword aside, offering his hand, and after a moment to recover himself, Alexander took it, wincing as he was pulled to his feet.

“M’Laird,” he huffed, his breaths sharp as he dealt with the pain.

“Go and clean yerself up and we’ll call things even.”

Alexander bowed awkwardly and walked back through the arch and toward the castle entrance.

“Alexander,” Callum called, following behind as the man-at-arms turned.

“Yes, M’Laird.”

“Are ye still seein’ that seamstress in the village?”

Alexander’s gaze softened a little. “Aye. We are married now.”

“What was her name?”

“Kristen.”

“Ask Kristen to come and see me. I cannae have a bride freezin’ to death, and those English dresses willnae be any good here.”

Alexander’s hand clenched on his shirt. “Ye have a bride then, M’Laird?”

“She will arrive next week. Prepare the castle and send a carriage for her.”

“Aye, M’Laird.”

Alexander left hastily, the blood already dripping over his breeches.

“What are ye all gawkin’ at?” Callum cried to the servants who were still staring. “Be about yer business.”

There was a flurry of movement, and the courtyard returned to the familiar sounds of people at work.

Callum wiped his sweaty palms across his jacket and headed back inside, not looking forward to the bundles of papers he would have to sift through to understand the status of his new clan.

As he walked through the entrance, he heard a loud crash, a childish squeal, and something heavy falling to the floor. He ran through the gates and up the stairs two at a time, flinging open the door to the girls’ room in a panic.

Two dark heads turned to him as he did so, Amy gasping and leaping behind her bed to hide from him. Eilis stood her ground, her hands on her hips, glaring at her uncle.

My God, she looks like Angus when she does that.

“What’s all this commotion?” he said firmly, as the two girls exchanged glances.

There was a scuffling sound from somewhere on the floor, and Callum stiffened.

If that’s a rat, I’m slicin’ off its head.

His hand moved to his sword, and Eilis pointed a warning finger at him as if she were a grown woman.

“Ye willnae hurt her. We were just tryin’ to catch her.”

“If ye have befriended a rat or a bird in me house, it willnae live to see another day, lassie.”

“That’s cruel!” Amy said, finding her voice and peeking out from behind her bed. “She hasnae done anythin’ to ye!”

“Who hasnae done what?” he demanded. “What are ye two hidin’ in here?”

Tension rose between his shoulder blades as irrational suspicions grew in his heart.

Perhaps they are as duplicitous as their mother.

The scuffling sound happened again, and then something black streaked across the floor behind one of the cabinets.

Callum strode over, picking up the heavy piece of furniture with one hand to get to the rodent.

But instead of a rat, he saw a tiny bundle of black fur in the corner, huge green eyes looking up at him in terror. It was a kitten, nothing more, and a scrawny one at that.

“Where the hell did a wee cat come from?” Callum muttered, bewildered.

“She’s our pet!” Eilis insisted. He turned on Amy, who was sniffling now, tears building in her enormous eyes.

“Is that so?” he asked. “And why would ye think I’d let a cat into me castle?”

“She needs lookin’ after!”

“And what do two wee girls ken about lookin’ after a kitten? Looks more like a ball of soot than an animal. Are ye sure it isnae cursed?”

Eilis, who was definitely the boldest of the two, pushed past him, her little hand resting briefly on Callum’s calf as she tried to shove him aside. It felt like an ant pushing against a brick wall.

Amy crouched beside the terrified bundle and picked it up. The kitten immediately curled into her tiny arms, shivering violently, a small cry of fear escaping its tiny pink mouth.

To his dismay, Callum felt something crack in his chest.

Dinnae be stupid, man. Ye cannae let them keep it just because they look so sweet together.

“Please, Uncle Callum? We’ll look after her, feed her, and brush her every day!”

Callum sighed. The knot of tension in his shoulders growing stronger by the second.

But the two girls had lost everything that they cared about; their father had died, and their mother was gone.

Some mother that witch was.

He knew he should say no. The kitten would be a nightmare for the staff and would likely get itself stuck upside down somewhere, causing all sorts of strife.

But the little girls were looking up at him as if he were something other than a monster for the first time. They were both imploring him to allow them this one gift, and to finally see no fear in their eyes was a powerful thing.

“All right,” he said wearily. “But ye will be responsible for it. It doesnae leave yer side, and if it gets lost, ye will find it yerselves and nae bother me staff. Understood?”

They both nodded vigorously as the kitten climbed up Eilis’s arm and onto her shoulder, balancing there to glare at him.

“And give the damned thing a bath.”

“Ye curse a lot,” Eilis said reproachfully.

“Aye, well, I am nay gentleman, lassie.”

He left them happily huddled over the kitten, and as he left the room, his thoughts moving to the next guest he would have to welcome into his home.

And now she will have a kitten to care for, too.

Just before he had gone to speak with Lydia’s father, Callum had watched as a young boy ran across the lawns and into her arms.

The affection in her eyes when she greeted him had made Callum even more certain she would be the right woman to care for his nieces. But there were no guarantees in this life, he knew that better than anyone.

Even if she’s nae good at raisin’ bairns, she’ll have to learn to live with it just like all of us. At least she’ll be better than a beast.