Page 82 of Defy the Highlander

Hoping for.

Lilia was finally going to fall.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The doors.

Brody stood before enormous oak doors that had been carved into figures from Celtic mythology. Fantastic creatures were on the panels along with warriors bearing great muscles and great weapons. They were quite intricate and he stood there a moment, inspecting them, before softly rapping on the door.

The knocks reverberated throughout the foyer.

He was holding the chest that Clegg had given him and it was quite heavy. When no one answered his knock, he tried again, louder this time. As he wondered if Laird Currie was even in the chamber, he began to hear shuffling on the other side. A bolt was thrown. Slowly, the door creaked open and an old man with long, white hair appeared.

“Who are ye?” he asked. “What do ye want?”

Brody wasn’t sure how to answer that except with the truth. “Sir Clegg de Lave of the Ludus Caledonia sent me,” he said. “Are ye Laird Currie?”

The old man blinked as if startled both by the answer and the question. “Clegg has sent ye?”

“If ye are Laird Currie, he has.”

The old man hesitated for a split second before moving aside, opening the door to admit Brody. “Aye,” he said. “Clegg de Lave truly sent ye?”

Brody moved into the chamber, which turned out to be a vast and magical place that smelled of dust and smoke. It was quite cluttered, filled to the rafters with books and treasures that Brody couldn’t even begin to guess about.

There were also rats.

He saw several of them gathered on a messy table, looking at him with their beady rat eyes. “Aye, he did, m’laird,” he said, eyeing the rats. “My name is Brody McKay. I’ve come with a message.”

Laird Currie came around to stand in front of him, watching him as he set the heavy chest onto the ground. “I’ve not seen Clegg in a year,” he said. “Is the man well?”

“Well, m’laird.”

“What message does he send me?”

Brody looked at the old man; really looked at him. He remembered Lilia telling him that Laird Currie was much older than his wife and he could see that it was the truth. He was old enough to be her grandfather. He was tall and thin, with stringy white hair and an odd cap on his head. He appeared rather odd in general, but Brody also remember that Lilia told him of the old man’s kindness.

Already, he felt pity for the man and the life he was relegated to with a frisky young wife.

“It is a long story, m’laird, so I’ll beg yer patience while I tell it,” he said after a moment. “First – may we bolt the door? We dunna want any interruptions.”

Laird Currie scurried over to the doors, throwing the big bolt that more than likely would have stopped a herd of stampeding cattle. It was enormous. He rushed back over to Brody.

“It must be important if I am bolting doors,” he said.

“It is,” Brody said. “It is easiest if I start from the beginning. I am the warrior yer wife purchased from the Ludus Caledonia.”

Laird Currie never changed expressions. “Are ye, now?” he said as if very interested in that fact. “Ye must be a great warrior.”

Brody shrugged. “There was a time when men called me the Highland Protector,” he said. “I’ve seen my share of battles.”

“Ye look it. Ye’re a big lad.”

Brody snorted. “Big enough, I suppose,” he said. “M’laird, I’m not sure how much ye know about the situation, so forgive me if I’m blunt. I know of no other way than tae be truthful. Yer wife dinna purchase my contract so I could protect Hawkhill. She purchased me tae be her lover.”

The old man nodded. “She chose well,” he said. “I told her if she was tae buy a father for my son, then he should be strong and intelligent.”

Brody frowned. “Then ye know why she did this?” he asked. “Ye told her tae?”