Page 67 of Her Reluctant Highlander Husband

Lachlan nodded. “I think even ye can agree, a MacKinlay’s word is more trustworthy than yours.”

The man made no attempt to dispute his claim, which was telling. All of Bryce’s life he’d heard tales of the lowly McCurdys and how their word wasn’t worth shite. How horrible to not have pride in your word.

“We lost a group of scouts a few weeks ago. We were sent to find them.”

Bryce knew well enough what had happened to their scouts, but he was willing to play along to get the information he needed. “Why would you be looking for your scouts on MacKinlay lands unless it was the MacKinlays you were spying on?”

The man looked away, jaw set.

“Come along, Bryce. We’ll leave him to his fate.”

“Hold. I’ll tell you.”

Bryce waited.

“Wallace sent us to see if you’ve brought in other clans to aid you in your plans to take over Baehaven.”

“And why would ye think we plan to try such a thing?” Lachlan asked while eyeing Bryce.

“Wallace wants you to attack, but not to win. He’s tired of waiting for his sire to die and wants to speed it along. But the war chief worries he’s gotten the clan into a battle we might not win.”

“You’re aiding Wallace to overthrow your laird?” Lach sneered in disgust at the man who had only a few moments ago planned to die rather than be a traitor to his clan.

“Aye, but not because I chose to. Most of the castle is shifting sides because they fear what Wallace will do to them when he takes over.”

“There’s no hope for the laird to remain in his seat?”

“It doesna appear so. Either Wallace takes him or you do.”

Lach raised a brow in Bryce’s direction but said nothing in front of the McCurdy. He didn’t need to. Bryce understood. It was a good sign that the McCurdy clan was fracturing. It would be easier to convert their loyalty when the time came. If the clan was already warring with itself, they might reduce their own numbers enough that the MacKinlays would be positioned for an easy takeover.

“The scouts and the men today were there under direction of Wallace, but the laird dinna know?”

“Aye.”

“How many of your men do you think are loyal to the heir?”

“All but a few. But if you think they will follow you, you’re wrong. Wallace McCurdy will be the next laird of Baehaven.” The man coughed and moaned, sweat beading on his forehead from the pain.

“Bring this man whisky,” Lach ordered, and one of the maids brought it immediately.

“Do what you can to make him comfortable,” Bryce whispered to Abagail. To the man he said, “I wish you well, and if you don’t live, my men and I will say a prayer for your soul.”

The man only nodded and took a big swig of whisky, along with whatever Abagail had sneaked into the liquid, and the man drifted quickly off to sleep.

“Can you save him?” he asked the healer, knowing the answer already.

She shook her head. “Nay. But it doesna mean I won’t give it my best effort.”

“Make certain he’s not in any pain.” When the time came, that was all any of them could ever ask for.

…

During the next week, while the viscount’s leg healed, he and Dorie didn’t speak again of the annulment. Her father didn’t bring it up once during all the hours they spent together in the solar during those days, though she could tell he’d wanted to ask.

She often caught him staring at her with his lips pressed together, but still he said nothing. She almost wanted him to bring it up…as much as she never wanted to hear the word again.

This morning he’d told her he needed to leave for his estate in a few days, now that his leg had healed enough for travel. Her time was running out. She had to decide what to do to ensure a happy life. Would that be with the man she loved, who couldn’t love her back, or in a new country with a new family and a chance at love for herself?