Page 78 of Her Reluctant Highlander Husband

“Stop, ye wee beast,” George scolded his twin, Geneva, who sat next to him at the table. He’d taken to Dorie’s brogue quickly, despite his parents’ dismay.

“George. You’ll stop calling your sister names or you’ll be sent from the table.” Her father gave him a stern look to go with the reprimand.

“Aye,” he answered glumly and sank lower in his chair. His success was short lived. A moment later he sat up and looked at Dorie. “Are you a bastard?”

Everyone at the table gasped in surprise and shock.

“George! To your room right this moment,” Harriet snapped, her face red with embarrassment.

“Why must I go?” he whined. “Philip said she was. I was just asking.”

Dorie felt sympathy for her youngest brother.

“Room. Now. I’ll deal with you later,” her father said, and turned to his oldest son who had flushed red with anger at his brother. “Why would you say such a thing? Especially in front of the little ones? I’m ashamed of you.”

“Ashamed of m-me?” Philip stammered in affront. “I’m not the one who was born out of wedlock,” the boy declared.

Harriet muttered and looked up at the ceiling as if praying for patience. “You can go to your room as well, young man.”

At this point in the horrible ordeal, Geneva began to cry and ran from her seat to fling herself into Dorie’s lap, begging her not to leave because George was bad and Philip was mean.

“It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere, love,” Dorie promised her little sister.

Nadia glared at her and left without a word. Dorie thought perhaps the other girl was upset that Geneva liked Dorie more than her. Or maybe Nadia blamed Dorie for the trouble Philip had landed in. Dorie hadn’t yet won the older children over, that was obvious.

“I’m sorry to have caused so much trouble,” Dorie said while patting Geneva.

“It’s not your fault, dear. It’s me who is sorry for the way my children have behaved,” Harriet said, frowning toward the door where three of the children had gone.

“It’s a big change for them. For all of us, really,” her father explained. “Everyone will settle in soon enough. It will be fine.”

Dorie nodded, but she wasn’t sure if her father was trying to convince her or himself.

Each day she waited for something to change. For the pain to lessen. For her to be happy here in England. But each night she went to bed having failed.

She missed her friends. Her dog. She wanted her old bed. And most of all she craved her husband.

Surely things would have to get better soon.

…

Lach’s brows were drawn in that way that meant he was about to bestow bad news. Bryce didn’t need bad news. He was miserable enough as it was.

“What is it now?” he asked. Better to head off trouble.

“Before Dorien left, he offered to send men to aid in the takeover of Baehaven. As you can imagine, he has his own reasons to make sure the laird falls.”

Bryce’s eyes went wide at this news. He knew the viscount would be happy to put an end to the McCurdy who’d killed the woman he’d loved. Not that he needed a good reason. If he was willing to give help, they’d surely take it. Before Bryce could say anything, Lach put up his hand to halt any questions.

“I didn’t tell you and Cam because I wasn’t certain if he would come through, and it didn’t change our plans. I still want the Fletchers, Campbells, and Stewarts next to us when we overtake the McCurdys. It will show the rest of the clans we have the support of others, and ensure no one challenges us after we take Baehaven.”

“How many men does Sutherland offer?” Cam asked.

Bryce only wanted to know if there was news of Dorie and if she was well.

“Enough to make the difference between facing a battle and facing their surrender.”

Surrender meant no risk of spilling MacKinlay blood, something Lachlan had fretted over all this time. This was the answer to moving on and finishing this once and for all.