Reunited (Book 2 of Lost Highlander series) (27 page)

If Daria was here, she would be sorry. Piper swallowed her sadness, her fear and her anger. She was going to be ready. She was going to fight.

The End

Tavish Glen stared into the guttering remains of a stub of candle on the ancient scarred table before him. As it flickered its last, he scowled at his young attendant, who had been nodding at his post behind the laird.

With a frightened dip of his head, the lad hurried to replace the candle with a fresh one.

Tavish ran his hand over his weathered cheeks and scratched his dark russet beard, only just beginning to be shot with strands of silver. If he continued to be plagued by the upstart clans that surrounded him, he’d be completely white by winter.

“Damned Ferguson,” he growled, pounding his fist on the table.

His trusted advisor jumped, trying to look as if he had been alert all the while. Tavish had been silently ruminating for so long, he had almost fallen asleep in his chair. He cleared his throat and cast an expectant look at his old friend and master. Not wanting to be the first to speak, he waited for Tavish to elaborate.

“I’ll no’ be made a fool by him,” he said, giving Gordon a gimlet eye. “No longer.”

“Aye, m’laird,” he agreed reluctantly.

“Aye.” Tavish stood up and began pacing the length of the table. “I am beginning to believe the blackguard Ferguson may have been in league with Brian Duncan all the while, or at least had something to do with the man’s escape.”

“Do ye?” Gordon asked skeptically. “Certainly he had no part in the murders? Whatever ye think of the man’s character, ye canna believe that?”

Tavish stopped in his pacing and gripped the worn edge of the table. The veins in his neck bulged, and his eyes flared with rage.

Gordon swallowed hard, but continued with what he thought was calming logic. “He brought Duncan to us. He didna have to do that after he escaped the tower. He could have just gone home.”

The silence that ensued was rife with tension. Tavish eased himself back into his chair and closed his eyes, suddenly an old, broken man.

“He wanted to worm his way into our good will, weaken us from within. What better way than to bring us an enemy and pretend to be our ally. I was fooled by his talk of honor, taken in by his lies.”

His voice faltered on the last words and he drooped in his chair. He looked to his oldest friend and laughed. “Aye, Gordon, I let the fox into the henhouse, and now the man is married to my daughter.”

“Perhaps the relationship between the clans may be salvaged by the union,” Gordon offered, chagrined that it came out sounding like a question and not the firm, hopeful statement he’d meant it to be.

The shattered old man was transformed once again by a new wave of anger and stood up so fast his chair toppled behind him.

As the attending lad rushed forward to right it, Tavish flung out a hand to stop him, then rounded on his advisor.

“Can ye no’ believe he has stolen my daughter, after shaming her with his antics in the village?” he shouted.

Gordon tried not to squirm in his chair and couldn’t meet Tavish’s eye.  

“Aye, so ye have heard the stories of the strumpet he was with at the inn? That he brought her with him onto my land?”

“The brother told one of the stable lads that the young lady was with him,” Gordon said, one last ditch effort at keeping the peace.

“More lies, I’ve no doubt,” Tavish yelled. He dropped his head into his hands and shuddered. “Who knows what depraved things go on up there? I canna believe I let her go.” He looked beseechingly at Gordon. “She tried to tell me their union was a lie and that Ferguson was a madman. I canna believe how fooled I was.”

“We must give this a night for reflection, and convene in the morn,” Gordon said as firmly as he could.

The look that Tavish gave him nearly froze his blood.

“Would ye say that were it yer daughter?” he asked, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I dinna know what can be done. They are married, m’laird,” he said primly. “Witnessed by us all.”

“No longer,” he bellowed. “A marriage based on deceit. A false contract. My Bella told me ‘twas no’ consummated.” With a look of wild fury tinged with helpless despair, he once again slammed his hands on the table. “I should have cut Ferguson down where he stood today. Instead I let him ride out with my only daughter.”

Tavish gave a terse nod to the two warriors that stood guard at the door. Silently, they turned and left the room, having been waiting for the slightest command.

With a sinking heart, Gordon knew what was coming, and that no amount of reasoning or cajoling would stop it.

Tavish Glen wanted blood. And blood he would have.

Please visit
at
cassidycayman.wordpress.com
 for teasers and updates on new releases.

I’d love to hear what you think of the book!

Leave a message at the blog or email me at
[email protected]

Sign up for email updates!