Page 110 of Claimed by a Highlander
“Nay, I don’t.” She jerked her hand away. “I wouldn’t have my son be a thief and take it from the rightful heir. He’d be no better than Hector.”
Rory tried to hold on to his temper and failed. “Do not compare any son of mine to Hector.”
“You’ve let your pride blind ye to the truth.”
“And what truth is that?”
“Your blood runs through that lad’s veins. As I see it, ye have a duty to him, and ’tis high time ye accepted it.”
“I’ll do anything else ye asked,” he said.
“Then let the lad stay here.”
A short time later, they were saying their farewells to the Grants. Rory’s jaw hurt from gritting his teeth. Though he did not like it, he could not think of a better compromise. And what harm could it do to let the lad stay for a time?
“If I am any judge of women, your bride is none too pleased with ye,” Grant said, and elbowed Rory in the ribs. “Mind your step, MacKenzie, or I’ll steal her away.”
By the saints, Sybil had even won over crusty old Grant. The man tried Rory’s patience to the breaking point when he took his leave of Sybil.
“An older man has the wisdom to recognize a woman of value when he sees one,” Grant said, and kissed her hand. “And he knows how to treat a wife.”
CHAPTER 38
Hector had made certain the Grant chieftain learned of Rory’s marriage, and he was looking forward to hearing how the old goat received the news. As he waited for Duncan, he rubbed the talisman of his dead brother’s ear and imagined Grant’s humiliation.
Grant needed to pay for raising a slut of a daughter. God how Hector had wanted that lass. More than any other, except for Agnes, of course. He gritted his teeth as he recalled how he’d burned with desire when she sent a message through her maidservant that she wished to speak with him in the castle courtyard. He thought she chose a place where they would be in view of others because she was an innocent lass who protected her reputation.
He remembered her smile as she told him she had given her virginity to Rory.I confess I can’t control myself around your handsome nephew, she’d said, all wide-eyed with feigned innocence. He would have knocked her to the ground and had his way with her until he wiped that mocking smile off her face, but there were too many witnesses.
Aye, the Grants needed to pay for his humiliation, and it was only fitting that the slut’s son play a part in Rory’s destruction.
When Big Duncan came in, Hector poured them two whiskies and sat down to enjoy the tale.
“Old Grant got on his horse and rode straight to Castle Leod with his grandson to confront your nephew.”
“Ha! I suppose it’s too much to hope that they came to blows in front of both clans?”
“They might have, if Rory’s new wife had not smoothed everything over, as if she was churning butter.”
Hector slammed his fist on the table. His fury grew as Duncan related how the damned woman had welcomed the lad and won over the Grants, including Rory’s castoff bride.
“No one knows how she persuaded him, but Rory allowed the lad to stay,” Duncan said. “They say the lad sticks to her like a burr.”
“The sly bitch.” Hector drummed his fingers on the table. “She must realize Rory can’t afford a clan war with the Grants now. And she can always rid herself of the lad later.”
“What do ye want me to do?” Duncan asked. “Have her killed?”
“Not her. At least not yet.” Hector went to the window and stared out over the fields in the direction of his enemy. “The Grant lad can still serve his purpose.”
The boy was just one piece of his plan.
“Time to sharpen our swords.” He was a fighting man and tired of sitting in Fairburn Tower. He was looking forward to the battles ahead.
“When do I get that lass ye promised me?” Duncan asked.
“You’ll have her after her grandmother plays her part,” Hector said. “Then ye can do with her as ye please.”
Hector almost felt sorry for the lass. He had seen what Duncan did to the last one when they disposed of the body.
