Chapter 17
“He hasnae spoken yet?” Ryan asked, scrubbing his hand over his face as Colby stretched himself out on the armchair in Ryan’s study.
“Nay,” Colby said. “Seems he’s protectin’ whoever hired him.”
Ryan grunted as he processed that. There were plenty of reasons someone might protect the identity of the person who hired them to carry out a murder. Perhaps there was money involved or threats on the man’s family. Or perhaps it was pride.
“We may have to try another method to get him to talk,” Colby continued, raising an eyebrow at Ryan. “I have some ideas if ye need them.”
“I daenae care for yer ideas, Colby,” Ryan said, leveling him with a glare. “I have me own ideas. Ye ken the man and whoever paid him will be brought to justice.”
“Ach, ye’re nay fun,” Colby groaned before rising to his feet. “And ye’ve gone soft. What happened to the Ryan Morris that everyone kent as ruthless and battle-hungry?”
“I’m nae soft, ye bastard,” Ryan said, resisting the urge to punch his best friend. “I’m tryin’ to make sure we catch the man who ordered the hit on me cousin. I cannae be rash here, nae matter how much I want to bash his skull in.”
“Well, if ye ever change yer mind, I’m happy to help with me methods.”
“I think I should be worried about ye,” Ryan murmured. “Maybe I’ll call a priest to make sure there’s nothin’ wrong with ye.”
Colby laughed with his whole body, clapping a hand over the Laird’s shoulder. With a grin, he said, “Yer sense of humor’s comin’ back.”
Ryan kept his face blank. That only seemed to push Colby further. He let out another laugh, shaking the Laird slightly.
“It’s yer new wife, the Sassenach,” he said, so assured of himself that Ryan couldn’t help but roll his eyes.
Aye, he’s probably right. I’m nae goin’ to give him the satisfaction of admittin’ it, though. He’s already havin’ too much fun.
“And what makes ye say that?” Ryan asked, knocking Colby’s hand off his shoulder. “I’m inclined to believe ye’re just seein’ what ye want to see.”
“Ye tease her the way ye used to tease Aaron before yer cousin passed away,” Colby said. “It’s like the old Ryan is finally comin’ back.”
The words made Ryan freeze. When his cousin passed away, he was forced to take the title of Laird and leave his best friend and the clan he led.
Before that loss, though, Ryan was a completely different person.
He’d laughed easily, told jokes with the men he fought with.
And most notably, he didn’t use to stay at Castle McGhee.
He was sure Colby wasn’t referring to the period of his life when he’d been a bit of a rogue, though.
“Ye’ve been eavesdroppin’,” Ryan said.
As Ryan reflected on the past few days, he had to admit that Colby had a point. He did enjoy teasing Margaret. Though he’d argue that she made it easy, and no one else in the castle reacted to him the way that she did. It wasn’t quite as entertaining to get under anyone else’s skin.
“Eavesdroppin’?” Colby asked. “Nay. I was just watchin’ the two of ye at the cèilidh yesterday. Seemed as though ye couldnae stop pokin’ fun at her.”
“Perhaps everyone was simply in good spirits,” Ryan suggested.
“Perhaps,” Colby said, though it didn’t sound as though he truly believed what Ryan said. “I still think yer Sassenach has made ye soft.”
“Ye’ve got to stop callin’ her that,” Ryan said. “She doesnae like it.”
“I told ye, Me Laird,” Colby said, crossing his arms triumphantly, “ye’re gettin’ soft.”
I suppose I have been a wee bit softer toward Margaret. But I have to. She pulls away when I act like a brute, and she isnae afraid to call me a beast over the slightest things.
“Perhaps I have to soften up,” Ryan said dryly. “Me wife seems terrified if I’m nae. I need an heir soon. I cannae make one if she doesnae want to be near me.”
Colby was quiet for a moment, examining Ryan. The playful demeanor he had possessed a few moments ago was gone. He scratched his chin, narrowing his eyes.
“Is that the only reason ye’re softenin’ up, then?” Colby asked, almost accusatory. “Just because ye need an heir.”
“Of course, it is,” Ryan said, standing a little straighter, taking advantage of the slight height advantage he had on his right-hand man. “Why wouldnae it be?”
Colby scoffed, cuffing his hand on Ryan’s shoulder as he began to walk toward the door. His parting words rang in Ryan’s ears long after he was left alone in his study.
“Ye need to stop lyin’ to yerself, Ryan.”
Margaret wandered around the quarters she had stayed in for the first weeks that she lived in the castle. She’d come here to find something to do but found that it was pointless. There weren’t any personal items here. It wasn’t as though she had been here long enough to accumulate anything.
She remembered the easel and the set of paints she had back in England. She’d never been very good at it, but it had been one of her favorite ways to pass the time. The last few days had been such a whirlwind that she hadn’t had time to miss it.
“Me Lady?” Cali said from the doorway, causing Margaret to spin around.
“Cali!” Margaret said excitedly. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Ye are?” Cali asked with a smile on her face. “Did ye need somethin’?”
“Yes,” Margaret confirmed. “I was wondering if there were any painting supplies in the castle.”
Cali’s brow furrowed as she thought. After a moment, she frowned and shook her head, saying, “I daenae think so. I’m sorry. I could see about gettin’ ye some though.”
“That would be lovely,” Margaret said with a grateful nod of her head. “It’s the first day I haven’t had anything to do. I hate to admit it, but I’m a little bored.”
“Have ye been to the gardens today?” Cali suggested. “Perhaps that could entertain ye.”
“I have been,” Margaret said, glancing out the window at the woods beyond the castle walls. “I was just hoping for something a little more… exciting.”
“Exciting?” Cali asked, her voice getting closer as she took a few steps forward.
I have my freedom. I don’t think I have to stay in the castle. Perhaps…
“Cali,” Margarett said, turning to look at her maid, “would you join me for a walk?”
Cali seemed surprised, but then she asked, “A walk? Where would ye like to go?”
“Just around the castle,” Margaret said, gesturing at the woods in the distance. “I’d like to get closer to the forest. I’ve never seen anything like it in England.”
With a grin, Cali offered Margaret her arm and said, “Then let’s go, Me Lady.”
Margaret hooked her hand in the crook of Cali’s elbow, allowing herself to be led from her room. Cali navigated the corridors of the castle with ease, something that Margaret envied. And before Margaret knew it, they were outside.
“I’d been lookin’ for ye,” Cali said as the two walked toward the tree line. “I havenae seen ye since yesterday mornin’.”
“Yesterday was a blur,” Margaret said, looking back on the day fondly. As crazy as it had been, she couldn’t deny that the day’s festivities were better than she could have expected. “And I slept nearly until lunchtime today.”
“Ach, so ye’re havin’ a good time with yer new husband, then?” Cali asked, leaning in closer and wiggling her eyebrows in a way that made Margaret giggle.
When she got herself under control, Margaret said, “I’ll admit, he’s not as brutish as I expected him to be. He’s still a bit… rough around the edges as you put it yesterday, but I suppose that’s to be expected.”
Cali hummed as she pulled Margaret closer to avoid a fallen branch. The smell of fresh earth caressed Margaret’s senses. She couldn’t believe how thick the forest was and felt as if she could be sucked in. Truthfully, she thought she might welcome it.
It seems that I have a bit of Eva’s adventurous spirit after all.
“Ye ken,” Cali said with a bit of a laugh, “I’ve heard that Scottish men have a reputation of bein’ violent down in England.”
“I suppose you could say that,” Margaret agreed, letting herself chuckle. “My aunt was constantly telling me to avoid Highlanders because of their reputation.”
“I suppose it makes sense. Ye English are very concerned about bein’ proper,” Cali mused before looking over at Margaret and giving her an apologetic look. “I hope I didnae offend ye.”
“You didn’t,” Margaret assured her, watching as a tiny bird swooped down from the trees before returning to its perch. “You’re right. It’s all very…”
“Stuffy?” Cali suggested. Her tone was jovial, but Margaret knew there was some truth to it.
“I’d say rule-driven,” Margaret laughed as she shook her head. “But I suppose that stuffy is a good word for it as well.”
“Ach, the English!” Cali cried, throwing her free hand in the air.
Margaret dissolved into a fit of giggles. It was nice to have found a friend here. Truthfully, if it weren’t for Cali, Margaret thought she might have lost her mind. Because of moments like this, she was able to tackle the confusing parts of her new situation.
“I think Highland men have that reputation because they’re more than willin’ to kill to protect what’s theirs,” the maid said after a few moments. “But they’d never kill or hurt someone just to be violent. That’s nae the kind of men they are.”
They continued along the tree line, listening to the wind rustling the leaves. It was so green that Margaret had difficulty believing somewhere like this truly existed. The beauty she was finding in the Highlands was beyond her wildest dreams.
I’ll get myself some paints soon, and I’ll try to recreate it. I know it won’t be perfect, but it’ll be fun.
“I suppose I’m learning that about Scottish men,” Margaret admitted, a branch snapping underfoot. “But my whole life, I’ve been taught that they’re brutish without reason. I’m having trouble replacing everything that I’ve been taught with everything that I’ve seen.”
“Ye’ll just have to give it a bit of time,” Cali assured her. “Soon, ye will nae want to change anythin’ or anyone.”
“You think?” Margaret asked, turning away from the gorgeous landscape to face her maid.
“I ken,” Cali said. Then, she leaned in close, winking as she said, “Besides, I hear that Scottish men are much better in bed than the English ones.”
“Cali!” Margaret exclaimed, her face burning. “I—”
“Ach, I forgot,” Cali laughed, throwing her head back as joy coursed through her. “Ye’re English. Ye daenae talk like this in the south.”
“We don’t,” Margaret said, straightening her skirt if only to have something to do with her hands. “Topics such as… that are only discussed behind closed doors. And I’ve never heard anyone comparing men’s… performance.”
“I’ve overheard quite a bit about both the Scots and the English,” Cali said. “I think ye made the choice that’s goin’ to satisfy ye the most in the end. Women married to Highlanders always have nothin’ but good things to say about their husbands.”
“Well… I…” Margaret said, trying and failing to come up with something to say in response. Finally, she let her shoulders drop as she admitted, “Well, I don’t have any opinions on that.”
“Ye will soon,” Cali said, patting Margaret’s hand where it was clutching the crook of her elbow. “In fact, I think ye’ll be runnin’ to me to tell me all about how incredible the Laird is.”
“Cali, hush,” Margaret said, her face still burning as she giggled. “You’d count yourself lucky if I shared anything about—”
Margaret cut herself off abruptly, her head swinging toward the trees. Cali followed her line of sight, taking half a step forward. When Margaret tried to hold her back, Cali pried her hand off and pushed past her elbow.
“What are you doing?” Margaret hissed, the hair on her arms standing on end.
It feels like we’re being watched.
Just as Margaret was about to suggest the two of them return to the castle, the underbrush crunched. Cali took a step back, and something burst from the tree line. Margaret screamed, throwing herself backward, shielding her face. The sound echoed back to her, and she could barely breathe.
This is the end, isn’t it?