The Highlander’s Unwanted Wife (English Lasses in Scotland #2)

Prologue

“Yer line dies with me…” Daniel knelt beside the bed and whispered in his father’s ear, drawing back and looking at the man he had once called Father.

The candle flickered, casting shadows across the dark room, providing just enough light to illuminate the figure that lay under the covers of the four-poster bed.

The elderly man’s pale face stared at the ceiling with a tired look of incomprehension in his eyes. The sockets of his eyes were dark and sunken from a lack of sleep that was undoubtedly brought on by the strenuous bouts of coughing.

“Dinnae act as if ye dinnae ken what I’m saying,” Daniel said as he sat back in his chair and watched the questioning look his father gave him as he glanced to the side. “Ye ken very well that ye werenae a faither to me.”

The accusation hung in the air as his father tried to speak, opening and closing his cracked lips like a fish gasping for water.

“I tried… me best…” the old man wheezed with a deathlike rattle in the cavity of his frail chest.

Running his hand through his messy brown hair, Daniel narrowed his brown eyes and glared at the man who had sent him away.

“Ye never tried for anyone other than yerself,” he spat bitterly, recalling the times his father had called him an imbecile for having a stutter.

“Ye sent me away under the guise of improving meself, but we both ken that ye didnae want anyone to see what an embarrassment I was to ye.”

“I wanted… ye… to be better…” the old man wheezed. “Life can be… cruel to those who are… different.” His breathing deepened and slowed as he shut his eyes from the effort of trying to speak. Sweat beaded on his brow as his head lulled to the side.

Daniel scrunched up his nose in disgust. The healer had given orders for his father not to be disturbed, as the man probably didn’t have long to live. The look in his eyes let Daniel know that he’d made it back just in time to have the long-anticipated final conversation with his father.

The elderly man tried to turn on his side but quickly gave up and looked his son in the eye with his head tilted toward him.

“Ye taught me far more about cruelty than the world ever could,” Daniel said darkly and leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him and clasping his hands in his lap.

“Ye got yer wish, Faither,” he added with a forced smirk that couldn’t reflect the anger he felt inside toward the man who had made his life a living hell.

“I am here to be laird of the castle, an’ I can promise ye that I will be everything that ye never were. ”

“That’s all I wanted…” his father wheezed again with effort, his breaths coming in shorter bursts.

Daniel leaned forward again as he stared at his father.

“I want ye to… sire… an heir… an’ be better… than me,” the old man managed before shutting his eyes again. The effort from speaking was clearly etched into the deep lines of his face.

Placing his hands on his knees, Daniel stood and glared at the man about to draw his final breaths.

“I willnae sire an heir for ye.” His anger grew as he spoke, and he balled his fists at his sides.

He turned toward the door and walked across the room before pausing with his hand on the shiny silver knob of the main bedroom.

Tiny cough bouts were beginning to fill the air as his father tried his best to hold back the onslaught, presumably in an attempt to have a say.

“I’m putting a stop to the monster that ye were,” Daniel said coldly with his back turned to the bed. He closed the door behind him as his father began to cough in an uncontrollable fit that summoned the healer from her nearby room.

The old woman picked up her long black skirt, rushing past Daniel and into his father’s room with a concerned look on her face.

Daniel ignored the sounds of panic and screams that emanated from behind the closed door and continued to walk down the passage that led to the main study in the castle. Taking a seat in the dimly lit room, he looked out the window at the rising full moon, clenching his fists over his knees.

With his stutter gone, he had managed to become a well-rounded young man, despite his father’s accusations that he’d never be able to amount to anything of worth in life.

I will keep me word for as long as I live. The sounds of rushing servants and panicked shouts came to an end, reassuring Daniel that he was now the Laird McLaughlin.