Chapter 14
Boyd was angry and agitated.
It had been five days since he'd left MacKinnon Keep. Five days since he'd snuck out of Bella's bed like the coward he was. Five days since he'd seen her bonnie face and inhaled her lavender scent. Five days since he'd felt her curvaceous warm body flush against his.
And all he wanted, all he could think about, was returning home to Bella.
Worse still, he really had no clan matters to attend to that would keep him away from home a whole month. It was all a ruse. In hindsight it seemed silly for him to turn up unannounced at different clans for no good reason.
Which meant Boyd and his men had been riding aimlessly for the past few days, his men following without question, all of them clearly wondering what had possessed their normally decisive laird to wander about the countryside like a lost soul.
Boyd couldn't explain it to them when he couldn't explain it to himself.
He missed her.
Heaven help him, he missed Bella with an intensity that bordered on obsession.
Now, separated by miles of countryside, Boyd found himself thinking of nothing else.
It was pathetic. Ridiculous. He was the Monk, feared across Scotland, and here he was pining for a wife he'd married purely for revenge. But now that he had ample space to think on it, the story he'd believed for a decade had too many holes, too many inconsistencies.
And Boyd couldn't stop thinking about Bella's face when she'd said, "I never played ye false. I loved ye, Boyd."
The raw honesty in her eyes. The pain.
What if?
"Laird!" Thamas's shout cut through Boyd's spiraling thoughts. "Movement in the trees ahead!"
Boyd's warrior instincts snapped into focus, his hand going to his sword. But even as he reached for the weapon, he realized with sick horror that he'd missed the warning signs.
Completely missed them.
He'd been so caught up in thoughts of Bella that he'd failed to notice the telltale stillness of the forest. The absence of birdsong. The way the air felt just before an ambush.
They were already surrounded.
Dark figures dropped from the trees with practiced ease, landing in a circle around Boyd's small contingent. All of them armed. All of them masked.
And in the branches above, Boyd could see at least two archers with arrows nocked and drawn.
Aimed directly at him.
Boyd's men drew their swords instantly, forming a protective circle, but they were outnumbered and outmanoeuvred.
The masked man who was clearly the leader stepped forward, his sword drawn but held casually at his side. There was something familiar about his stance, his build.
"Tsk tsk, if it isn't the legendary Monk," he said, his voice filled with amusement. "'Tis unheard of that mere mortals can sneak up on ye so easily."
Boyd's jaw clenched. He couldn't believe he'd missed the warning signs. Couldn't believe he'd let himself get distracted to the point of endangering his men.
But then recognition dawned, with the Monk reference, and with it came a surge of irritation.
He signaled for his men to lower their swords.
"What the fuck do ye want, Shadow?" Boyd growled. "I dinnae have time for this."
The masked man burst out laughing and pulled down his mask, revealing the grinning face of Cormac Stewart. Dark-haired, dark-eyed, and far too pleased with himself.
"Now, now," Cormac said, his grin widening. "Ye enter my domain, ye pay a price."
"How about I belt ye in the face?" Boyd shot back. "Is that enough for ye?"
"Och no, dinnae mess up my pretty looks. How else will I get the ladies to bed me?"
Boyd rolled his eyes and shook his head, feeling some of the tension drain from his shoulders despite his irritation. "What are ye doing here? This is not yer usual raiding spot."
Cormac signaled to his men, and they lowered their weapons and relaxed their stances. The archers in the trees lowered their bows.
"Not raiding this time," Cormac replied, sheathing his sword. "I'm tracking a group of mercenaries."
Boyd nodded, understanding. Cormac was known as the Shadow because his specialty was information gathering, and his methods were unconventional.
He led a band of raiders who preyed on travelers along certain routes, relieving them of valuables and, more importantly, secrets.
In truth, he was one of the king's most valuable assets.
Every raid was carefully orchestrated. Every victim carefully chosen.
It was dangerous work, and it required Cormac to live outside the law, his reputation forever tarnished whilst he worked in the shadows.
But he did it willingly. For the king.
"Well," Boyd replied gruffly, "if ye're tracking someone, ye'd best get on with it. We'll not keep ye."
"Och, dinnae rush off just yet," Cormac replied, waving a hand dismissively. "My men could use a rest, and I haven't seen ye in months. Besides," his grin turned sly, "I'm curious about this marriage of yers. Lady Bella Sutherland, wasn't it? Have ye finally succumbed to temptation, Monk?"
Boyd's jaw tightened. "There's nothing to discuss!"
"Really?" Cormac gestured to his men to make camp, and they immediately set about building a fire and unpacking provisions.
"Because from where I'm standing, it looks like ye're riding about the countryside instead of being home with yer new bride.
Makes a man wonder if perhaps the marriage bed is not as welcoming as ye'd hoped. "
"The marriage bed is fine!" Boyd bit out.
"Is it?" Cormac settled himself on a fallen log and pulled out a flask, taking a swig before offering it to Boyd. "Then why are ye here and not there?"
"Clan matters."
"Clan matters that has ye riding around in circles like a lovesick fool?"
Boyd snatched the flask from Cormac and took a long drink, welcoming the burn of strong whiskey. "Shut it."
"So how is yer plan to keep her living in squalor going?" Cormac asked.
Thamas, who'd been tending to the horses, couldn't quite hide his smirk as he approached the fire. "The laird moved Lady Bella to the abandoned east wing when they first arrived. Kept her as far from him as possible."
Boyd shot him a glare that should have turned him to stone. "Careful, Thamas—"
But Thamas continued, clearly enjoying himself. "Then three days later, he moved her next to his chamber and had half the Keep busy turning it into a bedroom fit for a queen."
Cormac scoffed. "Three days?" He burst out laughing so loud it echoed through the trees. "Ye lasted three days!"
"What's so damned funny?" Boyd growled.
Cormac was practically wheezing now. "All yer bluster about keeping her out of yer sight, making her suffer, and ye only managed three days!"
"The east wing was unsuitable," Boyd said through clenched teeth. "The chimney was blocked. She had no fire—"
"So ye moved her right next to ye." Cormac winked. "Right beside yer own chamber. Where ye can hear her moving about. Where only a wall separates ye from her bed and her naked body at night."
"Dinnae think about my wife's naked body, ye bastard!" Boyd growled.
"God's teeth, man, ye're smitten with her already!"
"I am not!"
"Then why move her so close if ye wanted her far away?"
"It was more practical."
"Practical." Cormac's grin was positively wicked now. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
Boyd stood abruptly, his hands clenched into fists. "Shadow, ye daft prick, either ye shut yer mouth right now or I'm going to belt it shut with my fist."
But Cormac just chuckled. "Remember when I told ye about revenge needing two graves? I think this is the part where ye're digging yers."
Boyd remembered. Heaven help him, he remembered every word of that conversation.
"Looks like I was right," Cormac continued, his voice softer now, more serious beneath the humor. "The more ye try to hurt her, ye hurt yerself. Maybe even worse."
Boyd sank back onto the log, suddenly exhausted. He took another long drink from the flask and stared into the fire.
"I thought..." He paused, struggling to find the words. "I thought making her suffer would give me peace."
"Has it?" Cormac asked quietly.
"No." The admission was like a knife to the chest. "I cannot sleep unless she's beside me. Cannot stop thinking about her. And the worst part is," Boyd's voice cracked slightly, "I dinnae even ken if she deserves my anger anymore."
Cormac was quiet for a moment, studying Boyd's face in the firelight. "Have ye considered talking to her about the past?"
"She says she never betrayed me. That she loved me."
"And?"
Boyd's hands clenched on the flask. "If she's telling the truth, that means I fell for someone else's lie. It means I'm to blame for everything."
"So, what are ye going to do now?" Cormac asked.
Boyd was quiet for a long moment, staring into the flames. Then, with sudden clarity, he knew.
"I'm going home. I need to see my wife."
Cormac burst out laughing again. "Of course ye are. Ye can barely stand to be away from her. What's it been, one week? And ye're itching to return home like a lovesick pup."
"Fuck ye," Boyd growled, but there was no real heat in it.
Because Cormac was right. Boyd couldn't stay away any longer.
"Well, I'm glad to hear it," Cormac replied with a satisfied expression before he became serious. "Now that I ken ye plan on keeping yer wife, I have some information to share."
Boyd instantly became alert at Cormac's tone. "What is it?"
"Bryce Sutherland has petitioned the council for leniency as is his right."
Boyd stiffened. "And?"
"He seeks a pardon for himself and an annulment of your marriage to his sister."
"The hell he does!" Boyd roared, his fists clenched in anger.
Cormac continued, "He insists she be returned to the abbey. He kens he cannot reclaim her dowry but 'tis her inheritance he wants returned."
Boyd was furious. He felt threatened that someone wanted to take his Bella away from him.
Like hell! He knew he and his men were going to return immediately and the first thing he was going to do was not only clear the air between him and Bella, but also ensure their marriage was consummated and binding.
Mine! Mine! Mine! He kept repeating over and over again in his head.
Then he stilled. "Wait, what inheritance? Bella came to the marriage with almost nothing, her dowry was severely depleted."
Cormac gave him a knowing look. "Tsk tsk, Monk. 'Tis a good thing I ran into ye then."
"Shadow, if ye dinnae stop beating about the bush I'm going to hurt ye!"
"Calm down. Well, it seems Bryce and the old laird had a scheme in place to ensure Bella never wed. Ye see, on her eighteenth birthday, Bella inherited a vast amount of money from her grandda on her ma's side. That money was to be held in safe keeping until she wed."
"What if she never wed?"
"If she did not wed before her thirtieth birthday, the money would transfer to Bryce."
"How did I not ken this?"
"Because ye're not the Shadow," Cormac replied with a grin. "So, when ye wed Bella, Bryce lost his inheritance."
"But I've not even seen this money. Or heard any of this news. I need to see the king immediately and make sure Bryce does not get away with this!" Boyd jumped up ready to ride immediately when Cormac pulled him back down.
"Dinnae fash, Monk. There's no need."
"Are ye daft? He's threatening to take my wife away from me and her inheritance away from her. The king needs to stop this. Bella is mine. That inheritance is rightfully hers. 'Tis not right that all these years she's lived like a pauper," Boyd replied.
Boyd was beginning to panic. He needed to make things right for his wife and save his marriage.
"Calm down, ye fool. Here," Cormac said, as he fished out some parchment from his pouch and handed it to Boyd.
"What is this?"
"'Tis Bryce's petition for your annulment and the details of Bella's inheritance. Apparently, a steward should appear at yer Keep with her funds by the end of the month."
Boyd looked over the parchments and noticed the petition had not been approved or denied by the king and there was correspondence between Bryce and the steward managing Bella's inheritance.
The steward had notified Bryce that funds would be delivered to MacKinnon Keep and Bryce had no claim to it, and Bryce was trying to rally support to stop it.
Boyd frowned in confusion. "Shadow, when did ye get these?"
"About a sennight ago."
"Aye, but how did ye get these?"
"Och, well, I just happened to be raiding and came across them," he replied.
Boyd's face split into a wide grin. He knew then that Shadow had intercepted the documents, foiling Bryce's plans. "Thank ye, Shadow. I owe ye."
"Aye, ye do, and when I come to collect, ye best be ready to pay because my services are not cheap!" Shadow grinned.
Boyd chuckled and nodded. Now, he really needed to get home to his bonnie wife and save his marriage.
"When do ye leave?" Cormac asked with understanding in his eyes.
"Right now," Boyd replied, tossing the flask back to his friend and moving towards his horse. "I've wasted enough time."
"Good," Cormac replied before his expression softened. "Go make peace with yer wife. Ye deserve to be happy, Monk. We all do."
Boyd nodded, then turned to Thamas and gave orders for them to leave immediately.
"We ride home," he announced. "And we dinnae stop until we get there."
His men nodded, clearly relieved to finally be heading home and not riding around the countryside in circles.
***