“What is it now?” he asked. Better to head off trouble.
“Before Dorien left, he offered to send men to aid in the takeover of Baehaven. As you can imagine, he has his own reasons to make sure the laird falls.”
Bryce’s eyes went wide at this news. He knew the viscount would be happy to put an end to the McCurdy who’d killed the woman he’d loved. Not that he needed a good reason. If he was willing to give help, they’d surely take it. Before Bryce could say anything, Lach put up his hand to halt any questions.
“I didn’t tell you and Cam because I wasn’t certain if he would come through, and it didn’t change our plans. I still want the Fletchers, Campbells, and Stewarts next to us when we overtake the McCurdys. It will show the rest of the clans we have the support of others, and ensure no one challenges us after we take Baehaven.”
“How many men does Sutherland offer?” Cam asked.
Bryce only wanted to know if there was news of Dorie and if she was well.
“Enough to make the difference between facing a battle and facing their surrender.”
Surrender meant no risk of spilling MacKinlay blood, something Lachlan had fretted over all this time. This was the answer to moving on and finishing this once and for all.
But it was clear something was the matter. Lach still looked anxious. Sutherland had proven himself a friend, so Bryce wasn’t sure why Lach would delay.
“What is it you’re not telling us?” Bryce asked.
“I’ve gotten word from Dorien. His men can leave England within the month.”
“That’s good news,” Cam said. “Why do you look so angry about it?”
“There’s a condition.”
“Of course there is.” Bryce tossed up his arms. “The bloody English have conditions for everything.”
“So do the Scots,” Cam reminded him with a shrug. “What is his condition?”
“He sent a copy of the annulment. Bryce must sign it, send it back, and promise never to see Dorie again.”
“That doesna seem like much of a condition.” Cam looked at Bryce. “You haven’t seen the lass since she left, and you haven’t seemed worried over it. You’ll be free. Back to the way you were before she arrived and you had to marry her. It’s just what you’d hoped for.”
Aye. It was what he’d hoped for. So why wasn’t he ripping the papers out of Lach’s hand and signing them? He spared himself a moment of sadness. Receiving the annulment meant Dorie wasn’t with child. That should be good news as well…so why did he wish he could hold her?
Because she had always been sad each time her courses came. She’d not said anything, but he had known she was disappointed while he’d only been relieved.
But this time he wasn’t relieved. For it meant she wasn’t coming back.
“We’re sure there’s no way he can double-cross us?” Bryce asked Lach.
“I’ve read through his agreement and it’s quite clear. The only condition is for you to stay out of England.”
Bryce nodded and reached for the documents, but Lach pulled them out of his reach. “You’ll not sign them today. Think it over and we can discuss it tomorrow.”
“What’s there to discuss? Cam’s right, I never wanted the marriage in the first place. I have no reason to go to England, so why not sign it and have it done with? It will take care of all our problems.”
“I understand it will take care of our problems with the McCurdy, but I want to make sure I’m not creating other problems.”
“What other problems?” Bryce didn’t want to talk about this. He just wanted to sign the bloody papers and go on with his miserable life.
“Like ruining my war chief’s chance to find happiness again.”
Bryce snorted and left the hall. There would be no changing Lachlan’s mind. Bryce would have to wait until the next day to be done with it. In the bailey, he sat on the steps and ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t need time to think. He’d been a husband to Maggie and he hadn’t wanted to marry another. How many times did he need to say it?
This annulment was exactly what he needed to put an end to his thoughts of what could happen if Dorie returned. It would ensure he never saw her again. He could be done with all of this unwanted situation with the scratch of a quill across parchment.
Rascal came up and nudged his hand. “Go away.”
Surprisingly enough, the dog listened and lumbered away, leaving Bryce to his unsettled thoughts. It figured the dog would obey when he hadn’t really wanted him to go.
“Razz, come.” The dog stopped and looked back at him as if asking if Bryce actually knew what he wanted. The answer was no. “Here, boy,” he said with more excitement. The big ox ran to him, tongue out and tail wagging. “How are you holding up, lad? Do you still remember her? Do you miss her?”
As if in answer, the dog barked and ran toward the gate. When he saw Bryce wasn’t following, he ran back to sit in front of him, lifted his paw, and scratched it against Bryce’s thigh. He barked again and took off for the gate once more.
“I’m sorry, boy. She’s not coming back. Duty forced me to marry her, and now duty will keep me from ever getting her back.”
It was easy to blame his lack of action on duty to his clan, but he knew the real reason he wasn’t willing to rip up the annulment and head for England. Because if he did, he’d have to admit to the world—and worse, himself—that he missed her and needed her. He’d have to face the fact that he wanted Dorie.
After tossing and turning all night, he was in a poor mood when he entered the hall for the morning meal.
“Where are the bloody papers? I’ll sign them now and be done with it,” he snapped without even bothering to wish anyone a good morning. Kenna frowned when Lach shrugged.
“Very well. They’re in my study. We’ll take care of it after we eat.”
“I’d rather do it now. I don’t want this ruining my appetite.”
“Fine.” Lach kissed his glaring wife and stepped down from the main table.
They crossed paths with Cam and Mari as they were heading upstairs. Cam kissed his wife and their children and turned to follow behind Lach and Bryce.
In the study, Lach went to his desk and pulled out the papers. Without a word, Bryce stepped up and dipped a quill to sign.
Lach held out his hand to stop him. “Before you do that, I want to be clear that I’m not forcing you to do this. If you want to keep Dorie as your wife and bring her back to Dunardry, I would support you fully, even if it meant we didn’t have the aid of Sutherland’s men.”
Bryce blinked at him. “Is Kenna making you say such things?”
“Nay. Well, in a roundabout way. When I first met Kenna, I didn’t want a wife, either. And even if I could have brought myself to want one, I surely hadn’t wanted a wife like her.”
“We recall,” Bryce said as Cam nodded with a scowl.
“And then I gave her a chance, and she gave me a second chance, and I’ve since realized I wouldn’t want to live without her. She’s made my life happier than I ever imagined.”
“I’m glad for ye, truly. As you may remember, I felt the same way when I married Maggie. And I dinna want to live my life without her, either. But then she died, and I was forced to do just that. I managed to piece together enough bloody parts of my soul to barely be called a man. And then you lashed me to another woman. One who—”
He stepped away to compose himself for a moment, then continued.
“One who also left me. Fortunately, this time I was smart enough to protect myself from falling into the same trap as before. So step aside and let me end this farce of a marriage once and for all.”
But Lach didn’t step aside. In fact, Cam came to stand next to him. There was no way Bryce could get past the giant, let alone both his cousins. Even the dog who had stayed by his side since Dorie left seemed
to side with the other men.
“Please, I beg you, let this be done,” Bryce said in defeat.
Cam reached out and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Maggie was taken from you. You had no say in the matter. If you lose Dorie, it will be because you made it so. I know you were happy with the lass. She made you smile. You deserve to be happy again. You have a choice. Make sure you make the right decision.”
Bryce laughed harshly at his words. Nay, he didn’t deserve to be happy, and he had no choice in anything. His life was far out of his own control. He was nothing but a fluff of a feather caught in a storm. He had no choice but to ride it out.
“What happened with Maggie was a tragedy,” Lach said. “You canna blame yourself. You were called to duty and ye went. Just as any of us would go right now if asked. If they’d fallen ill while you were still at home, it wouldn’t have mattered. They would still be gone.”
“It would have mattered to me. It would have been the difference between saying goodbye, telling them how much I loved them, and living with the fact they died alone thinking I’d abandoned them.”
Cam threw his hands in the air as if giving up on convincing him, then stepped away. Bryce looked Lach in the eyes for a good minute before the other man finally conceded and stepped aside.
With them out of his way, he was able to sign his name.
And with that, he ended his marriage.
Chapter Twenty-Six
After the handful of dinner parties Dorie had attended with her father and stepmother in Durham, she’d thought she was prepared for London.
How wrong she was.
Not only was it intimidating because of the sheer number of people, but the sheer daunting splendor of the city made her feel all the more out of her element. Her father’s house in London was filled with furniture that looked more like art. Her wardrobe was filled to bursting with the latest fashions, and her maids—now there were two—busied themselves for hours with her hair and clothing.
The thing she hated most about being in the city was that her family had only come after making certain she was not carrying Bryce’s child. It had been determined the first month, and the second. But her father wanted to be absolutely certain there were no mishaps before presenting her in London.
And present her he did. From the frequent visitors to their home for dinner or cards, to the endless trips to the theater where inquisitive people came up to be introduced, she was surrounded by people who looked at her as something amusing. They tittered and laughed at her speech to the point she rarely spoke.
It reminded her of the years she’d spent alone in her room unwilling to talk for fear she would say the wrong thing. Her silence now was brought on by a similar apprehension.
She didn’t want to embarrass her father, but she wasn’t sure how to be entertaining. Once she spoke of something funny one of the twins had done earlier in the day, only to receive stares in return. Perhaps she had told the story poorly, for she found their antics hilarious.
Even so, men flocked to her—though she had to think it was more because of the property her father offered as part of a marriage settlement rather than any interest in her as a person.
Her father was very careful in his wording when the subject of her “late” husband came up. Rather than say she was a widow, he merely said she’d lost her husband.
She couldn’t argue with the statement. She had in fact lost Bryce. Not that she’d ever really had him in the first place. But the fact remained, she felt his loss immensely.
Especially when she was introduced to some English nobleman who was clearly not Bryce.
She’d written her husband a dozen letters, though they all sat in her room. She’d not had the courage to send them. She’d promised him freedom and promised herself happiness when she left Dunardry. And she was going to see that at least one of them got what was promised.
It was with this thought that she allowed herself to be primped and polished for a dance where she would spend time with Lord Reginald Truman…who had mentioned an interest in asking her father for her hand.
“Perhaps we should wait a little while longer,” Dorie suggested while smoothing her dress.
“What would we be waiting on, dear?” her stepmother asked as though truly confused.
Had she not been with Dorie every day when she’d asked if there’d been word from Bryce?
“My husband might still change his mind and come for me. I don’t think he’d like to find out I spent the evening at a dance, interacting with a stranger.”
“He is not a stranger. You have been properly introduced. Now, do you remember the steps?”
Her father had spent lord knows how much money for a baroque dance instructor in the hopes of making her seem graceful. Perhaps he thought if he could keep her dancing, the men would look past her Scottishness.
“There.” Her stepmother stepped back to look at her. “You look lovely.”
“Thank ye—you,” she corrected, though she knew she still sounded like a lass from the Highlands. “Might I have a moment alone?”
“Of course. I’ll see you downstairs.” Harriet squeezed her shoulder as she passed, as mothers did naturally. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”
When Dorie was alone, she sat on her bed and tried to gather her courage to move on. She’d been hoping for months that Bryce would come to get her and take her home.
But he wasn’t coming. She had to accept that.
And she wouldn’t meet a man to love her sitting in her room and giving in to her fears. Perhaps Reginald was the answer to her prayers and all she needed to do was give him a chance to win her heart. With a deep breath she brushed a hand over her gown again and left her room.
As she neared the bottom of the stairs she caught her father and stepmother in a quiet argument. Their words sounded like hissing as Harriet informed him of her displeasure. It wasn’t until Dorie heard her name a moment before they turned to look at her that she realized their disagreement was about her.
Her father frowned and turned back to his wife, who nodded encouragingly.
With a deep breath—much like the one she’d taken in her room for courage—her father pasted a strained smile on his face.
“Before we leave, might you have a moment to speak in my study?”
“Aye—I mean, yes, of course.”
The frown deepened. She wasn’t sure if she was making a hack of her attempt to sound more British or if something else was bothering him. She hated to disappoint her father. He’d gone to so much trouble in order to secure her happiness. She hated for him to think he’d failed. Especially because he’d never actually had a fair chance of accomplishing his goal.
“You don’t need to try to change your accent, sweetheart. You’re Scottish, and anyone who is interested in you will have to accept and appreciate that.”
“Yes, Father.”
“And don’t be so accommodating. If you’re upset with me, you should just tell me so. If you don’t care for Reginald, you don’t have to accept his suit, understood?”
“Yes, Father.”
Her acquiescence didn’t seem to please him. The frown remained.
“Please sit,” he said, his words abrupt.
“Have I done something wrong?” she asked immediately, hoping she’d not upset him. She knew him well enough to know he’d not lock her in her room for years, but still, she didn’t want to risk his anger.
“Of course not. I don’t know how you could think such a thing. You’ve been the perfect guest. Not a complaint. Even when your brothers and sisters pester you for hours.”
“They are lovely,” she said, wanting him to know how much she loved her siblings…terrors that they were at times.
“You’ve not hounded me for a single thing. No trinkets or dresses.”
“I don’t need anything,
Papa. You’ve already given me so much. I couldn’t ask for more.” She truly didn’t know what was left to ask for. If he’d tell her, she’d demand it that moment if it took the sad look from his face.
“You didn’t even resist when I hired a dancing instructor, though the fellow seemed a snobbish wretch.”
The man had been unpleasant. He’d looked down his nose at her as if she were a clump of horse dung. But she’d been treated far worse by Wallace, so it was an easy thing to grit her teeth and bear it so she could please her father.
“I don’t understand, Papa. It seems that you wish I were more trouble, when I’ve striven to be the opposite. Why would you want me to complain and fuss?”
“Because,” he practically shouted as he paced and ran his hand through his hair. “If you were just a bit less perfect maybe I wouldn’t feel so horrible for what I’ve done.”
“But what have you done?” she asked as she watched him, his body tense. Whatever it was, she knew it was bad. No one would be this upset over nothing. Had he already accepted Reginald’s proposal before she’d had the chance to consider it? It seemed drastic for a man who had encouraged her to hold out for love.
After a few more laps of the room, her father came to sit next to her.
“I made sure Bryce would never come to London.” He rubbed his temples. “There, I’ve confessed. Why don’t I feel any better?”
Dorie gasped and nearly fell out of her chair. The dizziness only became worse as he told her what he’d done, sending an offer to Lachlan to provide men to take down the McCurdy in exchange for a promise from Bryce never to approach her again. And…requiring the annulment signed and returned.
“Why would you do this?” she asked, her voice not much louder than a whisper.
“I thought it would make it easier for you to heal. To move on with your life. I wanted to be certain he didn’t show up out of selfishness. Loneliness is not the same as love, and I’ll not have him keep you as his wife because he didn’t want to be alone. You deserve love, Dorie. You deserve to live your life with someone the way your mother and I should have lived ours.”
Her Reluctant Highlander Husband (Clan MacKinlay) Page 21