Donella shot to her feet. “Now, see here, you old goat—”
“Get the job done.” Mungo pointed a gnarled finger at his son. “Ye owe it to yer family’s honor.”
With considerable alacrity, he stormed out. The door slammed, and a key turned in the lock.
“Blast.” She sank into the chair and covered her face. She was cold, tired, and her head was pounding again.
She’d gotten herself into this mess by telling lies all those years ago, and now she’d get herself out of it by telling the truth.
Roddy cautiously approached. “Can I do something for ye, lass?”
“Yes, you can get me out of here.”
“But my da locked the door, ye ken.”
Really, the poor man was hopeless.
Then he brightened. “Can I fetch ye a glass a wine?”
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt. And you wouldn’t happen to have an extra sock or slipper lying about, would you?” She wriggled her stocking foot at him.
Looking concerned, he hurried to pour a goblet of red wine from a pitcher. Then he dug around in a small pack stowed in a corner, and unearthed a pair of thick woolen socks.
“I won’t hurt ye, Donella,” he earnestly said as he returned to her. “I promise.”
“I know.” She thankfully pulled on one of the socks. It was too large and smelled rather musty, but was blessedly warm.
“But my da’s right. Ye betrayed me and dishonored my family. Da just wants to make things right, and I want to do right by ye, too. I still have feelin’s for ye, Donella. Yer the bonniest lass I ever did meet.”
She hated what she had to do. “Please sit, Roddy. We need to talk.”
He perched on the edge of the other chair, looking as boyishly eager as he had ten years ago.
“Roddy, I’m truly sorry I lied about us all those years ago. It was very wrong.”
He tilted his head. “Why did ye tell such a great fib, lass? I knew ye didn’t love Gilbride. Ye loved me.”
She winced. “I didn’t love Alasdair, but I didn’t love you, either. I was mad at Alasdair for running away from me. You were very nice to me, and I appreciated that.”
He blinked. “Ye mean, ye didna have feelin’s for me?”
“Not in the way that you wanted me to. Besides, I was betrothed to Alasdair. For my family’s honor, I could not go back on that vow.”
“But ye did canoodle with me, so ye must like me a little bit. Ye were happy that night, were ye not?” he finished on a hopeful note.
That night hadn’t been terrible. Awkward, yes, and the deed over so quickly it had surprised her. Roddy had been kind, however, and she’d needed that kindness.
But it had been nothing like her experience with Logan. Their time together was imprinted on her body and soul.
“Roddy—”
“Donella, ye have to marry me to set it right, or both our families will be dishonored when the truth comes out. I’ll nae be responsible for that. We’ll get married, just like we should have done all those years ago.”
When he beamed at her, so pleased with his solution, she knew only the blunt truth would serve.
“Roddy, I never wanted to dishonor you or your family, and I will speak to my uncle and try to make amends for what I’ve done to the Murrays. But I cannot marry you.”
“But why not?”
“Because I’m already married.”
Roddy’s expression went completely blank. “Uh, what’s that ye say?”
“I married Logan Kendrick on Boxing Day.”
“Are ye sure?” he asked after an excruciatingly long pause. “Because I heard not a word about any such thing.”
She had to resist the impulse to bash him over the head with the pitcher.
“Of course I’m sure. We decided not to tell anyone because it was, well, very sudden. And my family wished to have a formal betrothal party on Hogmanay, and then a big clan wedding at Blairgal Castle. We didn’t wish to ruin the fun for them.”
He stared at her as if she’d sprouted a writhing pile of snakes from her head. Donella couldn’t blame him. Even to her ears it sounded exceedingly lame.
She and Logan hadn’t set out that day to get married—at least she hadn’t. But Logan’s curricle had somehow ended up in front of a kirk in a nearby village, and somehow he’d convinced her that getting married immediately would be a grand idea. He’d pointed out that it had been her suggestion in the first place, one that would nicely serve to eliminate the fuss and bother of a large wedding later on.
The idea had made a crazy sort of sense at the time. Before she’d had a chance to truly think about it, he’d rustled up the parson, who’d rustled up a few witnesses, and Donella had found herself transformed into Mrs. Logan Kendrick in short order. It wasn’t a wedding across the anvil, but just-barely not.
As soon as they left the kirk, she’d begun to panic. Not about marrying him. The moment when she’d sworn her vows to Logan, she’d felt incandescent with joy. She’d panicked about her family’s reaction, especially her uncle’s. Their families hadn’t even formally announced their betrothal, and yet she and Logan had snuck off like thieves in the night.
Donella had lost her nerve and made Logan promise to keep it a secret until after Hogmanay. Then everything had turned into a complete disaster, which only served her right. If they’d told the truth in the first place, none of this would have happened.
The wages of sin were very unfortunate, indeed.
She braced for Roddy’s fury. God knows she deserved it.
Instead, he simply frowned for several long moments before sighing. “Well, ye did seem taken with Kendrick that day I ran into ye. I suppose it’s nae surprise.”
“You’re not angry?” she cautiously asked.
“Donella, I could never be angry with ye. Yer the nicest, prettiest lass in the world.”
Now she felt like the vilest person in the world. “I’m truly sorry about this, Roddy. And I meant it when I said I would talk to my uncle to try and set things right by you.”
He cut her a lopsided smile. “Dinna fash yerself, lass. To tell ye the truth, it was always my da making the big fuss. I always knew ye were too good for me.”
That choked her up. “I’m sure you’ll find the perfect girl someday, Roddy. In the meantime, we do need to tell your father I’m married.”
Roddy jolted a bit. “Mayhap it would be best if we stayed in here for a while. At least till my da settles down.”
“That is not a good idea. I know my husband is already searching for me. If I don’t get back to Breadie Manor forthwith, there’s no accounting for what might occur.”
“Er . . .” he started.
“Roddy, if you don’t get me home quickly, we will have a clan feud on our hands.”
He looked morose. “Yer right. I keep forgetting that bit.” She rose. “Then let’s go talk to your father.”
He followed her to the door. “Ye’ll explain it to him, won’t ye?”
“Yes, dear. I promise. Now, we need to hurry.”
He gave her a relieved grin and then started banging on the door. “Da, we need to talk to ye. It’s important.”
When they were met by silence, Roddy banged louder. “Da, open the door.”
“Mr. Murray, we need to speak with you,” Donella shouted.
“Have ye done the deed, lad?” Mungo finally yelled back. Roddy grimaced. “Da, I canna do it. It would be a sin, ye ken.”
“What the hell are ye talkin’ about, ye daft fool?”
“He’s talking about the fact that I’m already married,” Donella said. “And if you do not let me out of this room, there will be hell to pay when my husband finds you.”
A key rattled and the door flew open.
“What do ye mean yer already married?” Mungo roared.
Roddy winced. “Och, Da. Yer breakin’ our ears.”
“I’ll break yer head, ye moron. Get out here and explain yerselves.”
Roddy escorted
Donella into the hall, making a wide berth around his father.
Fortunately, someone had lit a fire in the hall’s giant hearth and pulled one of the settles in front of it. Roddy silently urged her to sit.
When his father joined them, Roddy hastily retreated into a dark corner.
Donella couldn’t truly blame him. Mungo was ready to explode.
“Explain yerself, lass,” he snapped.
“As I said, I am already married. My husband will be happy to prove it, once we return to Breadie Manor.”
“And who is this mysterious husband?”
“Logan Kendrick.”
Mungo’s face turned splotchy with rage. “The bastard who shot my men and threw them over the side of the bridge?”
“Sir, please stop shouting,” Donella said. “And might I remind you that those same men attacked us and tried to kidnap me.”
“Because ye shamed my family and my puir lad. I was only trying to put things right.”
“Da, she’s married,” Roddy said. “There’s nothin’ ye—”
“Shut it,” his father snapped. “If ye were half the man ye needed to be, this wouldna happened.”
“Your son is a decent, kindhearted man,” Donella retorted. “Which is more than I can say for you.”
“Then why did ye treat him so badly those years ago, ye stuck-up—”
“Another word, Murray,” a harsh voice interrupted, “and I’ll put a bullet in your head.”
Donella jumped to her feet, overcome with relief. “Logan!”
He stood in the doorway, looking like Zeus in a greatcoat. Instead of thunderbolts, however, he was armed with a pistol, aimed right at Mungo.
Mungo’s men yanked out their pistols and aimed them at Logan.
“Everyone, stop!” Donella shouted. “No guns.”
“Best listen to the lass,” barked another familiar voice.
She spun around again to see Alasdair advance from a dark corner of the hall, his weapon pointed at Roddy.
“I’ve got your son in my sights, Murray,” her cousin said. “If anyone makes a move, I’ll shoot him. So stand your men down.”
Mungo snorted with disgust. “Ye may as well shoot him. The lad’s useless.”
“Da!” Roddy exclaimed.
“Everyone put those blasted weapons down,” Donella ordered. “I’m perfectly safe, and you’re all just making things worse.”
“Get out of the way, love,” Logan said.
He’d lowered his weapon but looked enraged enough to kill both Roddy and Mungo with his bare hands. He stalked across the room. Behind him followed Lord Arnprior and Graeme, both pointing their pistols at Mungo’s henchmen.
Darting around the table, Donella intercepted her husband. “I’m fine, Logan. Truly.”
For a moment, she feared he’d bowl right past her, but he came to a halt. He loomed over her, his breathing fast and harsh as he inspected her face.
“They hurt you,” he ground out.
She rested a hand on his chest. “It’s nothing, I promise.”
Logan swallowed hard, then raised a gloved hand to gently touch her temple. “Your poor head, lass.”
“I bumped it when they hauled me out the window. It was an accident, really. No one meant to hurt me.”
“When Joseph said you’d been hurt, I—” He pulled her into his arms. “I thought I’d lost ye, lass. That would have killed me.”
Donella sank gratefully into his embrace. “Joseph saw that?”
“Aye, that’s how we found you. He followed you out the window, and Graeme figured out the rest.”
She drew back to search his face. “Please tell me Joseph is all right.”
“He’s fine.” Then Logan directed an irate glare at Mungo. “No thanks to you. My boy fell off the back of your bloody carriage. He could have killed himself.”
Donella turned to scowl at Mungo, too. “Really, sir, this nonsense must stop. It’s one thing to kidnap me, but to endanger the life of a little boy—”
“I had no bloody idea there was a bairn on the carriage.” He waved his arms, which brought his pistol back up. “Ye canna blame me for that.”
All the pistols went back up.
“No guns,” Donella again ordered.
Everyone ignored her.
Logan moved her aside. “Blame you, Murray? We’re just getting started.”
“Best stand down, Murray,” Arnprior said in a stern voice. “You won’t be picking a feud with just the Grahams. This is Kendrick business now, too.”
Mungo sneered at the earl but kept his pistol pointed at Logan. “Ask me if I care.”
Fed up, Donella shoved Logan out of the way and marched up to Mungo.
“Christ, Donella,” barked her husband. “Get back—”
She spun and pointed a finger at him. “Stay right there and put down that stupid pistol.”
He gave her a disbelieving look but lowered his weapon.
She turned back to Mungo. “You and the rest of your idiot men will do likewise. If you do not, I’ll report you all to the Glasgow magistrate for kidnapping me. And I will not tolerate any more ridiculous clan feuding.”
When Mungo started to argue, she chopped down a hand. “No, sir. This has to end here.”
“It’s not up to ye, lass,” he barked, “and ye canna just dismiss a matter of honor.”
“Give it up, Donella,” Alasdair said. “There’s no reasoning with the old fool.”
“Shut up, Alasdair.” Then she turned back to Mungo. “Mr. Murray, I am deeply sorry for the shame I brought to your family, especially to Roddy. That was poorly done of me, and I sincerely apologize. But you know this is about more than that. It’s about the bad blood that has been between our families for decades. I will do whatever I can to help resolve your grievance, but the matter is truly between you and my uncle.”
Something like grief and shame flashed through Mungo’s eyes and, for a moment, he looked very frail.
Then he straightened up. “Ye hurt my boy, ye ken.”
“I know, and I truly feel awful about that.”
“Hurt your son? That’s bloody rich,” snorted Alasdair. “You kidnapped my cousin with the clear intention of taking advantage of her and forcing her hand.”
“Nae,” Roddy said earnestly. “Donella is a married woman. I’d never touch a married woman.”
There was yet another fraught pause before Alasdair turned to look at Donella. “Married?”
Lord Arnprior looked at his brother. “Married?”
“Oh, hell,” Logan muttered.
“Ye all could have told us, and saved more than a wee bit of trouble,” Mungo said in a surly tone.
“You’re going to blame this on us?” Alasdair asked with disbelief. “You are a bloody idiot.”
Mungo’s response was predictable. He jabbed a gnarled forefinger into Alasdair’s chest, and the two commenced yelling.
“Stop it right now,” Lord Arnprior thundered. Then he glared at Logan. “I’ll deal with you later, little brother. For now, I will sit down with Mr. Murray and try to resolve this ridiculous situation. If nothing else, we can agree that this unfortunate set of events could have been avoided if you and Donella had told us the truth.”
Donella winced. “I’m sorry. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Logan wrapped an arm around her from behind, pulling her gently against him. “It’s my fault, Nick. I talked her into it.”
“I have no doubt,” his lordship replied. “Now, please take Donella to Braden so he can check her injuries.”
“It’s safe to come in, I take it,” called a sardonic feminine voice from the doorway.
Donella gaped at Alasdair. “You brought Eden with you?”
“She didn’t give me a choice,” he replied in a sour tone.
“Come, lass,” Logan murmured. “Let Braden have a look at your head.”
He steered Donella to one of the wooden settles.
“You’re looking a little
worse for wear, pet,” Eden said as she and Braden joined them. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“It’s just a little bump.”
Braden put his bag down and gave her a kind smile. “Let’s give it a quick check before we leave.”
Logan held Donella’s hand while Braden examined her, asking a few questions. Then the young man cleaned the small cut with a tincture and a soft cloth.
Eden regarded the other menfolk with a jaundiced eye. “Are they going to argue all night?”
“Apparently,” Logan said. “I suggest you ignore them.”
“You there,” she said in an imperious tone to one of Mungo’s men. “Miss Haddon . . . er, Mrs. Kendrick . . . could use a drink. Please bring her a glass of whatever you have there.”
Mungo broke off from his discussion with Arnprior. “Dinna be givin’ my men orders, ye daft Sassenach.”
“And don’t you be insulting my wife,” Alasdair growled.
“Gentlemen, please,” Arnprior said in a long-suffering voice. “If you will stick to the point, we might manage to get home before New Year’s Day.”
“I take it my husband has been causing the usual trouble?” Eden said to Donella in a wry tone.
“What do you think?” Donella replied.
“Is she all right?” Logan anxiously asked Braden.
“She’s fine.” He smiled at Donella. “But if your head is still aching when we get home, I’ll mix up a powder for that.”
“Speaking of that,” Logan started.
He was interrupted by raised voices. Mungo and Alasdair were going at it again, the old man waving his fist in Alasdair’s direction.
Lord Arnprior shook his head in disgust and stalked over to join Logan and Donella’s group.
“You’d best get the ladies home,” he said. “This probably will take all night.”
“Do you want me to knock some sense into my husband’s head first?” Eden asked.
“Best not try,” Logan replied. “He’s gone full Highlander.”
“As has Mungo,” Donella said.
“Yer cousin dishonored my whole family with her lies,” Mungo yelled at Alasdair. “I’ll nae be forgettin’ that.”
“She was just an innocent girl at the time, you barmy old coot,” Alasdair exclaimed, “and your son took advantage of her. I should thrash the moron right now.”
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