“Pardon?” Heather gaped at him in obvious disbelief, though Owen felt less surprised. The possibility had nagged in the backof his mind for a while, growing louder and louder after their scrape with Elias’ soldiers in Brock Woods.
“Your father… never accepted… the marriage. He hated… your brother for… refusing to leave Edith. It… shamed him, and he gave William… a choice. He asked if… your brother would die for… his wife, and William said that he would,” Brandon wheezed. “Your brother… suspected he was… in danger, but I suppose… he did not truly believe that… your father would kill him.”
“But he did? Ye’re certain?” Owen’s hackles rose at the thought.
Brandon nodded as best he could. “Elias wanted to… teach William a lesson. Wanted to… scare him. He instructed a few… of his men… to badly wound William, but they… injured him more than they were… meant to. As soon as I… suggested your talents, Owen, he saw… an opportunity to cover… what he had done. He knew William… would die in your… care. I suppose he did not imagine that… William might speak to you before he… died.”
“He put the blame on M’Laird to ignite fresh hatred against us Scots?” Sawyer chimed in: his lip curled into a snarl.
Brandon squeezed his eyes shut in pain. “I believe so. He wants… Edith dead, and that… is the simplest way, if fighting… with the Scottish begins again.” He paused for breath. “I heard… this all from Elias’ men. They admitted… it, when they thought… they would kill me, too, but I… escaped.”
“Bastard,” Owen hissed, glancing at Heather. Her expression was blank with shock.
Brandon rallied for a moment. “But that… is not all, Owen.” He huffed out breath after breath, as the color drained from his face. “They are coming. They are… marching here, and they are… less than a day away.”
With that, he fainted.
25
Once the healer had Brandon under his care once more, feeding him herbal brews and medicines to ease his pain, Heather ran from the room. The heat of the fireplace and the sting of Brandon’s revelations were more than she could bear. After all, she had known that her peaceful existence with Owen was too easy to last.
Footsteps echoed down the hall behind her, and it was not long before Owen caught up. He grabbed her gently by the hand, spinning her around to face him.
“Where are ye goin’, love?” he asked somberly. “I ken ye’re strugglin’, but ye cannae go anywhere. If yer faither is marchin’ here, then we must put ye and Edith somewhere safe.”
Heather shook her head. “I will not allow that wretch to frighten me. He can march all he likes; I do not care. I will face him myself, and I will let him know just how much I despise him!”
Her heart burned with anger and sorrow. No matter what a child did, there was no excuse for murder. William had not betrayed anyone or shamed anyone or hurt anyone. He had fallen in love! He had been happy, and their father had killed him for it, as well as breaking Edith’s heart.
“Love, ye cannae go out to face him,” Owen urged. “It’s too dangerous and ye ken what he’s capable of. I wouldn’ae have him hurt ye, as he hurt yer brother.”
Heather held her nerve. “You do not understand, my love. If you could hear my thoughts and feel the rage within me, you would not try to stop me from punishing that bastard.” She swallowed the acid in her throat. “Hekilledmy brother. I do not care if it was an accidental death, or an “education” gone awry. My brother is dead, either way. Not only that, but he tried to haveyoukilled for it.”
“Let me take ye back to yer chamber. We can discuss it when I’ve rallied me men and set everyone to their positions.” She saw the agitation in his handsome face, for he was the one who would have to protect his castle from her father’s forces.
She expelled a harsh breath. “I will go to Edith, instead.”
“As ye prefer, love, but the two of ye must stay where ye are until we ken how we’re goin’ to proceed,” he told her, and she offered a nod of assent. As angry as she was, she did not want to put her beloved in danger, and if she were to run out of the castle to face her father, that certainlywouldput Owen in a risky position.
He interlaced his fingers with hers and walked her back through the maze of hallways and staircases, until they came to Edith’s chambers. Soft singing could be heard from within, so sweet and almost cheerful that Heather felt a tug upon her heart. She did not want to shatter the poor woman’s heart all over again, but the truth needed to be spoken.
“I will return for ye,” Owen said, dipping his head to kiss her. A lingering, slow kiss that served as a reminder of what she stood to lose if she acted rashly.
A few minutes later, Owen broke away and, with an encouraging smile, he headed down the nearest staircase and vanished from sight. All that remained was for Heather to inform Edith of the truth. Something she was not looking forward to.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the chamber door.
“Come in!” called Edith.
The moment Heather stepped into the room, struck by the thick heat of the raging fireplace, Edith seemed to understand that something had changed. Her face fell and her eyes squinted, while her mouth set in a grim line.
“He discovered the culprit, did he nae?” she said, without hesitation.
Heather blinked in surprise. “Pardon?”
“Brandon. He kens who did it, does he nae? I saw him ride in. He didnae look too good, lollin’ half out of the saddle,” Edith explained, beckoning for Heather to come and sit on the edge of the bed. “He wouldn’ae be back in such a state if he hadnae discovered somethin’.”
With a weary sigh, Heather nodded, and began to relay everything she had just heard in the healer’s chambers. It was not an easy explanation to make, and she sensed the tension building within Edith after every blow of truth landed. After all, the grief-stricken woman had only just found out her husband was dead. This just seemed cruel.
