CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Bryce couldn’t sleep. How could he when he’d kissed Lorna as he had? When she had kissed him back like that? Like she was taking her final breath by kissing his mouth? After he returned to his room, and after he finally removed his clothing and laid down to sleep, his eyes just didn’t close. He stared up into the darkness for what seemed like hours, and he thought only of Lorna. He would have to talk to her tomorrow, to make sure that he hadn’t hurt her or made her afraid.
A man never wants to kiss a lass and see her scared face afterward as she runs to escape him. He turned to his side and punched his pillow into place, hoping to get comfortable enough to sleep and forget about it all. For now. Besides that, it was all bad timing because he had two murders to think of. This clan was unsafe, and something was going wrong when the life-givers of the land were ending up dead.
After another hour, Bryce sighed and got up, needing to walk around a bit through the castle. The empty, cold castle might bring him a little peace at least for a few hours. He dressed himself and left the room with a taper, striding quietly through the halls as he thought.
Even though Lorna fought for focus in his mind, he tried to steer his mind to the deaths, trying to find any connections or clues. But the one thing that kept coming back to him was Athol. The man had always been quick to anger, but tonight had been strange. When he’d showed him the painting, Athol’s light mood had changed instantly. He’d even tried to fight him in the hall, assuming that Bryce was going to do something bad to Lorna.
If Lorna hadn’t been there, he might have told Athol that he was interested in her, but then Athol had told him that he was not worthy of Lorna. That was true enough, but he’d also said that Lorna was to marry a Laird, and Bryce was no Laird. He felt his unworthiness keenly, and his hope for winning her hand lessened. But then that kiss.
Focus, lad. There is more tae think of at the moment.
Why had Athol been so protective? What had changed to make him jump to want to fight an old friend? It seemed strange, and Bryce knew that he should speak to him. He would have to, and soon. He prowled through the halls, watching as the shadows cast across the stone walls, dancing as he moved.
He would speak to him now. Now was as good a time as any. Everyone would be asleep, and no one would overhear them. And there was no chance that Bryce would be able to sleep unless he spoke to Athol and got to the bottom of the mystery which niggled at his brain.
Wandering through the halls, his decision strengthening, he found his way to Athol’s door, and knocked softly. To his surprise and delight, he heard a low voice letting him in. He swung open the door and saw Athol sitting at a table on the far wall, a cup of whiskey next to him.
“Lad,” he said, “May I come in?”
“Aye, aye,” Athol said tiredly, and then he laughed. “It seems we have the same habits.”
“Aye,” Bryce nodded and shut the door. Athol stood and met him at the hearth where Bryce sat down.
“Whiskey?” Athol asked, standing by his whiskey bottle.
“Aye, lad. Thank ye.” Athol passed him a glass and sat down across from him in the leather chair and stared at him, dark circles under his eyes. The shadows from the fire only seemed to make it worse.
Bryce drank a bit and tried to form his questions properly. Sighing, he said, “I want tae ask ye something.”
“Och, I figured as much. Is this about Lorna? And the way I treated ye in the hall?”
“Partly. But I wanted tae ken why ye have suddenly grown so protective of her? Ye had nae problem when I first arrived, but once I showed ye that painting and asked questions, yer mood seemed tae change. What is it?” He watched Athol’s eyes shift away from him and look toward the flames.
“I ken. I am sorry for that, lad. I just ken that it is me duty tae help her and tae keep her from becoming meself or Siusan.”
Bryce leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “What do ye mean?”
“The lass kens naething of this, and ye must nae tell her. But Lorna is nae me sister.”
Bryce pulled back, shocked at the news. He set his whiskey glass down as he registered the words. “Nae yer sister. Who is she then?”
“She is me niece.” Athol wasn’t watching him as he spoke but twirling the glass in his hands. “Siusan had an affair with one of the married men in the village. It was all secretive, but then she got pregnant. She had the child out of wedlock, obviously, and she died in childbirth. It was all very sad, and it nearly broke our family, but then Lorna came intae our lives.” Athol smiled, and Bryce found himself smiling too.
Lorna was like a breath of fresh air in a dark, dangerous, cutthroat world. “When we found out that Siusan was pregnant, we kept her inside and pretended that it was actually me mother that was the pregnant one. So, when she died, we made it seem like she had been suffering from a long illness. Lorna was presented tae the clan as the Laird and Lady’s daughter, born late in their lives.”
Bryce touched a finger to his lips. “Lorna kens naething about this?”
“Nae.” Athol finally turned to look at him, and his eyes were wide with fear. “And ye cannae tell her. She will ask questions that we are nae prepared tae answer. She has lived a comfortable, happy life thinking that we are brother and sister, and I want it tae remain that way.”
Bryce furrowed his brow but didn’t answer. He didn’t like the idea of keeping something from the woman he was coming to care for very deeply. He didn’t like the idea of deception at all. "That is why ye are so protective?”
“Aye. I would never want her tae experience the pain and loss that Siusan and we, as her family, experienced. I want only for her happiness, ye ken.” He looked at Bryce for a long time. “I wouldnae want a man tae take advantage.”
“Aye, I understand completely.” He brushed the subject aside, not wanting to speak to Lorna’s brother about his affection for her without even speaking to Lorna. “Although, I must say this. I willnae lie tae her for ye. I willnae outright tell her, but if she asks me directly, then I refuse tae lie. The lass has already experienced enough hardship.”
Athol hesitated, biting his lip as he thought. “Fine then. I suppose that is the best I can get from ye.”
