CHAPTER SEVEN
Blake scowled as his horse approached the looming walls of Murray Keep. Returning never felt like coming home, but now he wanted nothing more than to kick his horse into a gallop and ride as fast as he could in the other direction. He might have done it had he not seen the two figures waiting by the gates, watching their approach.
Luke Branson was a slender man with brown hair and brown eyes, and a well-known grudge against him. Blake knew that Luke had been well-regarded by Laird Murray before his own arrival, and that the older warrior fancied himself Oran’s primary advisor and resented the fact that Blake had supplanted him as Oran’s second-in-command. More than once, Luke had called him out. Blake had always emerged from their scuffles victorious, and he knew it only made Luke’s resentment worse.
The irony of it was that if there was one thing Luke had agreed with him on, it had been that Oran’s determination to marry Reyna was a poor idea. The difference was that Luke’s objections had primarily involved his dissatisfaction at being replaced byan ‘outsider’, and his unwillingness to be further set aside due to a woman’s influence. It was also a fact that, having been overruled, Luke would keep doing whatever he had to in order to fulfill Laird Murray’s wishes, even while he looked for reasons to change the laird’s mind to his advantage. He was a weasel and a toady.
Blake hadn’t wanted Reyna to become Laird Oran’s betrothed and had been willing to accept any other voice on his side, but he didn’t trust Luke’s motivation, or what he might do to use the current situation to his advantage.
The other warrior awaiting them, Preston McReedy, was Luke’s opposite in every way save skill. Where Luke was sullen and sour in temperament, Preston was cheerful and friendly, a jovial man with a warm smile and a good word for almost everyone he met. Where Luke was dull and forgettable with his brown, fade-into-the-background features, Preston was blond-haired and bright eyed. Luke was thin and gave off the impression of a rodent, but Preston was broad-shouldered and sturdy, the type of man you could trust to guard your back or carry you home.
Blake tolerated Luke, and learned from him when he had to, but it was Preston he looked up to and truly respected. Luke had made him wary and sharp-eyed, ever alert for danger, but Preston had been the one to teach him smiles, and how to be a warrior instead of merely a soldier.
As they rode up to the keep gates, Luke greeted them with a scowl and a grunt. “Ye’re late.”
Preston elbowed the other man. “Och, they’re nae that late. It’s scarce been four days since Brutus left.” He gave Reyna a winning smile. “Welcome tae Murray Keep, me lady. I hope Brutus hasnae been living up tae his name.”
“He’s been tolerable, I suppose.” Reyna didn’t look at him as she allowed Preston to help her down from the horse and stepped to the side as Blake swung down from the saddle.
Preston grinned and clapped him on the back in a rough embrace. “Welcome back, Brutus. I’d say we’ve missed yer stone face around here, but Luke’s bid fair tae make up fer yer absence by being twice as dour.”
Together, they pulled Reyna’s packs free, and Preston handed them to Luke. “Here ye go. I ken ye’re eager tae leave Brutus’s presence, and itching tae tell Laird Murray that they’ve returned, so why nae take these tae the lass’s rooms and then tell Laird Oran we’ll be escorting his betrothed tae the great hall as soon as she’s a chance tae freshen up.”
Luke’s scowl deepened, but he did as Preston told him, grabbing the packs with a snarl before he vanished into the keep.
Preston turned to Reyna, a sun-bright smile on his face as he took her hand and bowed over it. “Welcome, lovely lady. ‘Tis a pleasure tae make yer acquaintance. “Me name is Preston McReedy, and if ye need aught and Brutus is annoying ye tae much tae ask him, ye can always ask me.”
Reyna laughed. “Ye’re a charming rogue, aren’t ye?”
“He is.” Blake elbowed his friend in the side. “And he ought tae ken better than tae be flirting with the laird’s promised lass, never mind that he’s a lass o’ his own waiting on him. And Kenzie’ll nae like it tae hear ye’re flirting with other women.”
“Och, now, there’s nae call fer telling tales like that, ye brute.” Preston gave him a look of mock indignation. “I’m only being polite.” He smiled ruefully at Reyna. “Dinnae get me wrong, me lady, ye’re a fair beautiful lass, and if me heart wasnae spoken fer, as well as yer hand, then I’d be first in line tae be courting ye. But as it is, me laird has me honor and loyalty, and me glorious lady Kenzie has me heart, whole and entire.”
The three of them went inside, and Preston waved a servant over. “I need tae have a word with Brutus here, so I’ll ask ye tae go with this lass tae wash off the road dust afore we take ye tae see Laird Murray.”
Reyna offered him a swift, sharp look, and Blake nodded for her to go on. Reyna hesitated a moment longer, then followed the lass down the hall, toward guest quarters where she could wash. As soon as she was gone, Preston dragged him into a side room. “I’d ask ye what’s happened between ye and the little lady fer her tae be watching ye like that, but... there’s news.”
“News?” Blake frowned.
“Aye. From yer cousin.” Preston fished a letter from his sporran and handed it over.
Blake took it with a feeling of trepidation. He had no doubt the letter was genuine because he knew Preston would never have passed it over if it wasn’t. Preston was the only one, besides Laird Oran, who knew who he was. The first year after his arrival at Murray Keep, Blake had gotten drunk, and wound up telling the other warrior the truth. He’d been terrified, once he’d sobered up, what Preston would say. Preston, for his part, had never said a word to anyone else. He had, however, been the one to suggest that Blake write to his cousin and arrange for communications so he would know if conditions had changed.
Blake frowned at the seal. It wasn’t Hutch’s usual wax blob with a crude marking. Instead, the seal bore the imprint of the Sinclair coat of arms. An official letter then, but from who? Who would Hutch have told about his whereabouts?
He broke the seal and unfolded the missive.
Dear Cousin,
The news I have, I give ye with both relief and sorrow, and I suspect ye’ll receive it with the same, or so I hope. First and foremost, I must tell ye, though it grieves me, that me faither is dead, and he did not pass away o’ natural causes. He was poisoned, in the same manner and with the same herbs as yer faither afore him, save that whoever committed the deed used a greater dose o’ the poison, and he died quicker. Mayhap it was less painful as well. I can hope such.
But fer all that I mourn his passing, there is one bit o’ good tae come of it. With his death o’ poison, tis now proven that ye areinnocent in the death o’ yer faither. As soon as I was confirmed as laird, I spoke tae the Elders alongside yer maither and pushed fer the declaration o’ yer innocence, and they agreed that if ye can be found, ye should be told that the accusations against ye have been revoked.
‘Tis time, cousin. Time fer ye tae come home tae us, tae yer clan, and tae the life ye should always have had. Yer maither is anxious tae see ye, tae ken yer well and have ye safe once more within the walls o’ Sinclair Castle.
I ken there’s much tae be addressed, and naught can restore tae us the ten years ye’ve lost tae exile, but even so I ask ye, come home. Then we can begin tae mend things and restore ye tae the honor and reputation ye should never have lost.
I dinnae ken if I will be permitted tae step aside fer ye, after all that’s happened, or even if that’s what ye’d want. But now it is in me power, I ask ye tae return so I might make amends tae ye as best I may.
