It wasn’t until the last tenant had left the caves before Bridget’s shoulders slumped. “He’s not here,” she said quietly, a sob escaping her throat.
Irvine walked over and pulled her into his arms, feeling the wetness of her tears through his tunic. “Shh, ’tis going tae be alright, lass.”
“How can ye say that!” she shouted, beating against his chest with her fists. “I should have never left his side! I should have kept him safe!”
“If they took him,” Irvine told her, his heart aching at the pain in her voice, “he is at McPearson Castle. I dinnae think that mah great-uncle will kill him before he finds the coin on this farm.”
Bridget lifted her head and met his gaze with her tear-stained one. “He will never tell.”
Irvine’s jaw worked. While he knew her words were true, there was another matter that they needed to discuss, one that had to do with their future and that of the farm.
“Mah great-uncle wilnae stop until he’s destroyed this farm,” he told her, the words bitter on his tongue. “And I cannae stop him unless I have something that the clan wants.”
“I’m not giving ye the coin,” she stated angrily, pushing at his chest until he was forced to let her go.
“I dinnae want the coin,” he shot back, upset that she would even think that he wished to take what belonged to them. “I want us tae come up with a plan tae beat mah great-uncle or yer farm and yer tenants will never have any peace.”
Bridget sighed, tears still glimmering in her eyes. “I just want mah da back.”
“I know,” Irvine replied evenly. “And I will get him back. I swear it tae ye, Bridget. Ye have mah word as future laird.”
She eyed him, distrust flickering over her lovely face. “So ye are meant tae be the future laird?”
“Aye,” he said, figuring there was no reason to hide it from her now. “’Tis mah birthright, wot my great-aunt wanted for me. And mah uncle, he manipulated me into thinking that I could win a bloody quest and take it back.” The next time he saw his great-uncle Kenneth, he would have to fight to not run his sword through his gut at the hurt and pain he had caused in this place.
“And ye dinnae want this land?”
Irvine shook his head. “I dinnae want yer land, Bridget. Wot I want is for ye tae be safe, for the tenants tae be safe. I dinnae care tae be yer leader but yer ally, someone ye can call upon tae stop things like this battle.” He meant every word. He wanted to help them, not rule them. Irvine cared not that they wanted to be independent in their lives.
He just didn’t want to see them suffering as they were now. What would have happened if he and Malcolm had not come back when they did?
The loss would have been devastating.
“Mah da,” she finally said after a moment. “He will be hard tae get on tae yer side.”
“Aye, I know that,” Irvine said. “And I’m willing tae work on gaining his trust, but I need tae defeat mah great-uncle and quickly.” He didn’t know what kind of support that the “new” laird was gaining or if there was any cause to even fight him, but Irvine knew he had to give it a try.
If he didn’t, then all would be lost.
Bridget looked at him. “What did ye have in mind?”
“I need for ye tae call the rest of the tenants together,” he said, “and ask them tae give revenue tae the McPearson clan.” It was the only way that Irvine would be able to go up against his great-uncle. He would secure what the clan wanted most, what they craved, which was the funds to keep supporting their allies and strengthening their forces. They wouldn’t be able to turn that down.
Her mouth worked. “I dinnae like it.”
Irvine dared to reach out and grasp her upper arms lightly. “Och, I know, lass, but ’tis the only way tae get yer da back. I cannae beat mah great-uncle without it. The elders will never accept me as laird over him. He’s already inserted his influence over them, and this is the only way for them tae doubt his position.” Once Irvine ensured that the elders had some doubt, then he could turn the tides. He just knew it.
Her eyes stared at him for a long minute. “Fine,” she stated. “But if this is some sort of ploy tae get the coin that rightfully belongs tae this farm, then I will gut ye, Irvine.”
His name on her lips was like heaven to him. How long had he waited for her to know who he was truly?
Far too long.
“I doubt ye can do it with yer rake, lass,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood.
Bridget shot him a look. “Dinnae push yer luck, Scot. I’m still debating on whether or not tae do so.”
Irvine chuckled. While her words were vicious, there was no heat to them, and he knew that she was on the path to forgiving him for lying to her, at least.
