He had a family that was waiting with bated breath for him to save the clan.
And he had a woman, a lass that was rapidly becoming someone he cared for that was putting her trust in him—in a liar and a fraud.
“Wot is the secret? Do they have a fount of immortality or something?” Malcolm jeered.
Irvine hung his hands between his legs and told his friend the story that had been shared with him, his words flat. “They have enough funds tae sustain their lives here,” he finished, his heart heavy. “I can offer them nothing that they dinnae already have.”
“Shite,” Malcolm swore, his expression angry. “So ye are going tae lose the quest anyway.”
“Aye,” Irvine stated with a heavy sigh. “I believe that mah great-uncle might have known that I was going tae fail.” He didn’t want to think that his own flesh and blood would want to do something like this, to make certain that Irvine wasn’t going to come back a victor and steal everything that had been his birthright stolen from him, but that was exactly what the old Scot was doing.
Now Irvine had made a mess of this all. He had lied to good people, people that were just trying to make their own lives be something to be proud of. He had fallen for a lass who was going to hate him the moment she found out who he was and what he had done and betrayed her trust, her secrets for his own selfish gains.
He had told her that his parents were dead. That wasn’t something that she was going to take lightly, and it made him feel like a bastard for what he had done.
“I’ve got tae tell them,” he finally said. “I have tae come clean.”
“Are ye insane?” Malcolm exploded. “We will be nothing more than dead Scots then. Ye wilnae have tae worry aboot becoming laird. The only thing ye will rule over will be the worms in the ground where yer body will be buried!”
“I have tae,” Irvine repeated, looking at his friend. “I know ye cannae possibly understand why.”
Malcolm let out a low laugh. “Oh, I know exactly why ye are doing this. I told ye tae stay away from her but ye couldnae, could ye? Now ye will suffer through the heartbreak and lose the lairdship.”
Irvine’s jaw worked, and Malcolm sighed. “I’m sorry,” he finished, his shoulders slumping. “I know ’tis difficult.”
It was difficult to think of what he was going to have to do, but he couldn’t just leave the farm until he completely understood what Kenneth’s plans were, nor did he want to leave the farm without coming clean to Bridget. It was the right thing to do, to clean up the mess he had made, whereas he thought he was helping.
Now he had only hurt himself and others, which wasn’t his intention to do so.
“We have tae protect these people,” he answered.
Malcolm pushed off the bed and toward the door. “I have tae get some air,” he said before leaving Irvine alone with his thoughts.
Four days later
McPearson Castle
Kenneth watched the sun break over the rise of the moors, grinning to himself as it dawned on yet another glorious day. Normally he would be sleeping, but he wanted to watch the dawn break knowing that he had won.
Irvine was not back claiming victory. He had watched his niece and her husband wait in the great hall until after midnight had chimed on the clock, the dejection on their faces evident as they had turned in. They knew that their son had failed, and it was only a matter of time before Kenneth would be named laird.
After all, his supporters had already spread the word that if anyone went against him on this matter, he would see that they no longer took another breath.
Tonight, he would celebrate with his warriors and counselors. The victory was on the horizon, just like the sun was.
Moving away from the window, Kenneth ignored the wench in his bed as he dressed, taking care of how he looked today. He had to look to the disappointed clan as an uncle wrought with a hard decision to make, that the inevitable would be happening. The last thing he needed was the clan rising against him and overthrowing the elders’ decision.
But after today, it wouldn’t matter. Irvine wouldn’t be coming back in time. The farm was over a day’s ride, and those that were watching the road for him had not reported back any movement from his great-nephew.
He had failed like the rest of them.
Still, his time with the farm was not over with. There was a small matter that the land belonged to the McPearson that was going to happen soon. There was something on that land that Kenneth wanted, something that other lairds had not been successful in getting.
And he would do it by force. He knew that the negotiations would fail. Irvine was no longer one that could have garnered Wright’s support than the guard on the wall, and the only way to get what he wanted was to take it the way their ancestors would have done.
He was going to march in there and demand they hand the land over, or blood would be spilled. Kenneth had come across Leathen Wright a time or two and knew that the old Scot wouldn’t give it up. He was going to lose his life on the farm that he loved so well.
But the others, well, time would tell on whether or not they would follow suit.
