She’d done it. She’d enlisted Errol’s help.
Now, she only needed to convince her family to allow her to visit Anna for an extended visit.
That would be easier said than done.
*
He watched froma distance, hoping that the Mackenzie would finish what he’d started and go through with his plans. Ravish the Hart bitch and then slice her throat. He’d gladly watch.
Hell, he would make his way closer to her just so he could see the life ebb out of her eyes.
Biting back the laugh that threatened to escape from his lips, he held himself back and watched, irritated when Errol MacLeod appeared.
The Hart wench would live another day. As would the MacLeod son. He would be harder to deal with. The man was destined to belaird. He was well-trained. A warrior.
All the things he wasn’t.
He’d never been trained in aught. Nay, his da had thought him useless.
He swiped his arm across his nose, wiping the snot that leaked from it. The blooming of all the trees set his nose off every spring season. It was just one more fault to add to his da’s never-ending list of things that were wrong with him.
His brother, older by three years, had been perfect in every way.
The perfect son.
The perfect brother.
The perfect man to continue on ensuring the family secret remained uncovered.
But his brother was no longer here.
Neither was his father.
What would they say now that the possibility of the knowledge of their heritage was at risk of being kenned to both the Hart and MacLeod?
That he was the only one left to keep it secret?
Now that it was all left to the one considered a failure.
“I will be successful,” he murmured, keeping his voice low, even though the pair had traveled far enough away that they couldn’t possibly hear him.
Standing tall, he looked to the path where they’d disappeared afore turning back to make his way home. The unsteady sound of his footsteps an irritating reminder that he would always be lacking. The way he had to drag his left leg along to keep up with his right. The awkward limp it gave him. He remembered the way his father would look at him with disgust. As if he’d somehow brought his afflictions upon himself.
The old man thought he could beat his ailments out of him. “It didnae work for ye, though did it, Da?” He questioned the emptywoods surrounding him. Waited for an answer that he kenned would never come.
Nay. He was the last one standing. The last of a dying family line.
But he would ensure their family secret didn’t come to light.
Chapter Four
MacLeod Keep wassimilar in size to Hartsmoor Castle. It loomed tall and foreboding as the traveling party that escorted Moira for her visit approached.
It took a lot of convincing and begging to her parents for them to allow such a visit. Many messages were sent back and forth betwixt the two clans. Promises were made that no harm would come to Moira and Seema while they visited.
She had no doubt about that. The MacLeod weren’t a cruel clan. And while she didn’t think they and the Harts would ever be allies, they had come to a truce. One of many, of course, but neither clan had attacked the other in recent years.
Anna was waiting in the courtyard when they arrived. A huge smile splitting her face as she clapped her hands excitedly, hopping up and down.
