Page 83 of Her Reluctant Highlander Husband

Lach held out a letter. “Take this to the laird.”

“Ah, so I’m a messenger now?” Bryce knew better than to snap at Lach. He wasn’t angry with the laird. And he didn’t mind taking the letter with him. His cousin was simply an easy target.

“I’m hoping you’ll be able to sway your father to help talk the laird into helping us. Lairds listen to their chiefs.”

Bryce snorted. “Ye don’t listen to a bloody thing I say.”

“Not true. I listen. I just don’t always agree with what you say. Thus the reason for the letter.” He gave Bryce a swat on the shoulder.

The truth was, Bryce and Lach rarely agreed on how to handle things. But it wasn’t Bryce’s clan to run.

“You’ll see this done?” Lach lifted a brow in question.

Bryce felt a pinch of insult. The laird knew better than to question his loyalty or obedience. Bryce might not always agree or appreciate his orders, but he always—always—carried them through. Even if it had him married when he didn’t want it.

A familiar pain tightened in his chest at the thought of Dorie. He swallowed and shook it off, grateful he’d managed to keep enough distance from her that the pain hadn’t grown into what he’d felt after Maggie’s death. He was right to sign the annulment. It was the best thing for Dorie. For both of them.

“You know I’ll do what you ask.” Bryce allowed his irritation to color his tone.

“Just not without a comment about it.” Lach smirked and Bryce had to admit he was right about that.

Bryce smiled. “It’s my way. You’d wonder what was wrong with me if I didn’t push you on such matters.”

Lach was younger, after all. Growing up, Bryce had always been the one in charge of their adventures. And the one responsible for the punishment when those adventures didn’t work out so well.

Lach nodded. “Godspeed, and know I’ll stand by whatever decision you make.”

Bryce’s eyes narrowed on his cousin. What did he mean by that? There was no decision Bryce needed to make. He would go to the Campbells and ask for men. He’d either manage an agreement or he wouldn’t.

The choice wasn’t up to him.

Not many choices were.

…

Since the choice was up to her, Dorie decided Lord Reginald Truman was never going to be her new husband. He was nice enough, and even handsome, but he didn’t make her heart flutter, and she was rather relieved when he walked off to speak to someone else.

She was grateful that until the annulment arrived from Scotland, she wasn’t free to marry anyway.

She tried her best to seem impressed by all the sights in London, but in truth, she felt suffocated in the city. The number of people was overwhelming, and she just wanted to take a walk and toss stones into a loch. Not that she could do that in Durham, either, but the country estate was closer to the Highlands than the city.

“We’re going back to Durham,” her father announced one evening as they were waiting to leave for the theater. Dorie had just reached the door and paused outside in the hall to prepare herself. It wouldn’t do to be overly excited. He might think she didn’t appreciate his efforts.

It didn’t change the fact that she was overcome with relief at this news. A wide smile pulled up on her lips.

“So soon?” Harriet asked in surprise from inside the parlor.

“Yes. In truth, we shouldn’t have come at all. It was premature to bring her here for a match. Not when we haven’t received the signed annulment from Scotland.”

Harriet pushed out a breath. “Do you really think he’ll sign it? Dorie is such a wonderful young woman. I can’t imagine anyone letting her get away.”

“I have no doubt that when the man gets his head out of his arse he will regret his decision. But he is likely too bloody stubborn to do anything about it.”

“I don’t think Dorie is going to get over him. She hasn’t shown the slightest interest in anyone she’s met so far.”

“Then we’ll just have to try harder. The Duke of Sheffield will be in residence when we return. Perhaps his son.”

“He’s just eighteen, Dorien. Your daughter won’t want a boy after she’s been married to a man.”