Page 27 of His Forgotten Highland Bride

Ronan wanted to ask the man if he, with his ample belly, couldn’t spare a single loaf of bread for a hungry child, but he also heard Ewan’s words. Where would the line be drawn if such things were allowed? Didn’t the baker deserve to be compensated? Making bread was his livelihood, after all. But he’d not take a boy’s hand for trying to feed himself. There was no good answer. He needed more time to think.

“Fifty lashes, then.” Ewan offered another equally distasteful alternative. This child would not manage fifty lashes. The baker nodded his approval of this option.

Ronan’s mind began to buzz from one option to the next. A night in the dungeon might satisfy the salivating wolves while ensuring the boy had a fit meal. But how could he condemn a poor boy to a night in the dark? And what other prisoners were down there? No. That won’t do, but it was undoubtedly better than a beating or losing a hand and perhaps having the boy work off the debt. But looking at the man who had forced him here, it didn’t seem likely he would be kind to the child.

Ronan remained silent despite all the noise going on in his head. He must say something. He must act. It was his duty.

“I—I—” But as he opened his mouth to try to do more than stutter, his wife rushed up to the dais.

“This clan does not whip hungry children. The auld laird would not stand for such a thing, nor will I.” Brenna fairly sparked with her fury as she glared at him, or perhaps she was glaring at Ewan next to him.

“You are the laird. Ye must not let a lass overthrow your ruling.”

Ronan didn’t know what to say, for he agreed with his wife. He couldn’t imagine his grandsire allowing a wee lad to be thrashed, let alone doing the thrashing himself.

“Where are your parents, lad?” she asked, her voice softening as she placed a hand on the boy’s slim shoulders.

The boy shook his head. This child was alone. He was fending for himself to fill his belly. Ronan remembered the children who moved with the armies, looking for scraps. He was left behind by men who had died and women who’d left them to find better prospects alone. How was it fair that Ronan had two families when this child had none?

“Go to the kitchen and tell them Lady Grant has sent you. They will give you a meal.”

“This is unacceptable, nephew. Stop this before you lose all control.”

The people in the hall seemed to stare at Ronan, waiting for him to do something. But he felt the same paralyzing fear on the battlefield after making the wrong choice. He didn’t know what to do. Every option seemed wrong. Ronan’s words stuck in his throat along with the lump of anxiety he couldn’t swallow down as Brenna dug about in the pouch tied at her waist.

She held out a few coins. “This is payment enough for the loaf, is it not?” she asked.

“It is, Lady Grant, but—”

“Then our business is done. You may go.”

The baker looked up at Ronan briefly before dipping his head to Brenna and retreating. She was handling things; he could only be grateful for her decisiveness and compassion.

“Erek?” Brenna called, and a tall man came closer.

“Aye, my lady?”

“It has been three years since your wee angel was taken from you and Mary.”

“Yes, and I know what you are thinking, but I beg ye—”

“No other child will fill the hole in your hearts she left. But this child needs a home and people who can take care of him and raise him to be an honorable man. I ask you only to take him for the night so that I might find another arrangement.”

“Aye, my lady. For the night only.”

She nodded, and even in Ronan’s state, he could tell, as his wife did, that this Erek would not turn the boy out.

“She has made a mockery of ye, nephew,” Ewan said.

“Why? Because she found a way to solve the issue without bloodshed? Isn’t that what a leader should do? Spare his people any pain when possible?”

“A leader provides justice.”

“And what justice is there for a child who did nothing to deserve such a fate as being orphaned? His options are to turn to crime rather than starve to death. What of that justice, uncle?”

Ewan laughed with a sneer. “I would not have thought war could weaken a man, but I was wrong.”

He shoved back his chair before standing and heading for the door.