Page 72 of His Forgotten Highland Bride

Chapter Twenty-Six

It was late when Ronan returned to the castle. Soon after his wife had left with her sister, a messenger arrived with news of a woman who reported the laird of the Grants had slept in her cottage the night before.

The woman lived in a village to the north of the castle. And while Ronan knew he hadn’t warmed this woman’s bed, he needed to see if it had been Ewan. He was like an evil mist drifting about. But on meeting the woman and asking if the man she’d spent the night with looked like him, but with dark hair and blue eyes, she’d described the laird as a plump man, short in stature, and with little hair.

Not Ewan, and certainly not the laird of the Grants.

He passed Malcolm as he headed for the stairs. “Is my wife already settled for the night?” he asked the surly guard.

“Nay, she is waiting for you in your study. She asked me to ensure you saw her immediately upon your return.” With a frown, the man gestured toward the stairs.

“Has something happened?”

“We will know soon enough. Pray you choose correctly.”

“Choose?”

“The lady awaits.”

Perhaps Brenna was in pain? He knew she didn’t care for the bitterness of the willow bark tea, but indeed, it was better than hurting. He entered the study expecting to have found her sleeping. He was pleased she’d wanted to wait for him, but it was late.

However, Brenna was awake and hurried toward him, closing the door behind him.

“Are you well?”

“I am…” She shook her head. “I’m not in any pain from my wound, but I am not well.”

She began pacing, and Ronan reached out to take her hand. “What’s amiss?’

“What’s amiss is my sister did not come here to nurse my injury.”

“That is good, as she is horrible at it.”

“She didn’t come to welcome you home, either.”

Ronan was unsure why this upset Brenna so much, but he reassured her quickly. “I don’t need her welcome. In truth, I hardly know her at all.”

“She wishes to change that.”

“What do you mean?”

“She is in your bed—our bed—waiting for you. She wants to be your wife.”

“But you are my wife.”

She smiled slightly. “That is what I said. But she is sure you will want to change that.”

Ronan worried his eyes might dislodge from his head. “And what do you think?”

She let out a breath and threw her hands up. “I think you want me. But then I also remember overhearing your conversation with your grandsire. You didn’t wish to marry me but found my sister bonny. How Hannah was already betrothed, so you were stuck with me instead. And it makes me…”

“Doubt?” He frowned. “Bloody hell.” He had forgotten he’d asked about Brenna’s older, more beautiful sister. Or he’d thought her more beautiful at the time. Now, she was nothing compared to Brenna. “It seems fitting I be forced to feel what you must have felt when I didn’t believe you. At least for a few moments, anyway. Long enough for me to assure you, you are my wife.”

He swallowed. “Even if I wasn’t smitten with you, Hannah reminds me of my mother.” He shivered. “Not that they look alike, but their actions and the way they wield their beauty as a weapon to get their every desire. I don’t want her,” he said. That was the most important thing. “And I’m glad fate interceded, so I didn’t end up with her.”

She nodded. “Very well. I will remove her from our room so we can get ready for bed. I’m quite exhausted.”

Ronan bowed. “I would happily toss her out if you wish it.”