Page 73 of Highland Vows of Betrayal

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“Dinnae move, my laird,” Athol said derisively. Noah prepared himself for the fight, but Athol stood on higher ground that surrounded the courtyard. He had the better position and struck the sword from Noah’s grasp before placing the tip of his own broadsword at his chest.

“Nae!” Ian roared through the courtyard as Noah fell still, seconds away from death at the enemy’s hand.

Athol jumped down, pressing his sword to Noah’s chest. “’Twould be so easy tae take yer life now.”

Noah was dimly aware that the fight grew slower. Around him, he knew the soldiers were taking control of the battle. Either the cloaked men were dead or restrained, but no one dared move toward Athol; one wrong move and he would slide that sword straight into Noah’s heart.

“Dinnae kill him!” Ian pleaded from a distance.

“Athol,” Noah muttered darkly, staring down the man who killed his father.

So many years it has been.

“I’m pleased tae see ye have nae forgotten me.” He raised his chin higher. He was older, more gaunt in the face, but he had the same dark evil eyes Noah stared at in the dungeon when they’d arrested him for the murder of Laird Chattan. He’d changed some over the years he’d been gone.

“Unlikely I’d forget ye,” Noah spat, not disguising his hatred of the man before him. “Ye should have died hanging from a noose.” Athol’s smug grin faltered.

“Yer mother didnae think so, did she?” Athol’s taunt sickened Noah.

I hate tae hear him speak of that woman.

“Did ye love her at all, I wonder? Or did ye just enjoy manipulating the lady of the clan?”

“Ye think I enjoyed killing yer father? Aye, I willnae deny it.” Athol stepped closer, his sword at the ready. He was geared up, ready to drive the weapon into Noah’s heart.

“And now ye are back,” Noah murmured. Suddenly, he understood everything. The attack in the forest and the poisoning. Somehow Athol was behind it all. “The poison…”

“A friend in the castle dropped a little something in yer goblet,” Athol said with satisfaction. “I made some good acquaintances working for yer father.”

“Are yer here tae take vengeance?” Noah concluded, “because I sentenced ye tae death and ye’ve been forced tae live on the lam?”

“Ye’ll find I’ve had a better life than ye thought.” Athol’s smile returned. “I have been at the tavern, just under yer nose, silly lad. I spent many years there, caring for my adopted daughter. So imagine my surprise when she disappeared, and I tracked her all the way here. To marry ye.”

Noah turned in surprise. Jerking his head to the side, he saw Ian standing a short distance away. He was the only one close enough to hear what was said. His face had paled with equal alarm.

Scarlett. He adopted her?

It didn’t make sense to Noah. If she was adopted by Athol, how could her sister be Lady Eloise? A woman high born and raised in a grand manor? None of it made sense.

“Ye sent her here?” Noah hissed. “Did ye?”

“Nay.” Athol shook his head. “It seemed Scarlett found her own way here. From what I hear, ye’re rather fond of my adopted daughter, my laird. Shall I tell ye what woman ye are fond of? She is nothing more than a tavern girl, a girl I was given in a forest one night by her mother who didnae want her. I felt so sorry for her, left all alone in the world, that I took her in. Aye, did ye hear that? The Laird of the Chattan fallen for a tavern girl.”

Noah didn’t know what to think. Anger and repulsion rose within him, all directed at Athol. The fact she was a tavern girl suddenly made sense. How many times had he seen her tidy things up so neatly? Of course, she was used to a life of service! And what of her habit of serving mead at the feasting table? She did it easily, never once questioning whether she should, not once.

The way she rides…

He pictured her on her mount, riding as any villager might. And the way she threw knives!

Taverns are dangerous places. Did she learn tae throw knives tae protect herself?

“What do ye want, Athol?” Ian’s angry question brought Noah’s mind back to the moment. “Why are ye here?”

“Tae finish what started all those years ago.” Athol’s lip curled spitefully as he stared at Noah, never once looking away. “Ye are the son she bore, for him. The firstborn son, yer father’s legacy.”

“Ye couldnae bear that?” Noah asked. “That she was married tae another man? She hardly cared for my father. Ye proved that.”