Page 9 of In Bed with a Highland Liar

“Look,” he said, pointing up ahead. “There’s the castle.”

Evander followed the path that Aaden’s finger traced into the distance. He hummed softly, taking a good look at the structure, and then turned to look at Aaden once more.

“Impressive, even from here, is it nae?” he said. “It’s even more impressive inside. When I came back home after visitin’ the first time, it seemed like we hardly own anythin’.”

“Och aye. The Stewarts are prosperous.”

Aaden himself hadn’t yet visited the Stewart Clan but he knew enough about them to know that they were both rich and powerful. It was no wonder his uncle wanted the two of them to marry the laird’s daughters. An alliance with the Stewart Clan would be just the thing he needed to strengthen the MacEwans, to bring in more riches and power than ever before.

Still, he couldn’t help but think there was more to the plan. Ruadh could claim Freya was the better option for Evander all he wanted, but the truth of the matter was that he would never relinquish the power that came with marrying the first-born. For all he claimed he would rule from the shadows, Aaden wasn’t fool enough to believe him.

Whatever happens, I must tread carefully. Ruadh always has more planned than he reveals.

“Say, cousin… I never found out why ye had tae leave the castle,” Evander said. For a moment, Aaden feared Evander was trying to dig up the truth, but then he began to doubt he was that cunning. He was probably simply curious, the way he was about many things. “I mean, I ken yer faither was a traitor. Everyone kens that. But ye were only a bairn. Surely, me faither didnae have tae exile ye.”

Aaden couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him, bitter and disbelieving. “Is that what he told ye?”

“What dae ye mean?” Evander asked, a frown settling over his handsome features. “Is that nae what happened?”

There was a split second in which Aaden considered telling Evander the truth. He could imagine the satisfaction of it, the shock on Evander’s face as he realized that they were not only cousins, but also half-brothers; that they shared the same mother and that Ruadh had made him and his father suffer out of jealousy.

Would he support his faither? Would he understand that our maither never loved Ruadh? That Ruadh forced her intae somethin’ she never wanted?

In the years they had spent apart, Aaden couldn’t know if Evander favored his father or his mother. From what he had seen, his relationship with Ruadh was picture-perfect. He had Ruadh’s love, his support, a warmth that he seemed to hold for no one else, but that didn’t mean that he was necessarily estranged from his mother.

In her letters to Aaden, the few he had received from her, she had never once mentioned Evander, though that was perhaps more for Aaden’s sake than anything else.

“It must be the truth if yer faither said so, dinnae ye think?” Aaden said, his tone betraying his true opinion on the matter. “Surely, he wouldnae have lied tae everyone, especially tae ye, his precious wee laddie.”

Evander did not take kindly to his comment. With a scoff, he gave his horse a gentle kick and rode ahead of Aaden, putting plenty of distance between them. For the first time ever since they had left MacEwan Castle, it was blessedly quiet, the only sounds in Aaden’s ears the breeze and the songs of the birds, the soft rustle of leaves. He had begun to fear he would never know such peace again.

As the seconds passed, though, a wave of guilt washed over him as he observed Evander, riding ahead. There was no denying that Aaden was bitter. It was difficult to be anything but, considering his undeserved exile and the years he was forced to spend away from his own mother, while Evander reaped all the benefits of being her legitimate son. It wasn’t his fault, though. For all his flaws, this wasn’t something Evander had caused.

In the end, he was just a boy. A misguided, spoiled boy, even at his twenty-six years of age. Even with only three years separating them, Aaden couldn’t help but feel at least a little responsible for him. Still, he didn’t make an effort to catch up with him or to apologize for his comments. It was better to leave Evander alone, allow him to stew in his anger for a while. Perhaps something would come out of it, after all.

Perhaps it would help lift the veil over his eyes, show him who his father truly was.

CHAPTER FIVE

The great hall of Castle Stewart was filled with suitors from all over the land. There were few assemblies that required the presence of so many important men, Aaden thought, as he and Evander entered the hall ushered in by a servant. The castle, the little he had seen of it, at least, was a testament to the riches of the clan, dark stone rising high as if aiming to touch the clouds. Inside, though, it resembled a home more than a fortress, warm and lived-in, with colorful tapestries covering the walls and large fires burning to keep the chill of the day out.

A deer’s head hung from the far wall of the great hall, undoubtedly hunted by one of the clan’s lairds—perhaps even Thomas Stewart himself. Beneath it, there was a large painting of a man Aaden didn’t recognize, surrounded by more such portraits of men, women, and children depicted in their finest garments. Whether it was a show of wealth or evidence of a loving family, Aaden didn’t know.

Next to him, Evander sighed, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I didnae think there would be so many others here.”

“Uncle did say Laird Stewart had invited the suitors,” Aaden reminded him. “What did ye expect? Every clan wishes tae wed intae Clan Stewart. They’d be fools tae miss this.”

“Aye, I ken that,” Evander said through gritted teeth. “But I dinnae like tae share.”

“Clearly.”

Aaden gave him an amused chuckle as Evander turned to glare at him. It was interesting to see how riled up he got with the tiniest provocation, though it could prove to be a mistake fatal to their mission. Aaden couldn’t allow him to show too much displeasure, especially towards the sisters and their father.

“Ye should be more concerned, cousin,” Evander said, his usual smirk returning, mirth coloring his features. “Ye are the one who has the difficult task. I already ken that Freya wants me, but what will ye dae with yer Snow Lass, who sends all her suitors away?”

“Och, I wouldnae fash about that,” Aaden said, grinning from ear to ear as he turned on his heels and began to walk backwards towards the crowd of men. “Watch an’ learn, cousin.”

Aaden had his own tricks—If there was one thing he knew other than courting women, it was causing chaos. As he walked, he picked his target: a young man with a large build, but not so large that Aaden couldn’t easily take him on if it came to it. He was right in his path and as he reached him, Aaden bumped hard into him with substantial force. Startled, the man swung around and glared at him, clearly expecting an apology.