Page 106 of The Laird’s Sinful Secret

Every muscle in Euan’s body went rigid. “What?”

“Ye heard me.” Archibald’s blade removed another MacKenzie warrior’s head with almost casual brutality. “The bastard’s leading his forces personally. And from what I’m seeing, he’s heading this direction.”

Moyra’s blood turned to ice. Her father. Here. Coming for her personally instead of sending his men to do the killing.

Which meant he wanted to watch her die.

The remaining MacKenzie warriors in the courtyard fell quickly—caught between three Covenant brothers and with nowhere to run, they had no chance. When the last body hit the floor, Euan turned to Moyra, his hands finding her shoulders.

“Are ye hurt?” His voice came rough with barely controlled panic. “Did they⁠—”

“I’m fine. Bruised, but fine.” She touched his face, needing the contact. “Catriona—she’s hurt, we need tae⁠—”

“I’ll see tae her,” Calum promised, already moving toward the fallen maid. “Ye two need tae get somewhere safer. If Keith’s coming⁠—”

A slow clap echoed through the courtyard.

“How touching.” The voice made Moyra’s skin crawl. “Me daughter, playing at being a Highland wife. Did ye truly think this charade would work?”

Keith MacKenzie stepped through the breach, flanked by a dozen warriors who moved with the professional competence of experienced killers. He was tall and imposing, dark hair streaked with grey, those calculating hazel eyes that had once looked at her with something resembling affection but now held only cold assessment.

“Faither.” The word tasted like poison.

“Daughter.” His gaze traveled over her, taking in her disheveled state, the bruise forming on her jaw, the way she stood close to Euan. Something dark flickered across his features. “Ye look well. Better than ye deserve, considering the trouble ye’ve caused.”

“The trouble I’ve caused?” Fury burned through her shock. “Ye’re the one who mounted an invasion! Ye’re the one who⁠—”

“Who did what needed tae be done.” Keith’s voice remained calm, reasonable. The same tone he’d used to explain why he was sending her to the priory, why her presence was inconvenient. “Ye were always too soft, Moyra. Too emotional. Yer maither’s daughter in the worst ways.”

“Dinnae ye dare speak of me maither. She was worth ten of ye.”

“She was weak.” Keith stepped closer, his warriors moving with him. “Just like ye. Which is why ye had tae be removed from the equation. Can ye imagine me surprise when I learned ye’d married MacLeod? When me carefully laid plans were disrupted by yer sentimental foolishness?”

“Carefully laid plans.” Understanding crashed through her. “The attack on the road tae the priory. The English soldiers. That was ye. Ye arranged fer me tae be taken tae Norham.”

“Of course I did.” He said it like it was obvious. “The priory would have been too easy tae retrieve ye from. But an English dungeon? Perfect. Far enough away that rescue was unlikely. And if ye happened tae die there—well, tragic, but these things happen in war.”

Euan’s sword lifted, pointing directly at Keith’s throat. “Ye’re a monster.”

“I’m a pragmatist.” Keith’s gaze shifted to Euan, and Moyra saw calculation there. “Ye understand, surely? A daughter who represented the old ways, who might challenge me authority, who could become a rallying point fer dissent. She had tae be eliminated. Just as ye have tae be eliminated now.”

“Try it.” Euan’s voice dropped to something dangerous. “Try tae touch her, and I’ll carve yer heart from yer chest.”

“Bold words from a man surrounded by me warriors.” Keith gestured, and more MacKenzie soldiers appeared—filing through the breach, positioning themselves at strategic points. Within seconds, they were outnumbered three to one. “But I dinnae need tae fight ye personally. That’s what mercenaries are fer.”

His warriors moved forward as one.

Euan, Calum, and Archibald formed a protective triangle around Moyra, their blades raised, their bodies blocking every approach. But even their combined skill couldn’t hold against those numbers indefinitely.

“Moyra!” Keith’s voice cut through the clash of steel. “This ends when ye step forward. Let yer husband live. Let these fools survive. Just come with me, and I’ll call off the attack.”

“Dinnae listen tae him!” Euan’s blade deflected two strikes simultaneously. “He’ll kill us all anyway!”

“He’s right.” Keith’s smile held no warmth. “But at least this way, some of them might survive long enough fer burial. What’s it tae be, daughter? Will ye sacrifice yerself fer these people? Or will ye let them die because ye’re too selfish tae accept yer fate?”

Moyra looked at Euan—at his face set in grim determination, at the way he fought with everything he had to keep enemies away from her. Looked at Calum and Archibald, risking their lives for a woman they barely knew. Looked at the bodies already littering the courtyard, at good people dead because her father was a monster.

She couldn’t let this continue.

“All right.” Her voice came steadier than she felt. “All right, I’ll⁠—”

“The hell ye will!” Euan spun toward her, leaving his back exposed for a fatal heartbeat. “Moyra, dinnae⁠—”

The blade that should have taken him through the spine was deflected by Archibald’s desperate parry. But the distraction cost them—MacKenzie warriors surged forward, overwhelming their defense through sheer numbers. Calum went down under three attackers. Archibald’s blade shattered against another warrior’s helm.

And Keith MacKenzie stepped forward, a dagger appearing in his hand, his gaze locked on Moyra with the cold focus of a man about to remove an inconvenience.

“It’s time tae end this,” he said quietly. “Past time, really. Ye should have died in that dungeon, daughter. But I can rectify that mistake now.”

He lunged.