Page 50 of Taken By the Ruthless Highlander
“Dinnae get me wrong,” Ryder said as he stabbed his fork into the piping hot chicken breast and lifted the huge chunk to his mouth. “’Tis nae just Orella I doubt, but the lot of them. The whole clan has a tendency to be weary of those they dinnae ken. And all they ken about me is…”
He paused as he stared at her. Her eyes were glassy, as if her attention had been caught by something far away.
He cleared his throat, grateful he hadn’t spilled too much. After all, he was just as much of an outsider as she was. And while he may have attempted to kill his father and failed, by the admission of the clan, she did what he couldn’t.
A part of him found the idea thrilling and exhilarating. Almost as if she were challenging his very nature to be better and do better.
“Why are ye lookin’ at me like that?”
Her question pulled him out of his thoughts. He swallowed hard and went back to the food on his plate.
“I’m sorry, I was just wonderin’ what Feya looked like and if she was anythin’ like ye,” he deflected.
The last thing he needed was to divulge anything more incriminating about him and raise suspicions.
“I suppose that depends on who ye ask. Some will say that she looks a bit like me, others will say that she could be my twin, and a few will say she looks like my daughter.”
“Ye miss her,” Ryder remarked as he bit into his chicken.
The garlicky, buttery flavor burst into his mouth, and he briefly closed his eyes. He’d never tasted such a delectable bird in all his life.
“Ye ken, ye’re very skilled in deflection. I thought we were talkin’ about ye here,” Morgana drawled, a smug smile tugging at her lips.
“And here I thought we were talkin’ about yer sister.”
“Nay,” Morgana said. “We were discussin’ why the people dislike ye and the rumors that swirl around ye like cobwebs. Ye are aware of what people are sayin’, are ye nae?”
“What should it matter what anyone says? These people think they have any sway over what I think? Ha! Fools, the lot of them. They cannae see past the ends of their noses.”
“And what of Nathan? He’s on the council too.”
Ryder shifted and slowly lowered his fork to his plate. He dabbed the corners of his lips with his napkin before turning in his chair to glare at her.
“And what do ye ken about the council? What news would ye think to be important?” He leaned back, his eyes narrowing on her. Itwaspossible that the beauty before him was as poisonous as a viper. “What things have Orella whispered in yer ear to turn ye against me?”
“I’m nae against ye,” Morgana answered, her voice calm and steady. “But there are some worryin’ rumors.”
“And ye’re worried about my past, is that it?” Ryder asked as he folded his arms over his chest. “What did I tell ye? Ye dinnae ask me what I was doin’, who I was with, or where I was. Remember? That was the deal we made. Whatever the servants have to say about me, it doesnae matter.”
“What if the clan saw ye in a better light? Have ye ever given them a reason to like ye? One that is clearly all about them?”
Ryder tilted his head. He wasn’t sure he liked the direction she was steering their conversation, but hewouldget to what she really wanted.
“Go on,” he prompted, jerking his head. “If ye’re confident ye can get people to forget the last thirty years and trust me, then I’m all ears.”
“What if we throw a cèilidh? We can invite everyone, and maybe Feya will show up.”
Ryder scratched his beard as he considered her suggestion. It wasn’t a bad idea; it could bring the clan together. But he wasn’t about to tell her that right away, for he enjoyed watching her squirm.
“That sounds like a really good idea,” he said, after a drawn-out pause. “I ken a few families that would be pleased to see me married at last. I’ll leave it to ye to sort it out.”
“Really? Ye dinnae mind? And will I have a limit?” Morgana asked, a smirk curving her lips.
Ryder couldn’t help but feel a tingling in the pit of his stomach. His wife could have asked for the whole world, and he would have done anything to give it to her. Her allure was driving him mad.
“Aye, ye’ll have a limit.”
Morgana’s laughter filled the dining room. It sounded like bells to his ears as he contemplated why he adored watching her and giving her what she wanted. What spell had she cast over him to make him want to bend over backward to please her?
