Page 56 of Rescued By the Highland Warrior
He stormed out of her chambers, slamming the door shut.
He moved quickly from Moira’s chambers through the castle’s main halls with his brow furrowed, and his lips taut. Everything was hitting him all at once, and he couldn’t come up for air.
Suddenly he was stopped in his tracks as he almost collided with Malcolm head-on.
“Laird Fraser,” he remarked, “where are ye off tae in such a hurry?”
“Aye, nowhere,” Roderick said gruffly, straightening his shoulders. “Just business tae attend tae is all. How are ye, Malcolm?”
“As fine as one can be durin’ such difficult times,” he responded with a faint smirk.
“Aye,” Roderick responded, “difficult times indeed.”
There was a certain tension in the air between them, although Roderick chalked it up to his mood.
“An’ how is yer daughter keepin’?” He asked. He couldn’t help it, as soon as he saw Malcolm he was reminded of what his father had written. It haunted him as he gazed upon his weathered and aged face.
“Aye, me Fiona,” he said, his grin widened. “She’s the strongest lass I ken, though I dae worry fer her, as any faither would. She is set to visit me here.”
Roderick felt his guilt growing, and he struggled to meet Malcolm’s gaze. He clenched his fists at his sides, willing himself to maintain his composure.
“I ken,” he said, carefully, “that me faither perhaps would have wanted us tae marry.”
As he spoke, he watched closely for his reaction, but his thoughts drifted to Moira. She wasn’t truly his betrothed, yet the mere act of this conversation felt as a betrayal. The night before had complicated things and seeing her undressed in the bathtub just now had him yearning for things he knew he shouldn’t have been.
“I dinnae disagree with ye there, me laird,” Malcolm said, disrupting his thoughts, as a satisfied look swept across his face.
“Aye,” Roderick responded, disappointed in the man’s lack of reaction.
Then, Malcolm stopped him with a firm hand to his shoulder. The weight of it was steady, and the suddenness of the gesture made Roderick tense. He forced himself to remain still, though every instinct in him urged the opposite.
“Before ye go I thought I might add, me laird, if I may,” he said, his voice low, “that if ye and me Fiona had been betrothed, it is likely we wouldnae have had a food shortage problem this upcoming season.”
Roderick’s spine stiffened. The unspoken threat underlying Malcolm’s words was as clear as day. Everything swirled through his mind: his father’s wishes, his duty to the clan, and Moira.
At first, he felt panic, but it quickly turned to anger as he understood the implication of what Malcolm had said.
“Are ye sayin’ what I think ye’re sayin’ Malcolm?” He asked stiffly. “That ye’ve been withholdin’ supplies?”
Malcolm smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m nae sayin’ anythin’ in particular, me laird. ‘Twas just a consideration. Just that I have always done and will always continue tae dae what is best fer the clan.”
Roderick held Malcolm’s gaze, his jaw tensing as his anger bubbled beneath the surface of his skin. The lack of respect that Malcolm clearly had for him didn’t bother him so much as the audacity he had to dangle the clan’s survival as though it were a bargaining chip.
People were going to starve, and Malcolm was treating the matter like it was nothing more than a simple transaction. The thought made Roderick’s stomach churn with disgust.
He was just about to speak—just about to put Malcolm firmly in his place—when a movement flickered in his periphery.
His chest tightened.
Moira.
She moved from the opposite side of the hall with quick, determined steps, her dark hair swaying with each stride. Even from across the corridor, she captured his attention wholly within the span of a second.
“Laird Fraser,” she said hurriedly. “May I speak wi’ ye privately, please?”
“Aye,” he nodded, the disruption breaking the tension. He cast one last glare at Malcolm, before he turned his attention fully to Moira. “Follow me tae me study,” he said.
As he strode past Malcolm and then Moira, he heard her footsteps trailing close behind. The walk to his study helped ease some of his frustration, but not nearly enough.
