Page 65 of The Laird's Vengeful Desire
He moved to his command tent, gesturing for Murdoch to follow. Inside, maps covered a rough wooden table, marked with clan territories and potential battle plans. But it was the writing materials that drew Lachlan’s attention – parchment, ink and sealing wax – the perfect weapons for his new strategy, the tools of a different kind of warfare.
“Tell me,” Lachlan said as he settled into his chair, “what dae ye ken about Rhona MacAlpin’s disappearance?”
Murdoch frowned. “Missin’ fer months now. Her clan’s been searchin’ high and low fer her.”
“And they still dinnae ken where she is?”
“Nay. Ian’s kept it quiet. Even most of his own people dinnae ken the truth.”
Lachlan’s fingers drummed against the table.Of course they didnae.Ian was trying to be honorable, protecting her reputation. But his discretion could be twisted and sculpted into something far more sinister, if one knew how.
“So fer almost four months,” Lachlan mused aloud, “the second eldest MacAlpin daughter has been held captive by the Wallaces. It daesnae matter that Ian has only been laird fer weeks, given he didnae get in touch with the family. Four months of… what? Seduction? Coercion? Worse?”
“Me laird?”
“Think about it, Murdoch. How might we interpret the events of those four months? What assumptions might reasonable men make about a bonnie lass kept prisoner by the laird of an opposing clan, nay less?”
Understanding dawned in the older man’s eyes. “Ye mean tae destroy his reputation.”
“I mean tae crush who he is and decimate all he holds dear.” Lachlan reached for a piece of parchment, his mind already composing the letters that would seal Ian Wallace’s fate. “His precious honor, what little remains of his clan’s standin’, his relationship with the Crown… and then of course the lass herself.”
He dipped his quill in the ink with great care, testing its point against the surface of the parchment. The first letter would go to King Charles himself – a concerned report from a loyal subject about disturbing rumors regarding the new Wallace laird.
Yer Majesty,he began, his handwriting neat and respectful.It pains me tae bring troubling news tae yer attention, but loyalty to the Crown compels me tae share with ye disconcerting rumors uncovered relating tae the man ye saw fit tae install as Laird Wallace.
Lachlan paused, considering his words with immaculate care. The accusation had to be subtle, but damning. He had to plant seeds of doubt that would sprout and grow into suspicion, then clarity.
Fer the better part of four months now, the Wallace lairds have held captive a young woman of noble birth – Rhona MacAlpin, second daughter of Laird MacAlpin. What seemingly began as me late cousin Douglas’s crude attempt tae leverage the lady fer a forced marriage with her elder sister, has become, I fear, something far more unseemly since Ian assumed control of the clan. Reports from me most trusted sources suggest that thelass has been subjected tae treatment unbefitting of her station, kept for me cousin’s personal enjoyment.
Lachlan’s smile was cold and menacing as he continued writing. Each word was chosen with the utmost care to imply without stating outright, to suggest impropriety without making specific accusations that could be easily disproven.
However hesitant I may be tae malign a kinsman, me duty tae Yer Majesty and concern fer the lady’s welfare compel me tae speak out. Clan MacAlpin clan remains woefully unaware of their daughter’s fate, believing her tae be lost or dead. Meanwhile, she languishes in me cousin’s castle, subject tae whatever whims he might harbor. Me own men have witnessed disturbing scenes – passionate embraces in castle courtyards that sent the lady fleeing, and marriage proposals that paint a picture of coercion rather than courtship.
“Brilliant, me laird,” Murdoch breathed, reading over his shoulder. “Ye make it sound like he’s keepin’ her as his whore.”
“Exactly,” Lachlan continued writing, laying out a carefully constructed narrative of Ian’s supposed misdeeds. “And when our king investigates, what will he find? A vulnerable young woman, who’s been detained fer months, who’s now clearly intimate with her captor, who responds tae marriage proposals with the confused desperation of a lass who’s lost her honor.”
The true beauty of it was that much of it was technically true. Rhonahadbeen held captive. Shewasgrowing close to Ian.Theyhadkissed before she fled. Lachlan was simply…interpreting those facts in the most dramatic, most damaging light possible.
I fear me cousin’s judgment has been compromised by his attachment tae this young woman. His recent military actions – including a raid he led personally – suggest a man concerned with personal desires rather than clan welfare. The stability of the borderlands may require yer intervention, Yer Majesty. As a loyal kinsman and faithful subject of the Crown, I stand ready tae assist in whatever manner ye deem appropriate.
He finished his letter to the king with a flourish, and moved on to the second – though no less important – piece of correspondence. This one, for the attention of Laird MacAlpin.
Me laird,he wrote, adopting a tone of grave concern and reluctant duty.Regretfully, word has reached me ears of yer continued search fer yer daughter, Lady Rhona. It grieves me deeply tae be the bearer of such disturbing news, but I feel honor-bound tae inform ye of yer daughter’s fate.
This letter was easier to write, fueled by righteous indignation on behalf of a wronged father. Lachlan spun a wonderful tale of Ian’s predatory inclinations, of a young woman taken advantage of in her vulnerability, of a clan’s honor being disrespected and trampled by a man unworthy of his position.
She lives. Though I fear her circumstances are such that ye may pray she had perished with her honor intact. Me wretched cousin has kept her as his consort after many months of captivity, claiming political necessity while indulging his basernature. The attachment between them has seemingly grown disturbingly intimate, as me own men can attest.
“The MacAlpins will call fer blood,” Murdoch observed.
“Och, aye. And they’ll have the support of clan MacPherson in getting it.” Lachlan signed the second letter with another flourish. “But first, they’ll need allies… men who understand the gravity of Ian’s crimes against both clan honor and royal authority.”
He pulled out a third piece of parchment. This one was for his other cousins, the minor lairds and clan leaders who’d been passed over when the king chose Ian. Men who – much like Lachlan himself – nursed their own grievances against the Wallace succession.
As he wrote, Lachlan could already see the chain of events his letters would set in motion. The king would surely demand answers. The MacAlpins – now strengthened by their allegiance with Ciaran MacCraith – would demand justice under the guise of vengeance. His cousins would demand a new successor. And in the chaos that followed…
“Me laird,” Murdoch asked quietly, “what of the lass herself? If yer plan succeeds, if Ian fails… what becomes of her?”
