Page 12 of Highlander's Secret Heiress
Alyth
He stood up to look out of the window. It was late autumn, and the last few trees were almost bare, the harvest had almost finished and everywhere fruit, nuts, vegetables, and meat were being salted, dried, pickled and preserved for the harsh days of winter. Soon it would be the festive season, which he and Alyth would normally celebrate together, but the Laird would not celebrate this time. How could he when the light in his life had gone out?
This was normally his favourite time of year, when he could go out onto the tenants’ farms and hear their stories, distribute gifts, and generally reassure them that he would always look after them. However, this year it was different.
Usually Alyth came with him because she had the common touch; she could talk to and bond with anyone, no matter how far up or down the social ladder they were, and the tenants loved her. Now that she would no longer be with him, he felt dispirited and depressed, and he had no idea how he would explain her disappearance.
Presently, there was a firm knock at the door and a manservant ushered Laird Robertson into the room. The two men shook hands, and Laird MacAdams tried to force hisgloomy reflections out of his mind. They must have shown in his face, however, for Robertson frowned at him and said, “Brooding will do you no good at all, my friend. You need to take action. Go out there and find her, for god’s sake!”
Laird MacAdams rounded on the other man, his face a mask of fury. “Do you not think I have tried, Jimmy? My men have been out looking everywhere. No one has seen her,”
“Then you have not been looking hard enough, Colin,” Robertson answered grimly. “Or using the right methods.” He moved in front of the other man and gripped his upper arms, then shook him slightly. “I have had my men looking too, and we have traced her to Carrick’s lands, but after a while we lost her trail.
We need more men. We need them swarming like ants all over the Carrick lands, and even our own estates. We do not know what’s in her mind. She might have gone in a direction we have not thought of exploring.”
Laird MacAdams sat down in a chair by the fire and put his head in his hands, wishing that Robertson would go away and leave him alone.
However, Laird Robertson was not ready to let go so easily.
“Remember when the Carricks tried to conquer this castle? They almost succeeded; they murdered dozens of your guards and even your wife, for god’s sake! They stole some heirlooms from your family that you will likely never get back. They are absolute savages, and they have become so powerful now that they are almost invincible.
Colin, do you not care? Do you not think it’s past time to raise an army against them before they take over all the land from here to the coast? Do you want to see everything you have worked for all these years destroyed by a bunch of barbarians? What do you think Adaira would say?”
He paused for a moment, expecting Laird MacAdams to answer, but he said nothing, merely gazing morosely into the fire.
“If you want my men to join you,” Robertson said. “We will be happy to do so and fight by your side because what is in your best interest is in ours too.”
Colin MacAdams sighed. “I have no wish to go to war, Jimmy. I have seen enough fighting in my life. All I want is for the Carricks to keep their distance, and to get my daughter back.”
Robertson helped himself to a glass of whisky from the carafe on the Laird’s desk. It was a rather rude thing to do, since he had not even asked for permission, but Laird MacAdams was past caring.
“Do you want to lose all your possessions to the Carricks?” Robertson asked.
He sat down opposite MacAdams to look at him, his shrewd eyes passing over the Laird’s face. The MacAdams Clan was one of the wealthiest in the area, except for the Carricks, and Robertson had to make Colin MacAdams see that he was the best chance he had of recovering his daughter.
He had as much to lose as the other Laird did—in fact, he had more. Alyth was a passport to success for him. With her by his side, the possibilities were endless.
By hook or by crook, he was going to bring Alyth MacAdams back and marry her. He knew that she had no wish to be his wife, but he did not care. She would obey her father, and nothing would matter when there was a ring on her finger.
“Colin,” he said. “I think you should post a reward. Perhaps that will bring in some news of her.”
“Do you think I have not already done that?” MacAdams asked furiously. “There have been no sightings of her—none at all.”
Robertson stood up and sighed in frustration. He looked at Colin MacAdams, who was staring miserably into the fire, and said, “You know that the Carricks will be coming for you soon. Peace has lasted for years now, but I doubt it will last for much longer. That is one of the reasons why we have to retrieve Alyth. If the Carricks get hold of her they could use her as a bargaining chip, and you could lose everything, Colin, everything. Your lands, this castle—everything. We must crush them before they can react.”
Laird MacAdams had been in the depths of depression, and the will to persevere in the search for Alyth had left him for a while, but now it came back with a vengeance.
“We start first thing tomorrow,” he said, pouring himself a glass of whisky. “I will find Alyth or die trying!”
5
Once more, Alyth found herself standing looking into Lachlan Carrick’s fierce blue-green eyes as he stood staring down at her as if he wanted to bore a hole in her forehead. She swallowed nervously, but raised her head and held his gaze. She would not let him see how much he frightened her.
Alyth had to tilt her head back to see him properly, since he was so much taller than she was, and this made her angry because she was so small and felt inadequate. Was this how a man was supposed to make a woman respond to him?
No, she decided. He was using his height and strength against her to intimidate her; those were the tactics of a bully, and she had no time for people like that—of either sex. Men used their fists, but more often than not women used words, and they could be as cruel as whiplashes.
However, she was not dealing with a woman now, but with the biggest and most fearsome man she had ever seen—and she hated him. But did she? When she had seen this big, hulking man treating his daughter with such love and tenderness, she realised that no one was altogether bad, not even him.
