Page 113 of A Wife for the Highland Villain
“Are ye here to finish the job ye couldnae finish yesterday?” Alasdair spoke over him.
One of the councilmen let out a sharp gasp.
Thomas rose from his chair, fury etched on his face. “What in God’s name are ye saying?”
Alasdair crossed his arms, his gaze steady. “If ye’ve something to confess, now would be the time.”
“Me Laird—” Colm began, confused.
“How dare ye?” Thomas thundered. “How dare ye accuse me of such a thing?”
“Well,” Alasdair snapped, “all evidence points to ye. In truth, it seems to point to all of ye.” He turned, his voice carrying through the hall.
The councilmen’s eyes remained on him, but he didn’t care. Not anymore.
Not when Lily’s life was hanging in the balance and he didn’t even know where she was.
“Me Laird, I really think—” Finn started.
“So if any man here has something to say, now’s the time to say it!” Alasdair shouted, his fist slamming into the table and rattling the cups.
Colm’s face paled. “Me Laird, I beg yer pardon, but every man here, including yer uncle, has wished only the best for ye and yer wife.”
“Aye,” another councilman chimed in. “We called for a meeting to ask about her alliances. We cannae wish her dead. Since we learned of her, we have stood behind ye.”
“Oh, have ye?” Alasdair’s voice rose. “Or have ye been pretending? Smiling in me face while plotting to stab me in the back? Waiting to strike at me wife when she is alone?”
The silence stretched out, causing his eyes to burn.
“Hear me now. Whoever seeks our deaths will find worse waiting for them.”
More silence followed, almost as thick as the tense looks on their faces.
Alasdair was panting hard, studying every one of them. They all looked immensely shaken, as if the slightest movement would give away their thoughts.
Good. That was what he wanted anyway.
Lily raised her hand and knocked gently on the door. The village was too quiet for her liking, and every second she spent in front of the door sent more shivers down her spine.
Conall stood behind her, his sword already drawn.
Lily couldn’t blame him. Now, they needed to be prepared for anything. Nothing was off limits.
Brigid leaned close. “Are ye sure this is it?” she hissed.
“Aye,” Lily replied, her voice shaking slightly. “This is where Sorcha said I would find Timothy and Clara.”
Brigid scrunched up her face, the unease clear in her eyes. “Lily… what do ye truly ken about Sorcha?”
Lily turned, surprised. “What are ye saying?”
Brigid took a nervous breath. “Ye said yerself there was a traitor within the castle walls. Sorcha was the one who told ye to come here. What if she also told those men where to wait for us? What if this is all a trap?”
Lily shook her head, her heart lurching. “Nay. Sorcha would never do that.”
Brigid furrowed her brow. “How can ye be so certain? Ye did say she’s the sister of Alasdair’s man-at-arms. Maybe she thinksher braither should be Laird instead of yer husband. Maybe she wants both of ye out of the way.” She gestured toward the door. “And now we’re standing here, knocking, like lambs before the slaughter. What do ye expect will meet us on the other side?”
Before Lily could form an answer, the lock clicked and the door creaked open. She swallowed in relief as Timothy appeared, an urgent look on his face.
