Page 8 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
“Why do ye want the castle?” Keira asked, looking him in the eyes. “Ye have been killing our men for the past few days.”
“Why do I want the castle?” Surprise flashed across his face. Surprise that she would ask that question in the first place, which only confused her even further.
“Aye. Why?”
“Why doIwantthecastle?” he asked again, incredulous.
“Did ye nae hear me the first time?”
“I dinnae ken, maybe because yeburned mecastle?”
Keira stepped back.
Burned?
“Ye should have thought about the consequences before doing that, eh?”
Keira turned to Stella, who remained frozen beside Laird Kincaid, the nervous look on her face slowly turning into panic.
“Fetch Hudson for me, will ye? Is he in the castle?”
“I am nae certain, M’Lady. I shall look for him.”
Keira nodded and watched her maid head back into the castle, only to return barely a minute later with her man-at-arms.
“Did we burn a castle?” she asked.
“Nay, M’Lady,” Hudson responded, his voice curt.
Keira turned to Laird Kincaid, a look of mild vindication on her face. “Well, there ye have it, Mr. Kincaid.”
“Laird,”he corrected again, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. “‘Tis nay matter anyway. Ye already handed over the castle to me. There is nothing to be done about that anymore.”
“But ye heard him, did ye nae? We didnae burn a castle. Find yer conquest elsewhere.”
Keira turned around and was about to continue tending to her flowers when she felt it. The cold grip on her right wrist. His hand was strong, and from the way he held on to her, she could tell he was not the kind of man to take no for an answer.
“Perhaps it isyewho didnae hear me properly,” he grunted, his words sending cold shivers down her spine. “It has beenagreedupon that I shall take over the castleas long asI agree to keep yer staff. ‘Tis all in the letter. AndI.Have.Agreed. For all intents and purposes, this castle belongs tome.”
The finality in his voice washed over Keira like ice-cold water.
He was not joking around. He was as serious as anything, and the way he spoke made her understand that no matter how hard she tried, there was nothing—absolutely nothing—she could do about it.
“But what about me?” The words escaped her in a hurried whisper.
3
This was the last thing Evander had expected. He’d known that Blythe Castle was occupied by a lady because he’d had his men do their research. But he had thought she was some old, power-hungry wench who would probably make this castle even harder to take.
He’d imagined an old crone trying to use her wily ways to stop him one way or the other from taking the castle. The last thing he had expected was a siren.
Even now, as he held tight to her wrist and her question hung in the air, he couldn’t help but study her features—how her dark brown hair complemented her hazel eyes and how her dress accentuated her curves rather perfectly.
“What about me?”she had asked.
He could practically sense it in her voice, the utter helplessness. Did she truly have nowhere to go, or was this just her way of trying to convince him not to take the castle?
It was hard for him to know because, even though he had not come to meet an old, power-hungry crone, the woman he was staring at would not make it any easier as well. He could see the determination and commitment in her eyes. She would rather burn the castle down than let him take over easily.
