Page 92 of Won By The Highlander

‘And can you?’ said Orla.

‘I don’t have much choice. My father has ordered me to find a bride and wed before the year is out or lose my inheritance. It is a just punishment for me, but not for the poor lass who has to wed me. She is in for a hard life, is she not?’

Orla sighed. She was tired, and now she had to deal with Bryce and his woes. While she adored her wicked cousin, his current antics were exhausting. But he was right. Any woman foolhardy enough to try to tame him would be in for a world of disappointment.

‘Bryce, if you are to marry, choose a hard woman who will keep you honest and stand no nonsense. And you have love to give, cousin. I know, deep down, you crave real companionship.’

‘Oh, do not try to paint me with your happiness, Orla. I am not lonely. Am I not always crawling out of some or other woman’s bed?’

‘That is not the same thing, Bryce, and you know it.’ Orla snuggled into her fur-lined cloak. ‘Winter is starting to bite.’

‘Aye, and it has claimed its first victim. Callum’s father has died. That is the other news I came to tell you. Pneumonia. It took him quickly, and that is a mercy.’

‘Oh, I am sorry for him.’

‘Well, Niall Ross was a crusty old bugger at the best of times and insufferable at his end. But still, Callum feels the loss, and the burden too, for now, he is Laird of Clan Ross, and it sits heavily on his shoulders.’

‘I am sure he will do well enough. Wolfric once said he has the makings of a fine leader.’

Bryce raised his eyebrows at Wolfric’s rare compliment. ‘Did he now? Well, that’s as maybe, but my friend is fearfully lonely, rattling around in that great bleak castle all by himself.’

‘He has servants and his clansmen for company, and they are a rowdy bunch.’

‘Aye, but Callum needs cheering. Perhaps you can visit, cousin, and snap him out of his latest folly.’

‘And what is that?’

‘Callum has been struck by a lass he passed on the road - a ravishing blonde, ‘sent by the angels from heaven,’ if his gushing description is to be believed. He is obsessed with finding out who she is and will talk of nothing else. The lovesick fool is becoming quite the bore over it, and I fear he is in the grip of some grief-stricken madness.’

‘Not madness. ‘Tis infatuation. It happens to us all, Bryce.’

‘Not me, cousin. I am no longer a slave to a bonnie face. I am staying away from women. They are the most dangerous breed of madness. Speaking of madness, I’d best make myself scarce. I see your brute of a husband is approaching.’

‘He is no brute, and you are welcome to stay and break your fast with us.’

Bryce made a face. ‘Delightful as that sounds, I must be on my way. Another time, perhaps, when I am more in favour.’ Bryce looked her up and down. ‘I’ll say one thing in Wolfric’s defence. He feeds you well at Blackreach, cousin, for you have filled out since last I was here.’

‘Are you saying I have got fat?’ snapped Orla.

Bryce smirked as he backed away, out of reach of a slap. ‘No, just nicely rounded, but then, you always were buxom, fair cousin.’

Orla shook her head at Bryce’s fast-retreating back. Despite his teasing, it was a shame he would not stay, for her cousin was never dull company.

Wolfric crunched over the shingle of the bank and regarded Bryce mounting his horse with utter disdain. ‘What did that fool want?’ he snapped.

‘He is in trouble again.’

‘What is it this time?’

‘Oh, a duel and a married lady, both of which ended badly. My uncle Jasper has told Bryce he must marry by year’s end because ‘a man cannot be led by his cock.’ His words, not mine.’

Wolfric let out a deep belly laugh. ‘I like the sound of Uncle Jasper. You should invite him to Blackreach.’

‘I don’t think so. He is my mother’s brother and will have nothing to do with me, given my recent indiscretions. She is sure to have recounted my faults repeatedly to my Uncle.’

‘If he is not loyal to you, his kin, then we have no use for Uncle Jasper.’ Wolfric scuffed the ground with his boot and smirked. ‘So Bryce is to have his balls clipped off, eh. No wonder he is scurrying away with his tail between his legs.’

‘No, I rather think it is because you always glower at him and snarl,’ said Orla, turning back to the loch.

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