Page 90 of Won By The Highlander

Nash’s face twisted in malice. ‘Can you not see the way she looks at me? To trust her is to be blind.’

‘That is not blindness. That is love. Something you will never know in a lifetime of lechery. And for your slur on my wife’s name, you deserve something worse than a beating.’ He took hold of Nash by his collar and dragged him to the side of the wharf.

‘No, don’t, please,’ cried Nash, as Wolfric held him over the side with one hand while searching his pockets with the other. He extracted a leather coin purse and then hurled Nash into the black, icy water of the River Ness. Nash surfaced, fountaining water out of his mouth like a fish and paddling furiously to stay afloat as the current pushed him against the hull of a ship, green with slime.

Wolfric turned and grabbed Orla’s hand. ‘My work here is done. Let’s go.’

They walked away with Nash’s pleas for help echoing across the wharf. When they reached the horses, Orla took hold of Wolfric’s dirty face to look at his injuries. He brushed her hand away with a ‘leave it,’ so it was clear his blood was still up.

‘Will someone fish him out, do you think?’ she said, trying to soften Wolfric’s mood.

‘Aye, but not too soon, I hope,’ he replied.

‘Perhaps he will float downriver and make some fisherman a most repulsive catch,’ said Orla.

‘Aye, lass. Maybe,’ said Wolfric, smiling a little.

Orla shook her head, hands on hips. ‘We need to get you home and put a nice piece of beef on that eye. What am I to do with you, husband, always picking fights and brawling in the street?’

‘Suffer me, lass, as you have always done,’ he replied.

Orla went on tiptoe and kissed the only clean spot on his cheek. He grimaced and leant on her.

‘Ow. I think I broke a rib.’

‘Well, you should have kept your guard up better, so don’t expect any sympathy,’ she said.

***

Wolfric’s face had begun to swell most unattractively by the time they reached the hills above Inverness. His lip was puffy too, and he was giving off a faint whiff of harbour muck, but Orla had never loved him more.

‘I am sorry you had to see that, lass,’ he said when they stopped to rest the horses. ‘I had hoped to dispense with the foul Captain Nash without causing you further humiliation.’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t have missed that for the world. Nash got what he deserved, and I needed to see it. And at least you got some coin to pay for his son’s keep. But I worry you will be in trouble with the English for beating one of their own?’

‘I won’t. Our slimy Captain Nash somehow managed to get on the wrong side of Major Sutherland over a lady he had his eye on, so the Major will turn a blind eye to the whole mess. Aye, the Captain will soon be on his way to Edinburgh and in no mood to confess to being beaten bloody by a Scot. And then he is for England, I am told, to wed some hapless aristocrat for her money. I do hope his bruises fade before his wedding day.’

Orla laughed. ‘Good riddance to him, I say, and I pity his poor wife, for she is not getting the best of husbands.’

‘Aye, our Captain Nash has sweet manners and the knack of smiling his way into women’s skirts. But he is cold, ruthless, and cowardly. Now you see your Englishman unmasked, Orla, your hero, brought low.’

‘He was never my hero.’ She gave Wolfric a soft look. ‘You are my hero.’

‘Never doubt it,’ said Wolfric with a big grin.

Epilogue

Orla was skimming stones across the ice-crusted loch, utterly lost in the beauty of a pale blue winter sky, when Bryce called out to her. He came rushing down the bank towards her, impossibly handsome in the soft sunlight. His smile was all contrition.

‘Am I welcome, cousin, or is there a slap heading my way?’

‘Welcome? After you avoid my company for weeks and have scarce said two words to me since Wolfric stole your horses and I disgraced myself over an English redcoat? Why would you not be welcome?’ she said tartly.

Bryce ran a hand through his hair and smirked with his usual irresistible charm. ‘In truth, I was far more vexed about the horses than the scandal you inspired.’ He grabbed Orla’s hand and kissed the back of it. ‘I am come to humbly beg forgiveness for neglecting you, Orla.’

‘It has been weeks, Bryce, and no visit from you or enquiry as to my welfare.’

‘In my defence, I have spent these last weeks defending your honour against scurrilous gossip in many an alehouse. Look, I have the bruises to prove it.’ He pointed to a purple-yellow eye which did nothing to diminish his beauty. In fact, it made him look even more manly than usual.

---