Page 39 of When a Highlander Weds a Hellion
“Broch!” she cried out, dismayed her plan had led to this, but Broch did no more than spear a withering look at her before focusing on Gavin once more.
“I suggest,” Broch growled, “that ye heed me so ye dunnae find out.” With that, he released Gavin, grasped Katreine’s arm—firmly but not so much so that it hurt her—and then with an arch of his eyebrows, he said, “I believe it’s time for ye to go home.”
“Now?” she gasped, her chest tightening and her breath accelerating.
He started striding toward the door, and she had no choice but to do so as well, lest she create a scene or stumble and fall. He paused as he passed Brodee, who stood talking to another warrior. “I need ye to accompany me to the Kinntochs’,” Broch said to his brother. To her utter dismay, the two of them exchanged a knowing look as if they’d spoken of her. Broch was even now, on the verge of taking her away, choosing the Blackswells over her.
Her belly knotted, and she could not take a proper breath. This was the outcome she had desired, but she was hurt and shocked it had come so quickly. His feelings for her could not be very deep for him to be so easily driven to rid himself of her. And to add more hurt to the wound that was her aching heart, she had not imagined once that he would ask his brother to accompany him to return her home.
When the three of them proceeded out of the great hall door, Broch turned to her with his brother at his side. “Go gather whatever ye wish to take back home with ye. I’ll send a servant to fetch it down while we—” he motioned between himself and his brother “—ready the horses.”
The reality that she was leaving almost immediately began to sink in, and a sort of numbness began at her toes and spread rapidly to every part of her body. It was all she could do to nod, turn, and do as Broch had bade her. As she climbed the stairs, her mind raced through every moment since she’d met him, replaying each second from him rescuing her from Mungo, to their swim to the caves, to battling the wolves, to his Blackening and their wedding, to each and every smile, gentle touch, and rapturous joining. Had she been wrong about Broch? Did he not care for her the way she cared for him at all? If she looked back down the stairs now, and he was watching her, then he cared—and he was plotting something. If she glanced over her shoulder, and he was gone, then she’d made a fatal error in her plan for Broch because her plot had been dependent upon him feeling something special toward her.
She paused on the steps and stole a glance over her shoulder. Whatever thread of hope she had held on to snapped. He was gone. Tears welled in her eyes and her throat ached with the need to cry, but she rapidly blinked the tears away and swallowed repeatedly until she felt somewhat in control.
She trembled as she ascended the remaining steps. She would not, under any circumstances, show the man he had hurt her. She would go home to her family and live just as she had originally planned. Except now, she knew without a doubt, that it could never be as she had thought. She had felt the possibility of love in her heart, and nothing would ever fill that void.
Four battle-ready warriors met Broch, Brodee, and Katreine at the drawbridge of her home. They were friendly and welcoming to Katreine, but they kept their eyes and swords pointed at Broch and Brodee. The Kinntoch warriors kept their weapons trained on them all the way to the great hall, where apparently the Kinntoch and his sons were gathered.
Katreine entered the room first, and as Broch followed with Brodee, he swept his gaze over Kinntoch and Katreine’s brothers, who were sitting at a table in front of the dais. Kinntoch and Donell were the first to rise. Donell slammed his wine goblet onto the table and swiped his palm across his mouth as Kinntoch said, “To what do we owe this visit?”
Before Broch could answer, Katreine swung around to face him, her head held high and her eyes twin pools of pain and swirling anger. “I’m being returned,” she said, her voice low and her words halting. Broch had to clench his jaw on blurting the truth to Katreine. Seeing her hurt set an ache in him that was near unbearable.
“What say ye?” Kinntoch demanded.
Katreine faced her father, who was glaring at Broch, and she shrugged. “We could nae manage to live together peacefully, so now we will nae. May I return home?”
Broch fisted his hands to combat the pulsing need to reach out to his wife and touch her, comfort her.
“Of course, Daughter,” Kinntoch responded, but his gaze speared Broch. “Is this correct? Ye dunnae wish to have my daughter by yer side any longer?”
“That’s correct,” Broch managed, feeling gutted when Katreine’s shoulders curled forward as if she were being battered by a storm.
“Father, I’d like to make my way to my chambers,” Katreine asked.
“Aye, but one thing must be cleared first. Could there be a child?”
The very thought made Broch want to grin with happiness, but he ground his teeth together not to show the emotion.
“There could be,” Katreine answered, not looking back at Broch. “And if there is, I’d like the child to live here with me.”
“Nay,” Broch responded. It was one thing to allow Katreine to think she’d won their battle for her own safety; it was quite another to allow her family to think, even for a breath, that they could keep his heir.
She swung toward Broch once more, looking now like a glorious, enraged angel. “So ye dunnae want me, but ye think to take my bairn from me?” Before he could answer her question about a child that may not even exist yet, she yanked out her dagger and pointed it at him. “Ye will nae part me from my bairn ever! I’ll see ye, or anyone who dares to try, dead.” With that, she stormed past him and out of the great hall, slamming the door behind her.
Broch grinned with pride, noted Kinntoch and Katreine’s brothers all giving him odd looks, and then he said, “My wife is a bold lass! She dunnae have fear, Kinntoch.” He laughed when the man gaped at him. “I’m thankful for the excellent woman ye raised,” he added.
Brodee leaned over to him. “I think we should mayhap explain.”
“Aye,” Donell and Kinntoch replied as one.
“Before we kill ye,” Donell added.
Broch took a deep breath and began to tell them the long tale of all that had transpired—and of his plan.
For the first few days after leaving Katreine in the safety of her home, Broch divided his time between training his men and questioning as many Blackswells as he could. He had to discover who had pushed Katreine off the cliff and murdered Arabel and Lenora. He did so with Brodee’s help, but to both of their frustrations, they did not uncover any new evidence.
Broch’s desire to go collect his wife was already making him testy, and it showed in his training. He was short with his men, and when his father brought Gavin to Broch’s group and informed Broch that he’d promoted Gavin to be one of Broch’s personal guards, his irritation ratcheted up to near boiling.
