Page 61 of At the Highlander's Mercy
‘I will not repeat the past, Dougal. I have lived asthough Connor’s words to me were true. I will not do it any longer.’
‘So,’ he asked as they entered the bedchambers filled with thousands of memories now for Rob, ‘you think the MacLeries will just let you ride off with Lilidh? Do you think she will even speak to her after what you said? What you did?’
Miserable after two months without her, Rob knew he had been a fool. And he had been as unworthy of Lilidh as her father had accused. He’d let Connor scare him off four years ago, doing the laird’s dirty work for him on the way out, but no more.
These last two months had been hell.
So many times he returned here to share something with her or to get her opinion or to discuss a plan, only to realise she was gone. He’d chased her away in spite of the love she had given to him.
Because of his fears.
What the hell kind of laird could he be if he was ruled by fear?
‘Rob,’ Dougal said, grabbing his arm to make him stop packing, ‘the elders are not in favour of this either.’
‘I do not give a damn whether they like it or not. If I am laird, I will decide. If they do not want me as laird, there is always Symon.’ He stopped a moment or two later when he noticed the horrified expression on his friend’s face. ‘I ask you again—will you come with me?’
‘And do what?’ Dougal crossed his arms and glared at him.
‘Pick up the pieces of my body and bring them back for burial?’ he asked. Though he said it in jest, it wasone possibility of what could happen to him at the hands of the MacLeries. ‘Guard my back.’
‘If I was guarding your back, I would convince you of the folly of such an action. Let some time pass before approaching them. Send a message or two to gauge their willingness to talk. Use an intermediary to establish talks.’
Rob held out the parchment then, letting his friend read it. It was similar wording to the one from a year ago, but this time he had received it.
My husband is seeking an appropriate match for
Lilidh’s hand in marriage.
‘There is no time,’ Rob said. ‘I leave at first light.’
Dougal looked from the message to Rob and back again before letting out a loud sigh. ‘You know he’ll send Rurik up against you first. Can you defeat him in battle?’
Could he defeat the MacLerie’s champion? The largest and strongest man he had ever met? Could he?
* * *
The answer, as he discovered just a week later, was no.
Rurik was as unbeatable now as he’d always been. As Rob forced himself up from the ground for the fourth time, he reminded himself of why he was doing this.
For her. For Lilidh.
Yet, he had not seen or heard her. Barely through the gates of Lairig Dubh, Rurik had charged him. Dougal had been dragged aside and now the battle went on through the yard. It was hard to see who observed them since one eye was swollen closed. It was hard to breathewith the broken ribs Rurik had caused with the first punch delivered. The blood streaming down his leg from the gash there made the ground underneath it slippery.
He’d begun fully armed with his sword, targe and dagger. As Rurik circled him now, only the sword was left. When those in the yard stopped cheering for Rurik and taunting him, Rob knew that Connor had arrived.
‘What are you doing here, Matheson?’ Connor called out. Rob turned in the direction of the call, hoping he faced Connor, but not certain because he could not see well.
‘I am here for Lilidh,’ he answered back, wondering if she was watching this and cheering for Rurik.
‘You are not worthy of her. Go home and do not return here.’
‘I think I am, MacLerie. I will not leave without her.’
The quiet at his approach now gave way to complete and utter silence, only the sounds of his hard breathing breaking into it. He’d challenged their laird—something few men had done and lived to tell of it. Thinking about it, the only man he knew who had was the one who had greeted him—Rurik.
‘Then show me how worthy you are, Matheson.’
