Page 107 of Desire of a Highlander

Bryce’s dark eyes looked Ronan up and down but still he said not a word.

Neither seemed quite certain how to begin. At last Bryce gave a short, humorless laugh. “Ye were always a pain in the arse, even when we were children. Ye know that?”

“Aye,” Ronan agreed. “I know that.”

That drew the faintest twitch at the corner of Bryce’s mouth. For just an instant he looked like the brother Ronan remembered from long ago. Then it vanished again.

“I nearly let ye die today.” Bryce stared across the battlefield. “I told myself it wasnae my affair, that ye chose yer path and that ye could live or die with the consequences.” Bryce’s jaw tightened and he met Ronan’s gaze. “But I heard what ye said to Murdoch. I heard ye refuse to betray me, even when Henry Murdoch offered ye my head.” His gaze sharpened. “I have to admit, I was a little surprised by that. And I was even more surprised when I realized I couldnae watch ye die.”

“And I’m grateful,” Ronan said. “And I’m also sorry. For everything. I dinna think I ever told ye that.”

His gaze drifted to the spot on Bryce’s hip where the scar lay beneath his shirt. Bryce instinctively laid his hand over it. For several seconds he simply stood there. Then he sighed.

“I’m sorry too,” he said at last. “Back then I was a bit of a bastard, apparently. Evan and Niall helped me see that.” At the look of surprise that crossed Ronan’s face, he gave a brief laugh. “Aye, we’ve reconciled and I’m just as shocked by that as ye are.” He rubbed his chin. “Ye have to understand, Ronan, things weren’t as simple as ye think. Father left the estate in heavy debt and as heir, those debts fell to me. I thought the only way to manage it was to take everything. Or that’s what I told myself anyway. So aye, I’m sorry.”

The admission hung between them. Ronan had imagined hearing those words for years. He had thought he would feel triumphant at his brother’s humbling. Instead, he only felt sad. Sad that neither of them said these words all those years ago and saved themselves this bitterness and heartache.

“So was I,” he said softly. “If ye were a bastard, then so was I. I had no right to do what I did to ye.”

Bryce looked surprised. Silence settled again but this one felt gentler, less hostile.

Bryce looked towards the river. “Yer woman came to see me.”

“Aye. I know.”

Bryce snorted. “She was quite...formidable.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. “Ye dinna know the half of it.”

“I couldn’t decide whether she was remarkably brave or utterly mad.”

“A little of both.”

Bryce smiled. “Perhaps. Yet she talked a lot of sense. She asked questions I’d never considered. I’ve negotiated with chiefs. Judges. Government men. None of them cornered me the way she did.”

Ronan nodded. “That’s my Elodie.”

Bryce reached inside his coat and Ronan stiffened instinctively, but instead of a weapon, Bryce produced a folded parchment which he held out to Ronan. “I had my clerk prepare this.”

“What is it?”

“The agreement Elodie suggested.”

Slowly, Ronan reached out to take it. As he scanned the opening lines his eyes widened.

Bryce spoke quietly. “It’s a charter. An agreement. Ye swear fealty to me as earl. I recognize yer right to father’s southern lands. I guarantee their protection under Campbell law.”

Ronan looked up, stunned. “Ye had this written...”

“After Elodie left?” Bryce nodded. “I wasnae ready to admit she’d made sense at the time. Like I said, sometimes I can be an arse. But then Murdoch came and made the decision for me.”

Ronan folded the parchment carefully. “I dinna know what to say.”

Bryce shrugged. “Try ‘thank ye’.”

Ronan laughed. A genuine laugh. Perhaps the first he’d shared with Bryce since they had been boys. “Thank ye.”

Bryce nodded once, a tiny smile twitching his lips. “Ye are welcome.”