Page 7 of Highland Seduction

“This place crawls with Shaws. ’Tis time to leave.” There was a wistful tone to his brother’s voice, and Tor knew the reason. He looked off into the distance toward the cottage they’d avoided coming here. It was Royce’s history with Rhona Shaw that had begun the mess they were now embroiled in.

But that was another problem for another day. Today, Tor’s problem was very much the woman he’d not seen since their hasty wedding. Thankfully they’d not been forced by the king to openly consummate their marriage. Satisfied he’d ruined enough lives for the eve, he’d finished his meal and retired from the hall not long after Tor took a wife.

A goddamn wife, and a Shaw at that.

“I’d gladly do so. But if ye’ll remember, I’ve a wife to see to.”

“Have ye spoken to her yet?”

“Since we exchanged our vows? Nay. She disappeared from the hall and failed to appear at the morning meal.”

“Ye should have been there,” Royce said of the marital contract negotiations.

“Was she?”

“Aye.”

“And?”

“And, ’tis done. Her brother is little pleased, as expected. He demanded Alexander dissolve the marriage, arguing the terms had been met by his and Catlin’s union. He took exception to being absent from the proceedings as well.”

“She could have fetched him last eve.”

“But chose to acquiesce instead, the moment the king sent for him.” Royce looked at him expectantly, as if thinking that one noble act could atone for her name.

“She is a Shaw, Royce.”

“Aye, she is.”

“And by our sister’s own account, enjoys exerting authority as well.”

“Perhaps she can control ye.” Royce laughed at his own jest. One Tor did not find particularly funny.

“I neither wish to be controlled, nor married. Most especially to her.”

“As I said, I am sorry for it, brother. But I cannae fix it now. Ye should have let me wed.”

“And what if he married ye to Rhona?” His brother was silent. “I could no’ let him do that to ye. Besides . . .” He smiled. “We will no’ remain married for long.”

Royce got that look. The one that said, Whatever ye’re thinking, brother, do no’. Tor knew that look well. “Tor—”

“If Ian and Marta are truly alive, based on the healer’s account, I will find them. We will issue a formal apology to Clan Shaw for the false accusation and appeal to the king, tell him our marriage was unnecessary, for the feud—or at least this most recent clash—is now over.”

Royce’s jaw had dropped at “I will find them” and had not closed since. “Are ye mad?”

Perhaps he was. But the alternative was simply unacceptable. “Think on it, brother . . .”

“Think on it? Tor, we dinnae know if it was truly Ian and Marta that were spotted. The healer treated a couple. And aye, it could be them, God willing. But even if Marta is found alive, there is little chance the king will annul this marriage. Our feud with the Shaws began long before she disappeared.”

Tor ignored the catch in his brother’s voice. “But it had been dormant for many years. We have many allies, and many enemies, Royce. Never before had it become necessary for the king to intervene in a feud. If Marta and Ian are alive, we can live more peaceably with the Shaws, aye?”

“There are too many unknowns for yer plan to work, Tor. Ye can be persuasive, brother, but the king? He is immune to such charms, as ye saw last eve.”

Tor was not deterred. “I will find Marta and Ian, convince the king our wedding was unnecessary, and get this marriage annulled. And then return to ye as yer second once again.”

Royce put a hand on Tor’s shoulder. “I would like naught more, and will await yer return, brother. But I fear ye will be wed still when ye do come home.”

Tor ignored that last statement. “I do this no’ only for myself,” he said sincerely, “but for our clan. Last eve—”