Page 11 of The Highlander’s Untamed Lady

His words shocked her, but she straightened her back and nodded at him. “I’m tougher than I look.”

He dropped his stare to the letter once more and read. “The girl is exceedingly uncooperative. Come and get her if ye damn well want her. I’ll double the dowry. I recommend ye bring others to help ye.”

The girl? As if she didn’t even possess a name worth taking the time to scribe.

She’d known of her father’s lost affection, she’d known it was broken beyond repair, but his letter was the final, fatal blow in their battle. And it made Diana break inside.

The secret hope of her father’s approval for the woman she’d become, the desire to see his love for her restored, the heart-wrenching need to belong – it all shattered into a million dagger-sharp shards.

The Mackenzie paused a moment after finishing the missive before lowering it. As if he intended to give her time to compose herself.

She would need a lifetime to pull herself from the hurt she’d suffered.

“Are ye…all right?” He winced after he’d spoken, obviously aware of the awfulness of his question.

Her thoughts churned too quickly for her sluggish mind to keep pace. Whatever drug had been given to her had been potent.

Her father didn’t want her. He’d bribed this man by doubling her dowry to take her away. She swallowed away the aching knot swelling in the back of her throat. She would not cry. Not for a father who had not even intended to say goodbye.

“What did he get out of this agreement?” Diana asked, her tone harsh.

The Mackenzie’s gaze dipped. It was only for a flash of a moment, but it was enough to make her stomach slide low in her belly.

“What did he get from you?” she asked again, biting off each word as it was spoken. “Land? Livestock? Wool?”

He answered in a soft voice. “Yer da dinna receive anything from me.”

“Nothing, except me gone,” she concluded.

The Mackenzie shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I think it was at the behest of his new wife.”

Diana straightened. “New wife?”

When she’d last been in the manor with her father, never once had there been mention of a possible bride.

The Mackenzie nodded. “A young woman with brown hair, brown eyes. A bit short, but bonny enough.” He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture.

Diana sat in stunned silence, her mind whirling. Her father, married. He’d never told her, never alluded to the possibility of a new marriage. He’d always loved Diana’s mother. Long after she’d died in childbirth, he had loved her faithfully. Then again, he’d loved Diana once too.

And clearly no longer did.

The wrenching pain in her chest was exquisite.

Her father did not want her.

The weight of a stare fell over her, pulling her attention back to the Mackenzie. He watched her silently. His brows tugged together and visible hurt showed in his eyes. Hurt for her.

She grasped her hood and pulled it over her head, blocking out his face and the evidence of his sympathy. She could stand it no more than she could stand her father’s blatant rejection.

“Leave me.” She’d meant the words as a command, but they emerged in a choking croak.

He hesitated before replying. “I dinna want ye to try to run if I do.”

She gave a bark of harsh laughter. “You brought up a valid point. Where would I go?” she asked bitterly. Tears burned in her eyes. Tears!

She hadn’t cried…ever. It’d been so long, she couldn’t even remember. Not through the whippings for insulting a potential suitor, not through the hunger strikes when she refused marriage requests, or when her father had left her alone in the room with that man. A shudder raked up her spine.

Even still, none were as cruel as this.