Page 96 of Her Forbidden Highlander Husband

“Let’s speak to them, face-to-face. Maybe something can still be done,” Lach said and nudged his horse.

They stopped in a line in front of the other clan. The four of them against an army. Liam glared at the men across from him. One older, one younger, no doubt the laird, and the man who would marry his Evelyn. His fist tightened as he itched to reach for his claymore and end them.

Evelyn’s new bridegroom looked to be younger than Liam by a few years. Still lanky with youth. He’d be easy to take down. He looked back at the older man, who was more formidable. The larger man looked shocked as he stared at Liam.

Lachlan addressed the Stewart laird as friends and Evelyn’s father sneered and accused them of stealing his daughter away against her wishes. As the two argued, the Morgan laird continued to stare at Liam, not in anger but something else.

Liam refused to look away first. He may not get to keep his wife, but by God, he’d not give the man the satisfaction of winning at this.

“Stop!” the Morgan laird shouted when Lach and the Stewart began to argue more fiercely over the accusation. Everyone quieted as the man moved closer. His horse’s nose was close enough for Liam to touch. Not that he would. “Who are you?” the man asked.

Liam stood straighter in his saddle. “I am Liam MacKinlay, husband to Evelyn Stewart MacKinlay.”

“Who are your parents?” the man demanded as he continued to look him over.

Liam was startled by the question but wouldn’t be shamed. The Stewart laird must have told him Liam’s history. If he thought this would make Liam back down, he was wrong. He held no disgrace for his past. Not when clan MacKinlay had taken him in and made him one of them.

“I don’t know who my parents are, but it doesn’t matter. I am a—”

“How old are ye?” the man interrupted with another question.

“I don’t see what any of this matters.” Liam was seconds away from pulling his sword and ending the questions.

The man swept off his helmet, his pale blond hair shimmering in the sunlight. This close, Liam noticed his light blue eyes. The same color as his.

“It matters. Now, how old are you?”

“I—I’m not sure exactly. I think twenty,” Liam answered.

“Why do you not know? Tell me where you came from.”

“I was found wandering in this very field when I was a boy.”

“Do you have a scar on your foot?” the man pushed, eagerness clear in his eyes.

“I have scars everywhere.” Liam tossed up his hands in frustration. While he was glad they hadn’t launched into battle, this man was acting absurd with his questions.

“Let me see your left foot. Right now!”

Liam looked at Lachlan, who seemed just as confused but nodded. Slowly Liam dismounted. The other man did as well and came to stand before Liam as he took off his boot and stocking.

The man gasped and muttered a curse while pointing at the small scar on the top of Liam’s left foot. Like most of his marks, Liam couldn’t be sure where he’d gotten it, but this one had been there for some time. As long as he could remember.

“Alexander. It is you.” The man grasped him tightly, pulling him into a firm hug. “My son.”

…

When the Morgan laird released Liam, he took a step back. Studying his face, Liam saw similarities to his own. His smile was broad, and a dimple pulled in his cheek, opposite of Liam’s.

“Father, it isn’t him,” the younger man said while sliding down from his horse.

“The hell it isn’t. It’s like looking at a younger version of myself.”

“Forgive him,” the younger man said. “He lost my older brother when Alexander was a young boy. His body was never found so he thinks he still lives.”

“David, I tell you true, this is Alexander. This scar. He lifted my dirk when he was barely old enough to stand and dropped it. The mark goes all the way through. We thought he might lose his foot, but he recovered.”

Curiosity made Liam stand on one foot so he could see the bottom of his sole. Sure enough, the man was right. Lach and Cam saw it, too, for they’d come to stand next to him.