Page 73 of His Forgotten Highland Bride

“I believe it’s time I handle my sister myself.” His wife brushed back her hair with one hand and stood tall as if preparing for battle.

***

Brenna’s body hurt nearly everywhere as she strode toward the room she usually shared with her husband. The wound in her shoulder throbbed. Her throat burned, and her eyes were scratchy with exhaustion. But she’d never felt better.

She felt foolish for believing her sister had any hold on Ronan, for even the short time she’d considered it. Brenna had allowed her sister to infiltrate her insecurities and weaken her from the inside out. It had been that way all her life. But no more.

After a quick conversation with Malcolm, Brenna tapped only twice on the double doors before entering. Her sister was naked and positioned in what Brenna assumed was a seductive pose on the bed.

“Oh, it is you? What do you want? Where is Ronan?”

“My husband is busy. I have sent to have your retainers awakened, and your carriage is being brought round. You’ll want to get dressed, for my men will arrive in a few minutes to escort you to the bailey, clothed or not.”

Hannah laughed. “What do you think you are doing?”

“I’m removing you from my home. You are no longer welcome here, and I want you to leave. This instant. Your days of controlling me with your venom are over, and I don’t wish to see you any longer.”

“Come, sister, you are angry, but you’ll see this is for the best.”

Brenna wanted to scream at her sister.

“You are a sickness, sister. Every word from your mouth is intended to penetrate and burrow under the skin where it festers and destroys. I am not angry, Hannah. No more than I could be angry with a viper for doing what it is naturally intended to do. But as with you, I do not wish to keep a viper in my home a minute longer than I must. Get up. And get out.”

“But what about the wedding? You asked me to help you.” Brenna saw it as the ploy it was and shook her head.

“Out. Now!”

Seeing that her usual methods would not work in this situation, Hannah turned to another strategy. Her beautiful face pulled up in a pucker, and she sobbed tearlessly, wailing loud enough to bring her guards, causing Hannah to snatch up her robe.

“You’ll want to load your trunks quickly, sister.”

During the brief moment when Hannah dramatically sucked in another breath for her next round of bawling, Brenna interrupted.

“I shall pack your things.” Brenna threw open the lid of the closest trunk and began tossing things in as quickly as she could grab them with her uninjured side. When all but a single gown remained, she turned toward Gabe. “If she is not dressed and leaving in the next ten minutes, you shall have my permission to carry her down to the bailey and put her in the carriage by any means necessary.”

“Stop!” Hannah shouted, running to retrieve a gown Brenna had tossed in carelessly. Crying with abandon, Hannah moved on to her next technique.

“You are daft and touched with madness. It’s no wonder our dear parents married you off to a murderer.”

Brenna stood there looking at her sister. She thought she was truly seeing the other woman for what felt like the first time—not the poised beauty others saw when they looked at the eldest daughter of the Innes laird, but the desperate girl who was so unhappy with her life that her only relief was to wreak havoc so others would be as miserable as she. Letting out a startled breath, Brenna stepped closer and hugged her sister.

“I am so sorry your life is filled with such agony. I see it now when I look at you. Sadness nearly drips from you, unlike the tears you can’t produce. There had been a time I’d envied you. I had tried to be more like you. Graceful and beautiful. But I can see past that now. I see the pain and desolation.”

“Don’t you dare pity me.” Hannah ripped the dress from Brenna’s fingers and tossed it in her trunk much in the same hapless way Brenna had. “You know nothing. You are in your working gowns with a husband who is not sound of body. I am grateful I was not burdened with a lame, ruined man. He is more suited for you.”

In the past, Brenna may have felt each of her sister’s hurtful words as a lash on her heart, but Hannah’s power had faded to nothing. Hannah continued to ramble as they packed the rest of her things, clearly trying to get a rise from Brenna. She even resorted to telling Brenna she was not her full sister but a bastard born of their mother and her lover, a MacColl deserter who passed through Innes lands. Wasn’t that the darkest accusation of children? To claim one’s blood was tainted by the MacColl clan?

Brenna continued to pack—the woman had more things in the room than Brenna, who lived there—and while Hannah stomped about, Brenna remained calm and silent.

Hannah grew even angrier, disparaging every Grant who lived there. Her rage was good for one thing, at least: it served to hurry her along.

When her men returned to carry Hannah’s trunks down to the carriage, she had a serving girl provide a basket of bread and cheese so Hannah could break her fast come morning. Hannah threw the basket back at her.

“I’d rather go hungry than eat the slop from this keep.”

Ronan had come to stand next to Brenna. “She seems displeased with our hospitality.”

“She is in a rant because she is so horribly unhappy with her life and wishes to lash out.”