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‘Well, Wolfric did win the race, cousin, and thereby your hand.’
Orla punched Bryce in the arm. ‘Must you be so infuriating, Bryce? That is not the point at all. I do not want him, and I shall not have him. Is there nothing you can do to save me from this mess my parents have made?’
Bryce led her further away to a dark corner, out of earshot. ‘It is not my place to intervene, and I fear whatever I say will do no good with those two. They have made their bed, and now you must lie in it – the marriage bed, that it is. As to Wolfric, I do not know the man well, haven’t laid eyes on him for years, but he entered that race intent on winning it at the behest of his father.’
‘If Rufus Munro hates us, why would he want to marry his son to a Gordon?’
‘The land is a tempting inducement, but there is great enmity between his clan and yours. Winning Dunbar Gordon’s daughter is a way to offend and humiliate him. This is his way to exact vengeance for old slights perpetrated by your father.’
‘What old slights?’
‘I don’t know exactly, but their hatred is bitter and has not faded with time. So I am certain Rufus Munro will twist the knife on this one. He will not back down.’
‘And his son? Perhaps he can be worked upon. Tell me, Bryce, what do you know of him?’
Bryce rubbed his chin and sighed. ‘I knew him in his youth, and Wolfric was always magnificent on a horse. He shows no fear on a mount whatsoever. An excellent seat, aye.’
Orla pinched her cousin’s arm. ‘I know that already. What else?’
‘Well, our paths crossed as young bucks. I recall brawling with him from time to time when we were lost in drink. When it comes to a scrap, Wolfric fights dirty, and he is fearsome and relentless. I doubt the time away has softened him. As his wife, you’ll certainly not want for protection.’
‘Other than from him.’
‘Aye, well, I can’t answer to that. What else? Oh, aye, he was an excellent swordsman back in the day, and he could drink any man to a stupor, and as for the lasses, even I would be put to shame by….’
‘Bryce, I don’t care. What is his character like? Does he have a vengeful or cruel temperament? Is he lazy or industrious, dour or cheerful?’
Bryce bared his teeth in a placatory grin. ‘Wolfric has always been a bit of a mystery. He was brought up rough, I can tell you that. I doubt Rufus spared the rod. But fear not, cousin. Wolfric Munro is notoriously unreliable, goes his own way and will not be told.’
‘How does that help?’
‘Because, if the fancy takes him, Orla, he might not even turn up to the wedding, for I am sure the last thing he wants is a wife. Soon, he will be face down in a puddle of ale in a whorehouse in some distant town. Though there is one problem with that.’ He grimaced. ‘If Wolfric does not take you, and Robbie came in third, doesn’t that make you Robbie’s to claim?’
‘I had not thought of that. Damn. And Robbie is not exactly fond of me now I have taken Wolfric’s side when he accused him of cheating. Oh, I cannot bear this.’
‘Nor can I. You have good reason to be concerned, cousin. Wolfric and old Rufus have been estranged for years and cut ties long ago. When he left Inverness, Wolfric was a lost cause who could not be relied upon for anything. I doubt the time away from his clan’s steadying influence has softened him. I fear it might have done the opposite and hardened Wolfric into something far worse, cousin.’
‘On the contrary,’ came a voice from the shadows. Wolfric emerged and strode forward, locking eyes with Bryce. ‘The years spent travelling in England and beyond have given me a sheen of respectability, Bryce Cullan. Only a thin one, you understand, but enough to pass for a gentleman in the most exalted of places, even the grand Gordon stronghold.’
Wolfric Munro leant in so close to her that Orla could smell his leather jerkin and a whiff of ale. ‘Though at heart, I must confess to being the same drunken, brawling womaniser.’ His black eyes pinned Orla. ‘But now I have the inducement of a worthy bride, I shall endeavour to change my wicked ways.’ His eyes screamed the opposite as they held her gaze.
Bryce stepped between them. ‘I speak as I find, Munro, and the lady clearly does not consent to this match.’
‘Give me five minutes alone with her, and she will,’ Wolfric replied, with all sorts of implication in his dark, deep voice.
‘Now look here, Munro….’
‘It’s alright, Bryce,’ said Orla. ‘I will speak to this man and make him see sense.’ She squared her shoulders, refusing to be cowed by Wolfric Munro, no matter how fearsome his reputation.
‘Then we should find some privacy to talk, lass? It seems we have much to discuss,’ replied Wolfric, with a smirk.
Her best hope was to reason with the ruffian directly and to hell with her parents and Bryce and everyone else. She would face this man down and not be bullied anymore.
‘Come with me,’ she said. ‘These walls have ears.’
Chapter Seven
It was quiet in the glooms of the storeroom, which they had reached by a back staircase so as not to be seen by prying eyes. He could almost be heading to a tryst with Orla Gordon, but instead, Wolfric was sure he was in for a fight. It was strange that the lass was not afraid of being alone with him. She must be a bold one indeed, but that would be her downfall, for that boldness verged on recklessness. And now he had her in a quiet place, alone and unchaperoned, and his blood was up.
