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‘You said you stalked them with another. Who was it?
‘Never you mind, lass.’
‘Was it my cousin, Bryce?’
‘Bryce? No. Why would you say that?’
‘He was strangely distant and troubled when last I saw him as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Is he burdened by the death of these two men, Wolfric?’
‘No, it was not Bryce, I swear. As to the man who aided me, the less you know of him, the better, for his life depends on it. His people suffered too at the hands of these villains, and he wanted to help put them down.’
‘And Elva? Was it the same men who shamed her?’
‘No. It was another man, a lone redcoat, and she described him very differently. In fact, her recollection was vivid. A scar slashing down one side of his face, from temple to mouth. ‘Red hair and dead eyes,’ she said. And yet, I cannot find him, which makes me think perhaps I have been mistaken somehow.’
‘Mistaken?’
‘Aye, for I have asked many of my acquaintances in Inverness, the high-born and the less savoury folk, and they say they do not know this man nor have any recollection of him.’
‘And a man who fits that description should be hard to miss,’ said Orla.
‘Aye. It is a mystery that I intend to solve. But now, lass, do you think less of me than before?’
To his amazement, Orla dismounted, took his hand and kissed it. She lay her cheek to his palm. ‘You stood by me when you knew I had done wrong and when even my own father looked away from me. I believe in you, Wolfric, totally. I believe you sought justice for those lasses, not vengeance, and I will take your secret to the grave. Why did you tell me? You could have stayed silent.’
He slid from his horse and took her in his arms. ‘If there is to be trust between us, it cuts both ways. You have come to me as an unwilling bride, yet you have suffered to have me. You have made a place for yourself at Blackreach, and now I cannot do without you. I want you to really know me, Orla, the good and the bad, for how else can you love me as much as I love you?’
Her mouth fell open, her beautiful kissable mouth, and tears sprang to her eyes. ‘You love me?’ she gasped.
‘Aye, and it feels good to say it, but I do not claim to hold as special a place in your heart as you hold in mine.’ He kissed her forehead and laughed. ‘I know there are better times and better places to say it, Orla, somewhere in sunlight and laughter, not shivering by a grave, but when I say I love you, I mean every word. You have gently thawed my hopeless heart, and now it burns for you.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Orla stared up at Machrief’s walls and sighed. She felt sick at the thought of entering its gates. It had once been home, but now she felt like a stranger, uncertain of her welcome. Some of the servants smiled and waved as she rode in, but they put their heads down and went back to their work when her mother emerged from the main door. She looked Orla up and down and frowned.
‘Seeing as you have been brazen enough to show your face here, I suppose you had best come inside,’ she snapped. ‘It is bitter out here,’ she added, shivering and wrapping her shawl tightly around her like a shield.
They made their way silently to a small parlour, which was a favourite of her mother’s. It was more modest than most of Machrief’s many huge rooms, with a low ceiling and small windows, and it was tucked away from all the noise and bustle. Orla inwardly cursed Wolfric and his insistence that she come and build bridges with her family. This would not go well, for she knew her family better than he did, in all their selfishness and indifference.
Her mother dragged her inside and slammed the door shut. ‘Once your father finds out you are here, there will be hell to pay,’ she hissed. ‘We don’t have much time.’ She pinched Orla’s cheeks and tutted. ‘Oh, you are pale, but you have filled out a little, so I suppose they feed you enough. Did that brute beat you very badly?’
‘What brute?’
‘Why that awful husband of yours, of course. I can understand why you would stray. I used to love a man in regimentals in my youth, and such a refined one is Captain Nash. But you should have been more discreet.’
‘What are you talking about, Mother? I did not stray. It was a lie, well, most of it.’
Her mother pushed her face into Orla’s. ‘Most of it? What did you do exactly?’
‘I struck up a friendship with Captain Nash. That is all. I did not shame myself or my family name. And you must believe me because my husband does.’
‘Does he now? No doubt, he is trying to save face, for my friends can talk about nothing else, and apparently, it is the gossip of the hour in every dark corner of Inverness. By God, that Wolfric nearly beat Robbie Dunn to death for saying what he said.’
The door burst open, and her father strode in wearing a thunderous look on his face. ‘So, you live still. I was afeared that the Munro villain would do murder when he got you back to that awful rathole at Blackreach. I was sure I’d never see you again after you made a spectacle of yourself at the assembly rooms.’
‘Yet you did not come to enquire about my welfare, Father, nor have you been once since I wed.’
‘Me, go to Blackreach – unthinkable.’
