The Highlander's Destiny (Highland Rogues #2) - Mary Wine Page 0,21

enjoyed being next to Faolan the night before. In fact, enjoy was too tame a word to describe the sensation she’d experienced.

Like she’d been made to fit against him.

But that thought also sobered her, for there was something dangerous in the way it seemed to be rooted deep in her mind. She hadn’t decided to like him; in fact, he frustrated her with his stubborn persistence to overrule her with his greater strength.

Well, ye know that is a fact of life…

She did, and she recognized a twinge of guilt as her due for having a position which allowed her to do what other girls didn’t dare. With both her parents dead and as the laird’s sister, not many had been willing to deny her whims. She’d made the most of the unique situation, too.

Now? Well, now she still a laird’s sister, but on McKay land, she might just become a prize. Faolan didn’t seem to be thinking about wedding her quickly to secure her dowry, but that didn’t mean another McKay would be so gallant.

There were reasons for the rules which life was lived by. She’d heard that sage bit of wisdom more than once through the years.

“Yer brother indulged ye by allowing ye to ride with his men, and ye see what happened when circumstances became dire. Ye ended up fighting for yer life against the river.”

Faolan was hard. But he had the integrity of a man she might label as gallant. Otherwise, he’d have joined her in the bed and made certain he might demand her dowry by morning light.

She needed to leave.

The thought made her discontent, but the long hours of toil in the kitchen ensured she dropped off into sleep.

Even if her circumstances remained on her mind.

*

Rory Mackenzie gritted his teeth. In the distance, he could see the walls of the Mackenzie stronghold. It was a sight which had filled him with joy before. Returning home had always been marked with smiles and joy.

Today, it wouldn’t be.

One of the Retainers up on the walls spied them. The bells began to ring soon after, alerting everyone to their arrival. But the men up on the wall also noticed the three bodies lying over the saddles of the horses. When they rode through the gates and into the main yard, there was a hushed crowd waiting for them.

Buchanan Mackenzie was there as they dismounted. He made quick work of looking at the faces of the dead before he turned on Rory.

“We could nae find her.” Rory forced the words out. He’d have rather stepped off the gallows platform himself than admit his failure. “The river…swept five away. And we could no’ find two.”

Buchanan’s face tightened, but he controlled his temper while sweeping Rory from head to toe and noting the cuts and bruises and torn clothing.

“Let’s get ye inside, man,” Buchanan spoke in a clipped tone.

There was a short cry as one of the men was recognized by his new widow. The sound sliced deeper, leaving Rory fighting to move. The storm was certainly not his fault, and yet, any man who accepted command of others took with that duty a responsibility to prepare for any eventuality.

Inside the hall, the mood was somber. The conversation was muted as Rory followed Buchanan to the study. His laird turned to face him, his expression clearly showing how hard Buchanan was fighting to control his fury.

Rory began the tale, his tone rich with frustration. “I swear I combed the river bank for her, Laird. But the water came so fast and disappeared just as suddenly.”

Buchanan held up his hand. “So, it is possible she was carried in a direction ye did no’ search?”

“It is,” Rory confirmed. “I had to bring the…others back.”

The bodies had already begun to swell. Burying a husband was hard enough. Facing a rotting corpse was something Rory hadn’t been willing to force his clanswomen to do.

“Ye did the right thing.” Buchanan clasped Rory on the shoulder. “Cora is strong. If ye did no’ find her…there is hope.”

The laird’s tone was grim. Rory gritted his teeth. He reached up and tugged on his cap before he left. Washing the filth from his skin after being out on the road was normally something he enjoyed, but there was little cheer to be found in the Mackenzie stronghold. There was only the bitter reality of knowing it was unlikely Cora was still alive.

*

Buchanan frowned.

He quelled the urge to head for the stables. Instead, he reached for another piece of paper