Highlander The Cursed Lord (Highland Intrigue Trilogy 3)

“You care for him.”

Lawler’s words startled her because they were true. It was madness but somehow, she had fallen in love with the cursed lord, not that she would dare tell anyone. It would be a secret she would keep tucked in her heart.

“I do care for him,” she admitted. “He has a far more caring soul than people think. They only see the curse when they look at him and nothing else. I am glad I got this time alone with him. I have learned much.” She took a much-needed deep breath and set to work.

“Poisoned?” Rannick’s father asked, shaking his head as if he had not heard his son correctly. “Shona was poisoned?”

“That is what the man said and under the circumstances I believe he spoke the truth,” Rannick said. “It leaves the possibility that Cecilia and Phedra may have suffered the same fate.”

Lord Lochlann’s face scrunched in anger. “Someone does not want the Clan MacClaren to live on. It is that crazy bunch who believe the curse must die with you, Brogan, and Odran. Though, I do wonder who is behind them. Who has convinced them of this madness? At first, I thought it was only a few miscreants, dissatisfied with their lot. Then you, Brogan, and Odran made it known that not one of you intended to produce an heir and all turned quiet. Now that you are wed, it has stirred their ire and they are at it once again. And with much vigor from what you have told me. It is wise of you to return to the keep. You and Bliss will be safe there and we will see an end put to this madness.”

“That is something I definitely intend to do, Da,” Rannick said, a look so lethal in his eyes that it shivered his father.

“Hurry your wife along,” his father said. “A good meal and your bedchamber await at home. Your mum has kept it ready, hoping each day for your return. Of course, she also keeps your wife’s bedchamber prepared where you can visit her often and where she will birth your bairn as Cecilia did.”

Rannick recalled his bedchamber tucked away nearly at the top of the keep. He had forbidden his previous wife, Shona, from joining him there and Cecilia preferred visits to her bedchamber. Phedra visited on occasion but never spent the night. When they finished coupling, she got out of bed and retreated to the chamber kept for his wife on the second floor, one he had never been welcomed to visit.

“Bliss will remain with me in my bedchamber and also when she is with child,” Rannick said, not that that would ever happen, though the thought of her growing round with his bairn was something he would love to see. Regardless, she would not leave his bed like his other wives had done. He and Bliss would sleep together each night until death took one of them.

His father opened his mouth to debate the issue.

“I will have it no other way, Da. Bliss and I remain together.”

His terse response had his father nodding. “As you wish, son.”

Rannick left his father to see if his wife was done gathering her things. He did not want to leave this place or the time alone he had with Bliss, but the last attack made it clear they could not stay here, not if he wanted to keep her safe. If not for Bliss, he would have stayed and fought the endless attacks and probably died. Death had been preferable to the life he had been living.

Bliss had changed all that and now all he wanted was her.

He entered the cottage to find Lawler ready to haul the two sacks in his hands out of the cottage.

“Did you bring what I told you?” Rannick asked.

“Aye,” Lawler said, and nodded as his eyes went to the pouch on the table.

“Leave us, and as I said before, say nothing to my father about this,” Rannick warned.

“Aye, my lord,” Lawler said and left.

“Take some now,” Rannick ordered, nodding to the pouch.

“There is no fire. I need to brew the leaves, and I need to see how strong a mixture it is to know if it needs a day or more to take effect,” she explained.

Rannick picked up the pouch and held it out to her. “See to that now.”

Bliss took it from him, having ignored the pouch when Lawler had placed it on the table. She knew paying it no heed would change nothing, but she had done so anyway. She opened the pouch and poured a sufficient amount in her hand to examine.

She pushed the dried leaves around and brought her cupped hand to her nose to sniff. She pushed the dried leaves around again, examining them more closely, then sniffed at them once again.