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“Yer man stole from me. He broke a law. I should see him punished as I deem fit.”

“There was nae proof. Just yer daughter’s words. The wee lass could’ve been mistaken. Heck! She could be lying.”

Keith’s eyes widened in shock just before he rushed across. Darach quickly leaned to the side. He popped his hand up to block the other man’s blow, but Keith held his hand.

“God’s teeth. Stand down, everyone,” one of his men called out.

“Never call my daughter a liar,” Keith snapped. “I wouldnae stand for it.”

“My lairds, I apologize tae interrupt, but we are here tae find a compromise, nae cause more problems,” Arran said in a grim voice. Darach looked back to see him together with Caelen and Wiley standing a foot behind his back. Wiley was already holding a hand on the hilt of his sword.

Darach wrenched his hand from Keith’s grasp and took a step backward. “I am here tae ask ye tae release my advisor, my laird.”

“Nay, I dinnae think so.” Keith backed away and turned his glance from Darach’s direction to Arran, Caelen, and Wiley as if he was trying to read their faces.

“I’d like tae ken what ye mean.”

“I’d like tae ken about my daughter first. How does she fare?”

Darach clenched his hand into fists. “Jane is well. She was treated like a guest since the night she came intae my keep. But we dinnae come here tae trade their well-beings. We came tae trade their destiny. Hand me my advisor, and I let yer daughter out of my gates.”

An uneasy expression flashed on Keith’s face. “Perhaps it would be best if ye stop acting yer crazy pretense because ye ken well enough that yer man is nae longer in my dungeon.”

A silence settled in the room as Darach processed what he’d just heard. It was impossible. There was no way Kenn could have escaped the dungeon, not without help. And there was unlikely to be anyone who would be ready to help him in the MacThomas keep.

Darach believed Keith MacThomas must be hiding the truth for a reason. It was either that or he was a mad man.

He cleared his throat. “Nay. I find it hard tae think ye’d try tae give the short end of the bargain tae me. We both hold something valuable tae the other person. It is only right that we release them tae each other and deal in candor.”

“I think yer the one fibbing here, Robertson. Hand me my daughter, or ye might deeply regret yer choice.”

Darach’s eyes narrowed. Was the man trying to buy time so that he could find a way to whisk his daughter away from under his nose without him being the wiser?

“I dinnae fib, and I am nae fool either. I think we have come tae a discord. Until ye hand me my advisor, yer daughter doesnae leave the keep.”

Not giving the laird a chance to further argue his point, he strode past him to the entrance and hurried out of the tent with his men following.

“Ye’ll regret this, Robertson! I’ll be back with a bigger army tae crush ye for nae giving me my Jane!”

Once outside the tent, they rode hard back to the camp and to the keep without any delay.

Darach had a myriad of thoughts he couldn’t decipher. Did Kenn really break free?

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Jane curled up in her bed, listening to the distant shouts. She tried not to think about the battle outside the walls, instead focusing on how Darach's lips had caressed hers. Oh,the kiss they'd shared. She could barelybelieve it hadn't been a sweet, hazy dream. But she could still recall all of her emotions. Her entire body caught fire from the warm flame.

There was a soft knock on her door, and Jane ambled off to slowly pull it open. Except for a candle revealing Lornastanding at the threshold, the hallway was pitch black. She was dressed in a bright orange homemade gown that accentuated her slim frame with grace.

“I hope ye are doing well?” the sweet girl softly whispered.

Lorna’s pretty eyes were lacking their familiar welcoming warmth, worry blinked in its stead.

“Are ye doing well?”

She shrugged and promptly placed a tray of food in Jane’s arms as she walked into the room.

“Men and their foolish wars. I was going out of my mind, and I thought it best tae spend this time with ye.”


Tags: Fiona Faris Historical