Read Online Redeemed (Heroes of the Highlands) (The MacKays #2) by Kerrigan Byrne - Free Book Online
Authors: Kerrigan Byrne
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the long and short of it is I married her.”
Daroch gaped. Perhaps the Laird had gone mad.
“Moved their mother and the entire lot next door for the time being.” Rory wiped a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye.
“Ye… jest?” Daroch asked dubiously.
“Serious as a Banshee’s curse.” The Laird still chuckled as he took his seat again and regarded Daroch over long, steepled fingers. “I’m assuming Kylah’s been yer unwelcome companion these past couple of days.”
Daroch nodded, squirming at the word unwelcome.
“Her mother’s been worried.”
“I thought ye were after some black magic by marrying the Frasier witch,” Daroch recalled. “How did ye end up married to a Banshee?”
“I had no idea Kathryn Frasier was a witch when we married. To be fair, both women tried to kill me,” he said good naturedly. “But Katriona couldna because I’ve already died once and came back so I was immune to her Banshee powers.”
“Ye’re An Dioladh ,” Daroch observed.
“Aye. But Kathryn attempted to poison me on our wedding night and ended up poisoning herself. Katriona took advantage of an empty body and...” he waved his hand, as though that explained the rest.
Daroch gaped for a second time in as many minutes. “So Katriona is now Kathryn.”
“To everyone but her family.” Rory confirmed. “And ye now, though I canna ken why I told ye.”
“Do ye love her?” Daroch’s question surprised them both.
“Aye,” Rory’s lips curved into a secret smile. “I always have.” His smile disappeared as quickly as it had materialized. “Kylah took the news of our marriage understandably hard, though, if ye’ll excuse my saying so, I doona understand why she sought ye out.”
Daroch ignored his question. “Kylah disapproves of yer marriage… because of who yer brother was?”
Any sign of good humor abandoned the Laird’s face as shadows encroached. “Because of what he did to her.”
“Ye mean, burning her and her family alive?”
The Laird’s eyes darkened and the skin around his lips turned white.
A sick, heavy dread landed in Daroch’s chest. “Tell me,” he breathed.
Rory winced. “What has she told ye?”
Daroch shook his head. “Nothing. I only know what I saw in the ruins. Her bones. The ashes… They never put her in the ground. She was just… left there. Bound and discarded.”
The Laird closed his eyes for a long moment, and when they opened again, the pain and shame in their depths shaped the dread in Daroch’s chest into a sharp, jagged point.
“I loved Katriona MacKay since I was a boy,” the Laird admitted. “And Angus he… he loved Kylah because she was such a beauty. But Angus didna love like a man should love. His love was possession, nay, oppression and dominance. He was a covetous, violent, and sick man.”
Daroch’s hand tightened on the birch staff until it was white. His teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. His mind refused the Laird’s words, shunning where they were about to take him.
“Kylah and her mother rejected his offer of marriage on numerous occasions, but once my father died and Angus became Laird, he offered one last time. Ordered it, more like.”
“Nay,” Daroch whispered.
Rory’s throat worked over a difficult swallow before he continued. “Upon receiving her rejection, he took his two closest friends with him to the washhouse. Only Kylah and her mother were home…
“ Nay ,” Daroch shook his head violently, rejecting what came next.
“From what I could tell, Angus and his men were there for an hour or so before Katriona and Kamdyn returned. Before… the fires were set. My wife told me she didna see anything, but they had Kylah and her mother in the back room with the forge and they made her mother watch while they—”
A roar crawled up Daroch’s throat and he surged upward, grabbing the heavy table and tipping it over, reveling in the sound of splintering wood.
Rory was also on his feet, hand at the hilt
Daroch gaped. Perhaps the Laird had gone mad.
“Moved their mother and the entire lot next door for the time being.” Rory wiped a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye.
“Ye… jest?” Daroch asked dubiously.
“Serious as a Banshee’s curse.” The Laird still chuckled as he took his seat again and regarded Daroch over long, steepled fingers. “I’m assuming Kylah’s been yer unwelcome companion these past couple of days.”
Daroch nodded, squirming at the word unwelcome.
“Her mother’s been worried.”
“I thought ye were after some black magic by marrying the Frasier witch,” Daroch recalled. “How did ye end up married to a Banshee?”
“I had no idea Kathryn Frasier was a witch when we married. To be fair, both women tried to kill me,” he said good naturedly. “But Katriona couldna because I’ve already died once and came back so I was immune to her Banshee powers.”
“Ye’re An Dioladh ,” Daroch observed.
“Aye. But Kathryn attempted to poison me on our wedding night and ended up poisoning herself. Katriona took advantage of an empty body and...” he waved his hand, as though that explained the rest.
Daroch gaped for a second time in as many minutes. “So Katriona is now Kathryn.”
“To everyone but her family.” Rory confirmed. “And ye now, though I canna ken why I told ye.”
“Do ye love her?” Daroch’s question surprised them both.
“Aye,” Rory’s lips curved into a secret smile. “I always have.” His smile disappeared as quickly as it had materialized. “Kylah took the news of our marriage understandably hard, though, if ye’ll excuse my saying so, I doona understand why she sought ye out.”
Daroch ignored his question. “Kylah disapproves of yer marriage… because of who yer brother was?”
Any sign of good humor abandoned the Laird’s face as shadows encroached. “Because of what he did to her.”
“Ye mean, burning her and her family alive?”
The Laird’s eyes darkened and the skin around his lips turned white.
A sick, heavy dread landed in Daroch’s chest. “Tell me,” he breathed.
Rory winced. “What has she told ye?”
Daroch shook his head. “Nothing. I only know what I saw in the ruins. Her bones. The ashes… They never put her in the ground. She was just… left there. Bound and discarded.”
The Laird closed his eyes for a long moment, and when they opened again, the pain and shame in their depths shaped the dread in Daroch’s chest into a sharp, jagged point.
“I loved Katriona MacKay since I was a boy,” the Laird admitted. “And Angus he… he loved Kylah because she was such a beauty. But Angus didna love like a man should love. His love was possession, nay, oppression and dominance. He was a covetous, violent, and sick man.”
Daroch’s hand tightened on the birch staff until it was white. His teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. His mind refused the Laird’s words, shunning where they were about to take him.
“Kylah and her mother rejected his offer of marriage on numerous occasions, but once my father died and Angus became Laird, he offered one last time. Ordered it, more like.”
“Nay,” Daroch whispered.
Rory’s throat worked over a difficult swallow before he continued. “Upon receiving her rejection, he took his two closest friends with him to the washhouse. Only Kylah and her mother were home…
“ Nay ,” Daroch shook his head violently, rejecting what came next.
“From what I could tell, Angus and his men were there for an hour or so before Katriona and Kamdyn returned. Before… the fires were set. My wife told me she didna see anything, but they had Kylah and her mother in the back room with the forge and they made her mother watch while they—”
A roar crawled up Daroch’s throat and he surged upward, grabbing the heavy table and tipping it over, reveling in the sound of splintering wood.
Rory was also on his feet, hand at the hilt
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