Never Seduce a Scot (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #1)(93)

“You left her no choice,” Graeme bit out.

“And now? You say he has her? How did this happen? Did you not protect her as you should?” Tavis demanded.

“Nay, ’tis true enough that I did not do all I should do. ’Tis my fault she is even now in that bastard’s hands.”

“Nay!” Bowen cried out, his face red with anger. “I will not allow you to take blame for this. He was shot by an arrow less than a fortnight ago by a man wearing the scabbard that the Armstrong soldiers wear.”

Tavis’s head came up, his eyes sparking in anger. “I did not order an attack on my daughter’s husband. I would have never endangered her in that manner. Furthermore, I would not dishonor a blood oath sworn before God and my king.”

“I know you did not,” Graeme said calmly. “I did not know it at the time, and it caused Eveline much grief, for she witnessed the entire thing, and it was she who told us of the scabbard and how they came to be made.”

Tavis closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. “My own daughter believes that I would betray her this way?”

“Eveline was betrayed by four members of my clan acting in conjunction with Ian McHugh. Last eve, Eveline was taken by McHugh and his escape was aided by men I trusted. I have no desire to engage you in battle, Armstrong. All I want is for my wife to be returned safely to my side.”

Tavis stared at him for a long moment, his gaze burning into Graeme, peeling him back, layer by layer. Then his eyes widened in surprise.

“You care for my daughter.”

“My love for her is stronger than my hatred of you. ’Tis why I’ll not raise arms against you today. Instead I ask your aid in the battle against the McHughs.”

Tavis, Brodie, and Aiden all stared at Graeme in astonishment. Then they looked at one another and then back to Graeme and his brothers.

Respect glimmered in Tavis’s eyes as he met Graeme’s gaze once more.

“Summon your men,” Tavis said in a brisk tone. “The McHugh Keep is half a day’s ride. We leave at once.”

CHAPTER 44

“ ’Tis as if they are not expecting battle,” Bowen said as he stared down at the McHugh fortress.

Graeme frowned, though he was in agreement. There was little activity and indeed, it looked as though normal day-to-day operations were being carried out below.

They’d encountered no guards at the border. No one had given warning to the McHughs of the massive army approaching because there looked to be no readying of weapons or men.

Things were quiet. Too quiet. The sun was still well above the horizon and yet the entire keep looked to be readying for the day’s end.

Such laziness and inattentiveness were unforgivable. Did McHugh care nothing for the protection of his clan? Or did he think the Armstrongs and Montgomerys were even now in battle and as such he had nothing to worry about?

Tavis leaned forward in the saddle and then centered his stare down the line at Graeme. “If this is a trick, Montgomery, I’ll not rest until you and all of your kin are wiped from this earth.”

In response, Graeme spurred his horse and began riding down the incline to the gate of the McHugh holding. There was no way to be secretive with an army the size of the two combined clans. His hope was that in order to preserve the lives of his clansmen, the McHugh laird would give up supporting the madness wrought by his son and surrender Eveline into Graeme’s hands.

If not, Graeme was prepared to slaughter every single McHugh.

As Graeme approached, and the hundreds of soldiers began appearing over the hillside, a cry of alarm went up inside the gates of the McHugh holding.

Panic sounded. Cries, shouts, the clank of metal. Screams from women and the sobs of children. Graeme refused to allow it to soften his mind. His wife was somewhere in there, terrified, and God only knew what she’d already been forced to endure.

Patrick McHugh appeared at the guard tower a moment later, fear in his eyes as he surveyed the threat before him.

“Tavis, what brings you here to my keep looking as though you are readying for battle?” he yelled.

“I’ve come for my wife,” Graeme snarled before Tavis could respond.

Patrick looked pale and sweaty. “Your wife? Laird, I’ve not seen your wife. Why would you look for her here?”

Graeme only grew angrier. “You try my patience, McHugh. Present your sniffling, pitiful excuse for a son at once or I vow we’ll kill every last one of your kin.”

Patrick held up both hands. “Tavis, be reasonable. Please. Speak to Montgomery. You and I are friends. We are allies. I have not seen Eveline. You must believe me. I cannot fight the combined power of your two clans and hope to win. I’ll not risk my people when we’ve done no wrong.”

Tavis wavered, his gaze skirting to Graeme. For a moment, Graeme thought that Tavis would side with Patrick and question Graeme’s account again. Graeme’s blood surged with fury, but Tavis said in a low, urgent tone, “Is it possible Patrick could not know of what his son has done?”

Graeme’s lip curled. “I find it hard to believe. However, if Patrick has done no wrong, then he should not object to producing his son to answer the charges against him, nor should he object to us searching the keep.”

Tavis nodded his agreement.

“Produce your son,” Graeme bellowed up. “If you claim you have done no wrong, then you’ll let us question your son and you’ll let us inside your gates to search the keep. Make no mistake, McHugh, this is not a request. We’ll gain access one way or another. ’Tis up to you how it is done. Now do as I’ve said. I’ll not wait a moment longer to be reunited with my wife.”