The Chief (Highland Guard #1)(86)

Torquil met his fierce onslaught without flinching. “You left me no choice. I hoped you’d understand that now.”

Tor frowned. “What in Hades are you talking about?”

“I heard the circumstances of your marriage and thought you’d understand. I had to have Meg. She is mine. No matter what the consequences.”

News traveled fast. Tor’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “No lass is worth sacrificing your duty to your clan. What you heard was false. My marriage was the price of peace for yours.”

At his brother’s puzzled looked, briefly Tor explained what had happened at Finlaggan and the terms of the devil’s bargain he’d struck with MacDonald. As his tanaiste—at least for now—Torquil had a right to know the danger they were in, even if he was largely responsible for it.

Notwithstanding Tor’s anger and their very different natures, the bond between the brothers had always been strong. Torquil knew him better than anyone, and sometimes better than Tor wanted him to. Tor could feel his brother’s penetrating gaze studying him carefully as he finished the story.

Torquil shook his head in disbelief. “She tricked you, and yet you still agreed to marry her?” Tor did not answer, knowing it sounded unfathomable. “You’re sure there is no other reason?”

“The marriage and agreeing to train Bruce’s secret guard was the price to secure MacDonald’s help to stave off Nicolson.” Tor’s mouth turned grim. “Though I’m not sure it was worth it, if it gains us MacDougall’s enmity.” He told his brother about the sheriff’s recent “visit.” “Whether he believed that I was besotted, I don’t know—nor at this point does it matter. My marriage to a Fraser was enough to make Edward and his new lackey start asking questions.”

“But you knew this could happen,” Torquil pointed out.

He shrugged. “Aye. It was a possibility.”

“Yet you still married her.” Torquil shook his head again, sending icy droplets of water spraying from his hair. “Are you sure there is no other reason?” he persisted.

A clap of thunder sounded in the distance. It matched Tor’s expression. “What other reason could there be?”

“I’ve met the lass. She’s lovely. There is no shame in admitting you wanted her.”

Tor eyed his brother coldly through the dark haze of mist and rain. “Just because you’ve acted like an idiot over a lass, don’t start attributing your foolishness to everyone else.”

His brother eyed him shrewdly. “Your wife is in love with you.”

Tor stilled, his heart taking a strange jump. “What are you talking about?”

Torquil explained how Christina had walked into the Great Hall when he was locked in an embrace with his new bride. “I didn’t see her right away, but near enough afterward to see the stricken look on her face. She was devastated. It’s exactly how I would have felt had I seen what she did.”

Tor swore and dragged his hand through his now sopping hair. He could well imagine what she’d thought. But love? He hoped his brother was wrong. It would only cause her pain.

“Why did you not tell her we were twins?” Torquil asked. But before Tor could respond, he held up his hand to stop him. “Forget I asked. You don’t tell anyone anything. Flora even had to come to me to find out our saint’s day.”

Tor frowned, not realizing that his first wife had cared about such things. “You have not exactly been my favorite topic of conversation. Hard for you to imagine, I know.”

An arrogant grin spread over his brother’s face. “Lord knows that gorgeous bride of yours is probably tired of your fierce charm. Perhaps we should play that game we used to when we were young—”

Tor had him in a chokehold before he could finish, taking Torquil completely by surprise. He would have to thank Boyd for the move later. He looked into his brother’s eyes. “Touch her and I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”

Torquil nodded, and Tor released him.

“Damn, it was only a jest.” Massaging his neck, Torquil stared at him in the darkness, a knowing look on his face—a look that reminded Tor of MacSorley. “A rather strong reaction, wouldn’t you say, for a wife you didn’t want? I think the lass has gotten under your skin. It’s bloody well about time, if you ask me.” He read Tor’s anger. “I just hope you realize it before it’s too late. Lasses need a little warmth and tenderness.”

His hell-raising brother had been married for a couple of months and now he was the damned expert? Tor didn’t know what his brother thought he knew, but he didn’t know a damned thing. “Shut the hell up, Torquil, or you’ll see the dungeon sooner than you think.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

Tor let him wait—and worry—a moment before answering. He should be punished—and he would be—but right now he needed his brother for something more important. His uneasiness had only grown since John MacDougall’s unexpected appearance on Skye. Something wasn’t right, and he wasn’t going to take any chances.

“Nay, it means your punishment will be delayed. I have a mission for you first.”

Sensing the importance, Torquil sobered, becoming every bit as serious and focused as Tor. “What is it?”