The Devilish Lord Will (Mackenzies & McBrides Book 10) by Jennifer Ashley

Author:Jennifer Ashley [Ashley, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: to-read
ISBN: 9781946455567
Goodreads: 28408544
Publisher: JA / AG Publishing
Published: 2019-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Will rode slowly around Shieldag Castle’s grounds, watching the house and the road beyond. The rocky hills were trackless, and he guided the horse with care to avoid holes that could break his mount’s leg or even kill it.

He saw no one else about. The narrow road they’d traversed, which Macdonald had no doubt improved at his own expense, was the only way in or out of the glen. A hardy clansman could hike over the hills on his own, but food, drink, and luxuries would have to come by that road.

This place could be cut off at a moment’s notice—probably was in bad snow or rain. A man could be trapped here, or he could defend it against all comers. Macdonald had chosen well. If the British had been defeated, the Bonnie Prince’s father now on the throne, Macdonald could easily have holed up here until he made his fellow Scotsman believe he’d really been on their side.

But the Jacobites had been defeated, and now Macdonald had blocked himself off from Highlanders seeking vengeance.

Not that he’d remain secluded for long. Macdonald was a schemer, always had been. The plan to have Alison McNab marry his brother Horace, who’d died this past year, had been Clennan’s. Alison’s father had possessed plenty of lands, cattle, and money, plus she’d have brought the loyalty of many McNabs with her.

Clennan had been livid when Alison had met Will’s father and decided to elope with him. It had been a love match, the two of them besotted. Alison’s father had forgiven them, but Clennan Macdonald never had. He’d encouraged his entire clan to hate the Mackenzies.

Will studied the massive house below him. Palladian style, as so many manors were these days, every wealthy man wanting to replicate an Italian palace. Mal would know exactly what date the pile had been built and exactly what each feature was called.

He saw Bhreac, small and far away, lounging against the wheel of the coach in the drive outside the house. No worries that any would recognize him—though Bhreac traveled extensively, he’d stayed well away from the Highlands during the Uprising. Playing both sides of the fence, as usual.

Will also spied a tall man striding over the hills, coming straight for Will. He’d not seen anyone exit the house, but now the man climbed over the rocks, steps quick and sure, as though he’d been born and bred here.

Will was off the horse before the man reached him. The intruder was tall and lanky, with a shock of graying red hair, and light blue eyes in a long face.

The man halted in front of Will, studying him in silence. Tears beaded on his lashes as he reached a shaky hand to cup Will’s face.

“God save you, lad,” he said hoarsely, and then dragged Will into a hard embrace.

Will closed his eyes as he returned the embrace, remembering this man’s strength from his days as a toddler. His long-fingered hands had steadied Will’s steps and stopped him from plunging down the sheer hill on which Kilmorgan Castle was built.

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