Page 134 of Highland Spy

It was all she would need to sacrifice to gather the cards she’d need. And soon, oh soon, she would once again be winning.

• • •

After three long years, Connor was finally prepared to meet Kenneth Gordon again.

Connor passed through the crowd, careful to keep himself partially hidden by those around him. His gaze remained fixed on the man who had betrayed him, despite the numerous people who slipped into his line of vision.

The memory of Ariana’s mouth still warmed his lips, a sweetness lingering from their kiss. Even if it had been he who’d kissed her.

Thoughts of Ariana could come later.

Now was for Kenneth, who had turned toward a narrow hallway and was quickly becoming little more than a retreating back. Had he seen Connor?

Was Kenneth running?

Connor made his way through the masses of people and stopped when he saw Kenneth reappear in an alcove overlooking the party.

Silent as only the Shadow’s son could be, Connor made his way to the alcove, creeping down the same hall and spiraling up the narrow staircase.

Kenneth turned abruptly and froze, his legs set in a wide stance of authority, his hand braced on the stone rail of the balcony with an ease too casual to be earnest.

Both men regarded one another for a long moment, a chance to assess three years and everything else in a fraction of a second.

In that time, Connor noted the white hair feathered through the dark at Kenneth’s temples, and how the lines of his forehead had become deeply creased. Kenneth had also gotten larger, if such a thing were possible. His shoulders squared with a power he’d always worn with such admirable ease.

He swallowed once and the prominent lump in the center of his throat bobbed. “Ye always were stealthily quiet.”

To see Kenneth again almost left Connor overwhelmed. So many emotions…all immediate, all intense.

The love, the hatred. The brother, the enemy.

Kenneth spoke in a voice softer than Connor had ever heard. “I thought ye were dead.”

He rushed forward and Connor tensed to lift his blade free.

But it was not a shot to the gut or a fist to the face that came to him. Kenneth’s arms wrapped around Connor in an embrace so fierce it robbed him of breath.

Not that he’d ever admit as much.

Kenneth gripped Connor’s shoulders and pushed as far as his arm’s length would allow. “I thought ye were dead.” He repeated it in a louder voice, his excitement evident.

But Connor did not give in to the current of elation tugging at him. He didn’t have the luxury to do so.

The last time he’d spoken to Kenneth was the day Connor had lost everything.

He pulled back in a hard jerk of anger. Emotion washed over him in an unexpected surge and dragged him below the surface of his own rage. “Yer father took Urquhart.”

Pain etched harder lines on Kenneth’s face. “Connor—”

“He took Urquhart and he killed my da.” The words came out through clenched teeth, but that did not make them silent.

Several people below looked up at them, but Connor paid them little mind.

Kenneth reached for Connor, as if he meant to embrace him once more. Connor stepped back, hands up to prevent the man he’d once called his brother from touching him.

“Connor, I couldna stop him. I tried. When that dinna work, I knew I had to save ye and Cora.” Kenneth raked a hand through his hair. A spiky black strand of it jutted up from his temple, like the feathers of an odd little bird. The memory of his hair standing in tufts when not smoothed down tickled at Connor’s memory. It’d been funny when they were lads. Connor found himself decidedly not in the mood to laugh at present.

“I know I can never make it up to ye.” Kenneth’s eyes searched Connor’s, almost pleading. “I’ve cared for yer people, I’ve kept Urquhart from being taken by townsfolk.”