Page 45 of The Highlander’s Improper Wife

Fiona shot to her feet. “Ross.” Her face went ashen. “I told him to wait until tomorrow.” “Blackhall!” Ross shouted again.

Taran started for the door. Fiona hurried around the table after him.

Patterson passed in front of the open doorway. “Coming, sir,” he called.

The pounding continued.

Taran reached the doorway. “Never mind, Patterson, I will see to the pup myself.”

“As you say, my lord.”

Taran disappeared into the hall, Fiona close behind and, an instant later, Patterson passed, heading back the way he had come.

Caroline stood rooted to the spot.

“Black—”

A loud bang of wood against stone reverberated through the hallway and into the drawing room.

“Lord Huntly, I see.”

Caroline shuddered at the dark tone in Taran’s voice.

He gave a harsh laugh. “Come to face our dawn appointment?” “Lord Blackhall,” another male voice said.

“Reverend Gordon. By God, Huntly, you could not face me man to man? This is the man you would wed, Fiona?”

Caroline started towards the drawing room door.

“Ross,” Fiona said, “I instructed you to wait until tomorrow when Reverend Gordon could force Taran to see reason.”

Caroline reached the door and peeked into the hallway.

“Blackhall is not capable of seeing reason,” a tall, young man replied.

She winced. The lad looked barely nineteen and had to be at least four stone leaner than Taran.

Fiona laid a hand on his arm. “This is not wise.”

“Lord Blackhall,” the reverend said, “I performed the marriage myself. It is legal.”

“Legal?” Taran repeated. “You speak of legalities. Where is your morality? She is not yet out of the schoolroom.”

“Perhaps,” Reverend Gordon replied. “But the deed is done.”

Taran looked at Fiona. “Deed, is it?”

“Do not act as if I hid the truth from you,” she replied.

Ross gasped. “You told him.” His head snapped in Taran’s direction.

“Patterson,” Taran called, “my dueling pistols.”

Fiona seized his arm. “Brandish those pistols and I will shoot you with one of them myself.”

Caroline barely repressed a laugh. That she would like to see. Not to mention, a bullet through Taran’s heart would solve all their problems. Well, not through his heart, just a thigh, or shoulder perhaps.

“Never mind,” Ross said with a resoluteness that surprised her. “If I must kill him to have you, then so be it.”