Free Highland Thunder (Isle of Mull Series) by Lily Baldwin Page B

he was not alone in his continued suffering. Besides, Brenna needed him. Draining the last of his ale, Duncan winced as he stood to leave.
    “Something ails you, Duncan,” Ronan asked with a smile. The MacKinnon’s hair was streaked with silver and creases lined his handsome features, but he was still as strong as any other warrior—perhaps more so, owing to his indomitable will.
    “I long for when your age begins to catch up with you, old man. Then perhaps you might ease off a wee bit,” Duncan groaned.
    “Doubtful,” Ronan said. “Where are you running off to? ‘Tis early yet.”
    “I don’t wish for Brenna and Nellore to be alone out there come nightfall.”
    “You’re a good man, Duncan, and a better friend. You’ve shown Ewan great loyalty.”
    Duncan turned away to hide the shame Ronan’s praise made him feel. He doubted Ewan would view Duncan’s longstanding affection for his wife with appreciative eyes.
    “’Tis no matter,” Duncan said as he started toward the door, but Ronan called after him.
    “Before you leave, we’ve business to discuss, but I shall aim for brevity given your wish to flee.”
    “Sit, Duncan,” Jamie said, offering Duncan a full mug of ale. “Brenna will be fine. Ewan used to join us for a cup from time to time.”
    Duncan shrugged and did not take the offered drink. “I plan to leave just the same.”
    “Good lad,” Ronan praised as he claimed the full mug from Jamie’s hand. “Now listen well. You, Jaime, and Cormac will join me in two days’ time. We sail for Islay. I’ve gained an audience with Alexander MacDonald, the Lord of Islay whose territory extends to the mainland. He will know better than anyone news of the English invasion. We must know if the struggle continues and if it will come to our shore. We shall be gone a fortnight or more. Go now, Duncan, and do what you must to ensure Brenna and Nellore are cared for in your absence.”
    Duncan nodded his agreement and then turned from the keep. Despite his sore muscles, he ran to the stables. Night descended on Mull, and he was anxious to return to Brenna.
    “Duncan, what a pleasure to find you here.” Duncan froze. Then he slowly turned from the horse he was about to mount to find his chieftain’s lady passing a brush over her mare’s back. Bridget dropped the brush in a pail and closed the gate, bidding her horse goodnight.
    “I have to ask you a very pressing question,” she said as she drew alongside him.
    Her silver eyes bore through him, penetrating his very soul. Intuitive did not go far enough to describe her capacity for knowing. He cleared his throat nervously. “Aye, my lady,” he said, shifting his eyes to his feet to avoid her piercing gaze.
    Lowering her voice, she said, “How long have you been in love with Brenna?”
    His mind reeled as he stumbled back. “What did you…how did you?” he blustered. Then he gathered his wits and shook his head in denial, but she quirked her brow and folded her arms across her chest.
    “How long?” she insisted.
    “I don’t know if I would go as far as love. I mean…What I mean to say…”
    “Duncan,” Bridget snapped. “Do not lie to me.” Her silver eyes laid open his heart as easily as filleting the morning’s catch.
    He squared his shoulders back and exhaled slowly. “Since the very beginning,” he said. “I’ve loved her from the very moment I first set eyes on her.”
    There it was—the secret hidden in his heart for seven years now exposed. All at once, he felt relieved and terrified, wishing he could swallow his confession and bury it beneath the surface.
    “What do you intend to do about it?” Bridget asked.
    “Do about it?” he snapped but recovered his temper, remembering to whom he spoke. “She is Ewan’s wife. There is naught to be done.”
    Her lips curved, just a whisper of a smile as she moved to stand before him. Taking his hand, she placed a kiss on his knuckle and reached up to smooth his hair from his face