A Flawed Scotsman (Clan Ross Book 4)

by Hildie McQueen

  Esme nodded at Elspeth to let her know she’d be there shortly.

  The strength and power of this clan made her realize the difference between Ruari’s family and hers. “No one would dare attack yer clan,” she told Ruari “This clan is powerful.”

  Ruari shook his head. “Power and size do not always mean safety, Wife. Someone killed my uncle despite being escorted by guards and on our lands.”

  He escorted her toward the table of women. “I am glad to meet the women who live here,” Esme told him. It was best she find out what her new life would be like and what duties she’d be expected to perform. Not one to remain idle, she would ensure to do her part as well as continue to maintain her archery skills.

  “We shall greet them, but I prefer ye sit with me this morning.”

  Esme ate with gusto. The food was flavorful and well prepared. When she finished her food, Ruari slid a tray closer, so she could refill it. “The cook performs wonders.”

  “Aye,” Ruari said with a grin. “Moira is one of a kind.”

  *

  Just after first meal, Ruari went out to inspect his land. Although his mount remained somewhat rebellious, the beast seemed to accept that Ruari was just as stubborn and kept a steady pace to the land that had been left to Ruari.

  It was not too far from the keep and a bit farther from the village. Many of the trees had been cut down as that area had been used to harvest wood for building and fires. It was understood that, one day, it would be built upon, so the clearing would make it easier to do so.

  Still mounted, Ruari studied the area, mentally picturing where it would be best to build.

  He’d never actually planned to use this land. Although his uncle had always insisted it was his birthright, a part of him wondered that if things had been different, would the land have been his father’s instead.

  Thinking it was an illusion, he leaned forward at seeing smoke. If someone traveled through and had a fire, then he’d allow it as long as the person or persons did not plan to remain.

  An old cottage they’d often used when hunting sat amongst the trees. From the chimney, a thin, wavy trail of smoke escaped. Ruari let out a breath. Whoever was there had to be evicted immediately unless they’d received the laird’s approval. Malcolm had not said anything about giving someone permission, so it was probable the person was a squatter.

  He rode closer and dismounted. Then taking his sword from its sheath, he approached with caution.

  “Who is here? I am a Ross, show yerself,” he said and knocked on the door with the hilt of his sword.

  There was a cough and shuffling. “I have every right to be here.” The voice that replied was hoarse from misuse or being infirmed.

  Finally, the door opened, and a tall man emerged. Immediately, Ruari recognized him. The person’s appearance took his ability to speak away and Ruari took two steps backward.

  “Ye. What are ye doing here?”

  Somehow, despite not seeing the man since he was very young, he knew instinctively who he was.

  Everything inside Ruari demanded action. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword and he snarled in the direction of the man who’d left him and his mother many years earlier. This man had let everyone believe he was dead. His own brother had died without ever knowing that he lived.

  “Leave at once.” Ruari held the sword up when the man took a step toward him. “Turn around, get yer things and leave. This is my land.”

  Conor Ross straightened to his full height and gave him an angry look. “I won’t allow ye to speak to me…”

  At the slash of Ruari’s sword too close to his throat, Conor held both hands up and took a step back. “I returned because I heard of my brother’s death. I had to see for myself if it was true.”

  “It is true. Now, go.” Ruari hated the trembling of his legs.

  So many years of wondering, of not knowing if the man lived or died, only to find the man in the hunting cottage. Ruari had gone so far as to suspect his own mother of killing him. And now the man had the gall to act as if he had rights to the land they stood on.

  “I will go. But first, ye must know why I left.”

  “It matters not. Ye are not my father. I do not care.”

  “She told me ye were not mine, that ye were fathered by my own brother. Yer mother laid with him.” Conor jutted his chin in the direction of the keep. “I confronted Robert and he admitted it.” The man spat on the ground. “It was his responsibility to raise ye. That is why I left. I was cuckolded by my own flesh and blood.”

  “Stop.”

  Conor shrugged. “It is the truth. I had to leave. It was that or kill my own brother.”

  The words sunk into him and Ruari’s chest constricted. He did his best to swallow past the bile that rose in his throat.

  “Liar.”

  Conor met his gaze without wavering. “It is the truth. Ye are Robert’s son. He admitted to it. I could not see past my fury. I wanted to do so many wrong things. That is why I left. Ask her, ask yer mother.”

  Ruari’s hand shook and he considered whether to end the man’s life then and there.

  Conor held up both hands and took several steps back. “I will leave. I was here only for a few weeks. I had to rest. I’ve seen ye here and there and have to say, despite yer paternity, I am proud of what ye have become.”

  Without another word, Ruari spun and went back to the horse. He mounted and rode away, not in the direction of the keep, but north to where his mother lived.

  “What again?” His mother gave him a bleary look of someone just awakened. “Go away.”

  “He has returned,” Ruari said, knowing she would understand whom he spoke about. “He is not dead.”

  Blood drained from his mother’s face, her eyes widened, and she gasped. After taking a beat to compose herself, she finally spoke. “Why should it concern me?”

  “Is it true?” Ruari’s voice shook. “I am Robert Ross’ son?”

  This time, she let out a hard breath, her eyes bulging. She pushed at his chest. “I said go away!” she screamed. “Go away!” Lifting trembling hands to her face, she rubbed her eyes and turned her back.

  The subject would not be dropped until he learned the truth. He stalked forward and rounded her. “Tell me.”

  “He should have left her and married me. But he did not. Instead, he tossed me aside. Sent me away.” It was evident she was not speaking to him, but more to herself. “The bastard should have remained. He should have remained and looked the other way. Everyone does that. Everyone has secrets.”

  She continued to babble about secrets until Ruari took her by the shoulders and shook her. It was as if he scalded her skin and she hissed, “Do not touch me.”

  “Is that why ye left me? Because I am Robert’s son? A reminder of yer adultery?”

  His mother came to life, hitting him on the chest with fists and kicking at his legs. “He knew I married his brother to be closer to him. He knew it and when I came to his bed, he allowed me. He used me. So ye are his. Only his. Not mine.”

  Although her logic made no sense, Ruari finally understood. It wasn’t hatred that his mother felt for him. She did not feel as if he were hers to begin with. For some strange reason, the knowledge settled him.

  “I will let ye live in peace and never return.” Ruari walked out the front door. For some reason, he was feeling lighter than he’d ever felt.

  By the time he rode toward home later that day, it was dark. He was much too exhausted to continue. Ruari knew Esme would be angry with him, but he couldn’t bring himself to face anyone. His mother had confirmed the truth. He and his cousins were truly brothers. It was ironic that he and Malcolm had just spoken about how he’d been like a brother to them.

  The true reason must have been that the late laird had not been his uncle but, in fact, his father.

  After pulling his mount to a stop, Ruari walked for a while and then lowered to sit with his back to a tree. Overcome with emotions, Ruari ran h
is hands down his face. Once he rested, he’d return to the keep. Although he would have preferred to remain away for longer, it wouldn’t be fair to Esme.

  He’d keep the truth of his paternity to himself. Better to leave things as they were. There was no reason to bring up the truth of his birth as it mattered not at this juncture. His cousins had always accepted him, and he was an integral part of the family. For that, he was grateful.

  Moments later, the moon helped him stay on the path that lead him back to Dun Airgid, his home.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It was late when he finally trudged into the main house. Very few people were up and about in the great room when Ruari entered. Those who’d decided to remain for the night had found places along the walls and in corners to sleep. Upon noticing light coming from Malcolm’s study, he lumbered there, hoping to find his cousin alone.

  Luck was with him. Malcolm sat at the table reviewing accounting ledgers.

  When Ruari went to the sideboard and poured whisky, his cousin, no, his brother looked up.

  “I would like one as well,” Malcolm said. “Have I told ye I detest reviewing accounts?”

  “Aye, I remember. Ye always made excuses to leave the room when we were tutored.”

  There must have been a strange timbre to his voice because Malcolm studied him with a furrowed brow.

  After accepting the glass, the laird motioned for him to sit. “Where have ye been? Yer wife was worried.”

  The strong liquid formed a heated path down his throat. “I went to see my land and found the place where I would like build. Someone was there. Conor Ross.”

  Malcolm’s brows flew up. “What is he doing here?”

  “Claims to have heard of yer father’s death.” The words stuck in his throat. It was also his father who’d died.

  “Does he wish to remain?”

  Ruari rolled the glass between his hands. “I told him to go.”

  “Father searched for him for years.”

  “I remember.”

  “Did he say why he left? Why was he gone so long?” Malcolm asked.

  Unable to meet Malcolm’s gaze, Ruari focused on the glass between his hands. “Nay, he didn’t say why he left. And I don’t know why he was gone so long.”

  His cousin stood and placed a hand on Ruari’s shoulder. “I cannot dare to know how ye feel. But know that my father loved ye as his own. Ye had no need for Conor Ross.”

  “What ye say is true.” Ruari let out a breath. “I am tired.”

  Guilt that was not his to bear made it hard to think clearly. That the man had lost it all, wife, land and clan, because of a betrayal was not fair. Perhaps it was up to him to do something.

  “Ye should seek yer bed,” Malcolm said. “Yer wife will be glad to see ye.”

  “I would like to discuss this more in the morn.”

  Malcolm nodded.

  As he trudged up the stairs, his body was heavy with the weight of what he’d learned that day.

  *

  Esme was instantly awake when Ruari entered the bedchamber and she sat up. Her husband pushed the door closed behind him and heaved a long sigh.

  “I was worried,” she began, but stopped at noticing he’d yet to lift his head. “Did something happen?”

  Slipping from the bed, she went to her husband.

  The expression on his face when he met her gaze was inexplicable, a collision of anger and something else. It was as if he’d seen something horrible. Something or someone that had pushed Ruari to the edge of madness.

  “Ruari, tell me what happened?” She gasped when he yanked her forward and took her mouth with so much demand, it took her breath.

  “Allow me to fuck ye.” His voice was as gruff and coarse as the words.

  Need surged through her with force, the foreign sensation sending waves of heat through every limb.

  Instead of a reply, she nodded.

  Madness circled them like birds of prey. The sounds of harsh breaths and tearing of clothing filled the air to mix with the aroma of arousal.

  “Ah!” Esme called out when Ruari bent her over the nearest table. She wasn’t sure what he would do, but she did not resist.

  “Spread yer legs for me.” She did as he commanded, her sex constricting with expectation. When he prodded at her entrance, she held her breath only to let out a cry when Ruari thrust in, filling her with one hard push.

  The slaps of their bodies colliding, flesh against flesh and Ruari’s grunts were like music notes to her senses. It was all Esme could do not to lose her grip on the edge of the table while not becoming lost in the moment.

  On he continued, pulling out and driving in, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips.

  With an animalistic growl, he pulled out and then took her into his arms and dropped her on the edge of the bed. “Lay back.” His eyes were dark with arousal, his beautiful body gleaming with perspiration.

  The sight of his aroused state made her want to touch him, but instinctively she knew it would not be welcome. Instead, she lay back. Ruari pulled her legs over his shoulders and then, once again, pressed against her entrance.

  “Take me,” Esme encouraged.

  The lovemaking was not gentle. Once again, he moved in and out of her, each thrust hard and deep. One plunge followed by the next.

  He did not look at her, but straight ahead, seeming lost in the moment, giving his body control.

  On the edge of a crest, Esme arched up, her body contorting as she fought not to lose control. It was inevitable and she screamed as waves of darkness slammed into her. Thrashing without a reason other than the climax was almost as terrifying as it was delicious.

  Ruari had not stopped the sensual assault. His powerful body now out of control, the drives harder and faster, his groans filling their chamber until he began to shake, his release seeming to be as powerful as hers.

  When he fell forward, Ruari was careful not to crush her. Both of them fought for breath, gasping for what little air managed to get into their lungs. Esme’s sex continued of its own will squeezing Ruari’s manhood as if trying to draw every bit of his seed.

  “I cannot breathe,” she finally managed to say, pushing at his shoulder.

  He moved, barely, his broad back shuddering. Esme began to ask that he move again but then stopped at realizing he was crying.

  Unsure what to do, Esme rubbed his back. That her husband had been upset cut through like a fiery blade.

  Whoever had done something to wound him would pay. She waited quietly until he blew out a breath and silently moved fully onto the bed to lay on the pillows. She crawled up from the edge and snuggled against him, placing her head on his shoulder.

  “Whatever happens, I am with ye.” She was glad her voice sounded even, despite the anger at whoever had said or done something that hurt her husband.

  “I saw him today,” he began. His voice was hoarse with emotion. “The man I thought to be my father.”

  “Yer uncle’s brother, who ye thought dead?” Esme scrambled to remember what she knew about the man. Other than him disappearing and Ruari’s mother then leaving him to be raised by his uncle, Ruari had never said anything else.

  “Aye. He was on my land. He claimed to be here after hearing of his brother’s death.”

  Esme remained silent, instinctively knowing Ruari was trying to figure out things as he spoke. His voice was gruff, each word tearing at her heart.

  “He told me that I was not his son. That I was Robert Ross’ bastard. All this time, I thought the laird was my uncle. Now…I am not sure what to think. How to feel. He is dead.”

  Ruari let out a long sigh and met her gaze. “Do not speak of this to anyone. It is best for my cousins not to know.”

  “Mayhap he lied. To explain his absence.”

  His throat moved as he swallowed visibly. “After…after seeing him, I went to speak to my mother. She said it was true. That she’d seduced her husband’s brother, slipped into his bed one night when his
wife was gone. She admitted to having wished to marry him instead of Conor.”

  They lay in silence for a long moment while Esme did her best to soothe his pain away with kisses to his jaw and throat. He leaned his head to hers in response.

  “Malcolm was right.”

  “In what way?” Esme asked.

  “He told me to come to ye. That ye would help calm me.”

  Esme lifted and looked down at him. “Just as I am here for ye, I expect ye to be there for me as well.”

  Ruari nodded and hugged her against his broad chest. The hardness of his body filled her with security and calm.

  *

  Ruari rose early the next day. Leaving a sleeping Esme, he hurried down the stairs. After not finding Malcolm in the great room, he went to the study.

  Malcolm looked up as he walked in. “I am sending a group of men to ensure Conor Ross leaves.”

  Just then, Ewan walked in. He went directly to Ruari and placed a hand on his shoulder, a simple show of support that made Ruari take a sharp breath to steady himself.

  Malcolm held out what looked to be a coin sack. “Give him this. It should be more than a fair price for his portion of the lands. Tell him never to return.”

  “I should go as well,” Ruari said, but Malcolm shook his head.

  “Nay. That man does not deserve to see ye. He abandoned not only ye, but our clan.”

  Ruari wasn’t sure what to say. If he disclosed the truth, that Conor had left after being betrayed by their father, it would only cause pain to Malcolm and his brothers. Nothing good would come of it.

  He shrugged. “Very well.” Then turning to Ewan, he said, “Tell him I am thankful to have been left to live here with my family.”

  With a curious look, Ewan finally nodded.

  After the man left, Malcolm studied him. “Tis for the best, Ruari. He is no longer part of our clan.”

  “What if he had a good reason for leaving? We do not know everything. He could have had a disagreement with…”

  “We should go break our fast,” Malcolm interrupted, obviously doing his best to change the subject. “I am famished. There is much to do today. I require yer help.”