As they drew closer to Bloody Bay, Logan said, “I think I’ll go alone.” Logan was bull-headed and stubborn, they all knew it. But this would not happen. Broc glanced over at Alaric, who gave him a subtle shake of his head.
As if he had eyes in the back of his head, he declared, “Don’t tell me what to do, lads. I know my way around. I’ve got a bit more experience than you two together.”
Broc couldn’t argue that. The man had to be nearly in his seventh decade, yet he was still built like a bull. True, his long hair had turned gray, but the eyes still saw all. He had the mind of a twenty-summer-old and an uncanny sense of the world that no one else had. And his shoulders were still massive.
Logan Ramsay had been known as the beast for years. He still was a beast in Broc’s eyes. But he was not invincible. He couldn’t go alone for good reason. Now Broc had to convince him.
Broc said, “Nay, Logan. One of us must go with you. We’re the ones who saw Kelvan, not you.”
Logan side-eyed him with a smirk. “Fine. You two decide.”
Logan turned around once the group approached Mingary Castle. “Who’s joining me?”
Broc said, “I’ll come with you.”
Alaric said, “I’ll stay with the boat. I didn’t get a clear look at Kelvan at MacLean’s. But if I don’t see either one of you within half the hour, I’ll be coming inside.”
Logan snorted. “This will take less than that. I just need to find out who the hell is running this operation.”
“Who would be running it besides K?” Alaric asked.
“I need to know exactly who his wife is. I have to look the bitch in the eye. If she’s a Buchan, I’ll know it. She’ll look daft, trust me. Those Buchans are not the brightest in the land. They have those wild eyes, the kind you don’t wish to meet in battle because you can never guess their next move.”
Broc looked over at Alaric before questioning the elder who used to be a spy for Scotland’s king. “But we know who she is. Didn’t he tell you his wife was Glenna of Buchan?”
“He did.” Logan climbed out of the boat with Broc, the two pulling the hull up onto the beach. “But until I see the woman for myself, I won’t believe she’s here. I need to look her in the eye. I was there when your grandsire put his sword in Glenn’s belly. That bastard deserved what he got and more.”
“Uncle,” Broc said, using the term they all did on occasion. “Will you ask who she’s after most?”
Alaric added, “Aye, I’d like to know that too. It could be Uncle Connor, or Alasdair, or Jamie.”
Broc said, “Or my parents.”
Logan stopped and stared at Broc. “You are correct, I’m afraid. Finlay saved Kyla and killed Simon de La Porte. Your grandsire put the sword in Glenn’s belly, so it could be any Grant.”
“But Davina married my uncle Fergus.”
“And they have bairns, from what I heard, but all girls. Glenn also had a son who never fought. One he kept hidden with his brother. I just learned of him, so this must be his youngest daughter. She would be Glenn’s granddaughter, if I’m correct. I’m going in.”
Logan led the way around the castle to the front gate where the drawbridge was down, Broc alongside him, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. They approached the keep, and the door opened as soon as they came near. The man motioned for them to enter the chamber at the end of the hall.
Logan strode inside the nearly empty building, his eyes straight ahead, while Broc took in everything about the castle—the layout, the number of servants, any stray weaponry. He didn’t see any guards beyond the front gate. The place look deserted.
Once inside the chamber, Broc recognized the man seated as the one they’d seen at MacClane’s. This was definitely Shealee’s sire.
The man smirked but said nothing, tipping his head to the woman who stood over his shoulder. “My wife, Glenna. And who is the man you have with you? Grant or Ramsay?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Logan snapped back. “What the hell do you want? Don’t you know enough to quit yet? Now that we are on the Isle of Mull, you have no chance of overtaking the entire isle. We can have a thousand soldiers within a sennight, and you know it.”
“Who says we want anything?” Glenna asked, a sly grin covering her face. Her brown hair was pulled back into a tight plait, and she wore gems around her neck and on nearly every finger. Her gown was well made with intricate lace and a tight bosom, showing off her assets.
Logan was totally disinterested.
Broc’s mother and father had fought hard against Simon de la Porte and Glenn of Buchan, who had terrorized their clan and Clan Ramsay for many moons.
The two had captured and beaten Kyla until she was near death, but she was strong like her father and fought to survive. Alex had been the one to end Buchan’s reign of terror by thrusting his sword into the bastard’s belly, Finlay there as witness along with Logan. Kyla had married Finlay shortly after being given their freedom.
“If you are related to Glenn of Buchan, you’ll want something. He was always wanting what wasn’t his. Had he not, he may have lived a bit longer.”
