wrong?”
Bryce poured another four fingers of whisky. “I’m too agitated to sit.”
“And if ye keep pouring Scotch down yer throat ye will be too bloody drunk to stand in yer red plaid boxers.” Creighton, the eldest of the three brothers, pointed to the hearth. “Sit yer arse down and talk.” The oldest sat, making room for his youngest sibling between him and Ronan.
Bryce’s arse had no sooner hit the stones than he was up and pacing the den. “Funny ye should mention breast pumps.” He was blessed with brothers he could discuss anything with.
“Bloody hell!” Ronan slapped his forehead. “He’s gotten someone pregnant.”
“Nay!” Bryce whirled, and the room did a little spin itself. “I
had
a woman pregnant.” He jabbed his thumb against his bare chest. “
Me
woman! Neither one of us knew it, but when I broke things off with Kenzie, she was carrying me bairn.”
Creighton, the tallest, stood. “What happened?” Danger dripped from his short question. As an expectant father and an indulgent uncle, the laird had a soft spot for children. “Did she tell ye when she found out?”
“Nay.” Bryce shook his head. “She has her pride as all good Scots do. I’d told her I couldna love her as much as I did the memory of Miranda. Me stupidity tore her to the core of her being.”
Ronan stood and walked toward the alcohol cabinet. He topped off all three of their glasses before he placed the decanter within the cupboard and turned the key, slipping it into the pocket of his jeans, a silent signal the drinking for the night had stopped.
“So her pride kept her from revealing the news to ye?” Creighton’s thick eyebrows rose. “Women can be stubborn as hell; I’m only finding that out meself. Did she try to pass the bairn off as Duncan’s?”
Bryce drained what little tipple remained. “Nay. Ye ken Kenzie canna lie. When Duncan showed interest in her, she told him she was pregnant.” He waved an open hand through the air. “Och, he was a charmer, he was. Promised to love the child as if it were his. Then two weeks after their wedding, he got drunk and beat it from her.” Bryce hurled the empty tumbler against the paneled wall. The shattering of glass echoed about the room.
“Me bairn! Motherfucker killed me bairn! He beat Kenzie until she hemorrhaged.”
Both brothers muttered long, deadly curses before encircling him in a hug of muscle and brawn for a couple minutes to offer comfort. Finally they separated.
“So, she’s had two bairns taken from her through violence?” Ronan ran his fingers through his long hair as he sat on the corner of Creighton’s massive desk. “My God, who supported her emotionally after all that? If Bryce didna know, did anyone? Did she endure it all alone?” Ronan glanced at Bryce with compassion. “Can she have any more children?”
“The doctors dinna think so, or so she confessed after she told me of the abuse she’d endured at that feckin’ bastard’s hands. I’d taken her to her apartment to help move her to Effie’s. I couldna figure out why she didna want me to come in.” He turned his back to his brothers and with his hands fisted against the wall, shook his head. “ ʼ Twas a depressing sight, her place was. She barely had any furniture, but there were pictures she’d painted hung at the oddest of places. When I took one down, I found a hole. A fist-sized hole. After I’d revealed all the evidence of the fighting and demanded to know why she never came to me fer help, she told me the entirety of it all.”
Creighton pivoted toward Ronan. “Text Mum. Tell her to quietly excuse herself and come here.”
“I’m not a mumma’s boy, dammit.” As the youngest, Bryce and his mum did share a special bond. At times, it embarrassed him.
“Nay, but we are a family. When one of us hurts, we all hurt.” Creighton checked his watch. “It’s time to take Effie home and get me wife to bed. I’ll check in when we get back. I ken how ye
Bryce poured another four fingers of whisky. “I’m too agitated to sit.”
“And if ye keep pouring Scotch down yer throat ye will be too bloody drunk to stand in yer red plaid boxers.” Creighton, the eldest of the three brothers, pointed to the hearth. “Sit yer arse down and talk.” The oldest sat, making room for his youngest sibling between him and Ronan.
Bryce’s arse had no sooner hit the stones than he was up and pacing the den. “Funny ye should mention breast pumps.” He was blessed with brothers he could discuss anything with.
“Bloody hell!” Ronan slapped his forehead. “He’s gotten someone pregnant.”
“Nay!” Bryce whirled, and the room did a little spin itself. “I
had
a woman pregnant.” He jabbed his thumb against his bare chest. “
Me
woman! Neither one of us knew it, but when I broke things off with Kenzie, she was carrying me bairn.”
Creighton, the tallest, stood. “What happened?” Danger dripped from his short question. As an expectant father and an indulgent uncle, the laird had a soft spot for children. “Did she tell ye when she found out?”
“Nay.” Bryce shook his head. “She has her pride as all good Scots do. I’d told her I couldna love her as much as I did the memory of Miranda. Me stupidity tore her to the core of her being.”
Ronan stood and walked toward the alcohol cabinet. He topped off all three of their glasses before he placed the decanter within the cupboard and turned the key, slipping it into the pocket of his jeans, a silent signal the drinking for the night had stopped.
“So her pride kept her from revealing the news to ye?” Creighton’s thick eyebrows rose. “Women can be stubborn as hell; I’m only finding that out meself. Did she try to pass the bairn off as Duncan’s?”
Bryce drained what little tipple remained. “Nay. Ye ken Kenzie canna lie. When Duncan showed interest in her, she told him she was pregnant.” He waved an open hand through the air. “Och, he was a charmer, he was. Promised to love the child as if it were his. Then two weeks after their wedding, he got drunk and beat it from her.” Bryce hurled the empty tumbler against the paneled wall. The shattering of glass echoed about the room.
“Me bairn! Motherfucker killed me bairn! He beat Kenzie until she hemorrhaged.”
Both brothers muttered long, deadly curses before encircling him in a hug of muscle and brawn for a couple minutes to offer comfort. Finally they separated.
“So, she’s had two bairns taken from her through violence?” Ronan ran his fingers through his long hair as he sat on the corner of Creighton’s massive desk. “My God, who supported her emotionally after all that? If Bryce didna know, did anyone? Did she endure it all alone?” Ronan glanced at Bryce with compassion. “Can she have any more children?”
“The doctors dinna think so, or so she confessed after she told me of the abuse she’d endured at that feckin’ bastard’s hands. I’d taken her to her apartment to help move her to Effie’s. I couldna figure out why she didna want me to come in.” He turned his back to his brothers and with his hands fisted against the wall, shook his head. “ ʼ Twas a depressing sight, her place was. She barely had any furniture, but there were pictures she’d painted hung at the oddest of places. When I took one down, I found a hole. A fist-sized hole. After I’d revealed all the evidence of the fighting and demanded to know why she never came to me fer help, she told me the entirety of it all.”
Creighton pivoted toward Ronan. “Text Mum. Tell her to quietly excuse herself and come here.”
“I’m not a mumma’s boy, dammit.” As the youngest, Bryce and his mum did share a special bond. At times, it embarrassed him.
“Nay, but we are a family. When one of us hurts, we all hurt.” Creighton checked his watch. “It’s time to take Effie home and get me wife to bed. I’ll check in when we get back. I ken how ye
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