idea gave her pause. She stopped on the steps, and Fann bumped into her. The stairs were narrow, and she went stumbling down them until someone hooked her around the waist to stop her fall. He lifted her off her feet then set her gently down on the bottom step.
“I hope that is nae a sampling of how adept ye are at traveling, Lady Matheson.”
Gahan’s tone darkened when he spoke her title. It sounded wrong and felt wrong, too. Unconsummated meant the union might be dissolved. Which filled her with happiness.
“Nay…I am normally sure-footed.”
But ye are a deceiver…
The sunlight didn’t quite reach inside the keep yet. She was grateful for the poor light, because she felt her cheeks flushing. The burn increased when she realized Gahan was scowling because he thought she had bedded her husband.
No man had ever been jealous of her.
But he wasn’t jealous, she reminded herself. He was scheming against Bari…
“Good. We need to depart. It will take us most of the day to make MacLeod land.”
“I understood we were bound for Dunrobin,” she said, puzzled.
Gahan hooked his hands into his belt and watched her. He seemed even more formidable today—and disapproving. His harsh expression stung.
“I know who me friends are and will be spending the night on their land. Nae out in the open.”
“Oh, of course.”
He was on guard this morning; his captain stood only a foot from his back. There was a formality that made her long for the man she’d encountered in the darkness. But she would not see him again.
Because ye refused him…
“Yer mistress will need a surcoat,” he said, addressing Fann. “There is still snow at Dunrobin.”
“What do ye have on yer feet?” he asked gruffly.
Moira hesitated to show him her shoes. He and his retainers wore thick, well-made boots that laced over antler-horn buttons up to their knees. They had to be wonderful to wear when the snow was blowing.
“Show me.” His tone rang with authority, and there was no mercy in his expression, only the unrelenting look of a man who was accustomed to being obeyed. She caught the fabric of her overdress and tugged it up.
“My sister’s shoes are nae yer concern,” Bari said from the doorway that opened to the yard.
“They are when I’m taking her north. I’ve no need to hear ye saying she took ill because of me actions. Ye’ve already said far too much about me, and none of it was good. The Sutherlands do nae crave trouble with the Frasers.”
Gahan turned in a flash, the longer back pleats of his kilt whipping up. Bari jerked back, clearly surprised by how fast Gahan moved. Her brother’s lips curled into a snarl.
“Ye’ll stay away from her, bastard.”
“She’s a wed woman now and beyond yer control,” Gahan replied. There was a touch of satisfaction in his voice that clearly enraged Bari.
“Indeed she is wed,” Achaius agreed from behind Bari. “And I’m a good provider for those who are mine.” He pointed at Fann. “Get yer mistress ready. The sunlight is wasting.”
Fann reached for her elbow, but Moira found it hard to turn around. The air was thick with tension. Achaius turned and left, leaving the two men facing off. Bari looked like he might lunge at Gahan.
“Try it,” Gahan taunted. “I’m the one who handed the poison to yer sister Sandra, and I’ll be happy to have ye know it.”
“Ye did what?” Bari screeched.
Gahan shrugged. He reached behind him and pushed Moira up the stairs and out of the way. She gasped, because he seemed so intent on her brother, yet he knew exactly where she was. A pair of Matheson retainers snapped out of their daze and reached down to grab her and lift her several steps above the impending fight.
“I thought it rather fitting. Sandra poisoned me father, so I gave her enough poison to end her own life.”
“That is suicide,” Bari roared. “Ye damned her to hell, ye bastard!”
“That’s where she belongs.”
Bari threw a punch at Gahan’s
“I hope that is nae a sampling of how adept ye are at traveling, Lady Matheson.”
Gahan’s tone darkened when he spoke her title. It sounded wrong and felt wrong, too. Unconsummated meant the union might be dissolved. Which filled her with happiness.
“Nay…I am normally sure-footed.”
But ye are a deceiver…
The sunlight didn’t quite reach inside the keep yet. She was grateful for the poor light, because she felt her cheeks flushing. The burn increased when she realized Gahan was scowling because he thought she had bedded her husband.
No man had ever been jealous of her.
But he wasn’t jealous, she reminded herself. He was scheming against Bari…
“Good. We need to depart. It will take us most of the day to make MacLeod land.”
“I understood we were bound for Dunrobin,” she said, puzzled.
Gahan hooked his hands into his belt and watched her. He seemed even more formidable today—and disapproving. His harsh expression stung.
“I know who me friends are and will be spending the night on their land. Nae out in the open.”
“Oh, of course.”
He was on guard this morning; his captain stood only a foot from his back. There was a formality that made her long for the man she’d encountered in the darkness. But she would not see him again.
Because ye refused him…
“Yer mistress will need a surcoat,” he said, addressing Fann. “There is still snow at Dunrobin.”
“What do ye have on yer feet?” he asked gruffly.
Moira hesitated to show him her shoes. He and his retainers wore thick, well-made boots that laced over antler-horn buttons up to their knees. They had to be wonderful to wear when the snow was blowing.
“Show me.” His tone rang with authority, and there was no mercy in his expression, only the unrelenting look of a man who was accustomed to being obeyed. She caught the fabric of her overdress and tugged it up.
“My sister’s shoes are nae yer concern,” Bari said from the doorway that opened to the yard.
“They are when I’m taking her north. I’ve no need to hear ye saying she took ill because of me actions. Ye’ve already said far too much about me, and none of it was good. The Sutherlands do nae crave trouble with the Frasers.”
Gahan turned in a flash, the longer back pleats of his kilt whipping up. Bari jerked back, clearly surprised by how fast Gahan moved. Her brother’s lips curled into a snarl.
“Ye’ll stay away from her, bastard.”
“She’s a wed woman now and beyond yer control,” Gahan replied. There was a touch of satisfaction in his voice that clearly enraged Bari.
“Indeed she is wed,” Achaius agreed from behind Bari. “And I’m a good provider for those who are mine.” He pointed at Fann. “Get yer mistress ready. The sunlight is wasting.”
Fann reached for her elbow, but Moira found it hard to turn around. The air was thick with tension. Achaius turned and left, leaving the two men facing off. Bari looked like he might lunge at Gahan.
“Try it,” Gahan taunted. “I’m the one who handed the poison to yer sister Sandra, and I’ll be happy to have ye know it.”
“Ye did what?” Bari screeched.
Gahan shrugged. He reached behind him and pushed Moira up the stairs and out of the way. She gasped, because he seemed so intent on her brother, yet he knew exactly where she was. A pair of Matheson retainers snapped out of their daze and reached down to grab her and lift her several steps above the impending fight.
“I thought it rather fitting. Sandra poisoned me father, so I gave her enough poison to end her own life.”
“That is suicide,” Bari roared. “Ye damned her to hell, ye bastard!”
“That’s where she belongs.”
Bari threw a punch at Gahan’s
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