like an arrogant warrior with no sense of tact?”
“Is that how I’ve been acting?” Were warriors supposed to be polite weaklings in her mind?
“Yes.”
“Then, probably.”
Circin barked out a laugh and Earc turned to him. The youth quickly clamped his jaw shut, but humor lurked in his eyes.
“I will remember your laughter tomorrow during training.”
Circin blanched with satisfying speed, but his beautiful sister made the sound of a pot boiling over. “You dare to threaten my brother? Do you forget that one day he will be your laird?”
“He’ll never be my laird,” Earc informed her with absolute certainty.
“Barr promised he would relinquish the clan leadership on or before Circin’s twenty-fifth year. Do you say he lied?” She was determined to make him angry.
But he would not be drawn. “My leader would never lie, even to get a harping female over her unjustified upset.”
“Did you just call me a harpy?”
The air around them simmered with her fury. It was a welcome change over Sorcha’s fear. Even the cook seemed more intent on the exchange between them than her own predicament at the moment.
“I believe the point here is that Earc does not intend to stay with the Donegal clan after his friend steps down from his role as laird,” Circin inserted before Earc could answer.
Verica stiffened and turned an unreadable expression on him. “Is that what you meant?”
“Aye. Mostly. Once Barr moves Circin into second-in-command, it is likely I will return to my place with the Sinclairs.”
“What place is that?”
“A Sinclair warrior.” It was all he had ever wanted to be.
“You will not consider staying?” Circin asked with a sidelong glance at his sister.
Earc shrugged. No one knew what the future might bring. A year ago, he would have sworn he would never leave his clan. “It’s at least a few years off and not worthy of proper consideration right now.”
Verica nodded as if he’d been speaking to her. “I agree. The important consideration right now is convincing Sorcha she should accept the guard her laird has assigned.”
“You will not defy your laird’s orders,” Earc told Sorcha.
That settled, he turned to Circin. “You and I will sleep near the door. Verica can share the bed with Sorcha and Brigit.”
Verica made that sound again, the one that indicated she was not pleased. But Earc did not make the mistake of asking her what was wrong. He’d always found women difficult to understand and she was worse than all the others.
Too bad she made him burn. His time among the Donegals was turning into a torturous test of his self-control.
“I have my own bed; my da made it,” Brigit said.
Earc smiled down at her. “Did he now?”
“It’s there.” She pointed to a small alcove off the wall beside the fire.
The love she had for her dead father shone in the girl’s eyes. Earc didn’t know how the man had died, but from Sorcha’s dissembling he could guess. The wild beast had been a not-so-wild wolf. One of his brethren.
Rage boiled in his veins at the prospect of a Chrechte behaving so.
“I will not impose on Sorcha at your say so,” Verica declared. “I can make a pallet on the floor.”
“I won’t hear of it,” Sorcha replied, her clan hospitality coming to the forefront. “If you are all intent on staying, my daughter will share my sleeping area and the healer will take Brigit’s bed.” Though she was responding to Verica’s comments, she directed her words to Earc.
Earc could see by the tightening of her features that this annoyed the tantalizing healer.
“I will freshen the bedding with lavender,” Brigit declared before rushing from the cottage.
“Accompany her,” Earc instructed Circin, who was already headed for the door.
Sorcha gave a fond shake of her head. “She’s that enamored of you,” she said to Verica.
“She’s a wonderful apprentice.”
“I wanted her to wait a couple of years, at least until she was thirteen
“Is that how I’ve been acting?” Were warriors supposed to be polite weaklings in her mind?
“Yes.”
“Then, probably.”
Circin barked out a laugh and Earc turned to him. The youth quickly clamped his jaw shut, but humor lurked in his eyes.
“I will remember your laughter tomorrow during training.”
Circin blanched with satisfying speed, but his beautiful sister made the sound of a pot boiling over. “You dare to threaten my brother? Do you forget that one day he will be your laird?”
“He’ll never be my laird,” Earc informed her with absolute certainty.
“Barr promised he would relinquish the clan leadership on or before Circin’s twenty-fifth year. Do you say he lied?” She was determined to make him angry.
But he would not be drawn. “My leader would never lie, even to get a harping female over her unjustified upset.”
“Did you just call me a harpy?”
The air around them simmered with her fury. It was a welcome change over Sorcha’s fear. Even the cook seemed more intent on the exchange between them than her own predicament at the moment.
“I believe the point here is that Earc does not intend to stay with the Donegal clan after his friend steps down from his role as laird,” Circin inserted before Earc could answer.
Verica stiffened and turned an unreadable expression on him. “Is that what you meant?”
“Aye. Mostly. Once Barr moves Circin into second-in-command, it is likely I will return to my place with the Sinclairs.”
“What place is that?”
“A Sinclair warrior.” It was all he had ever wanted to be.
“You will not consider staying?” Circin asked with a sidelong glance at his sister.
Earc shrugged. No one knew what the future might bring. A year ago, he would have sworn he would never leave his clan. “It’s at least a few years off and not worthy of proper consideration right now.”
Verica nodded as if he’d been speaking to her. “I agree. The important consideration right now is convincing Sorcha she should accept the guard her laird has assigned.”
“You will not defy your laird’s orders,” Earc told Sorcha.
That settled, he turned to Circin. “You and I will sleep near the door. Verica can share the bed with Sorcha and Brigit.”
Verica made that sound again, the one that indicated she was not pleased. But Earc did not make the mistake of asking her what was wrong. He’d always found women difficult to understand and she was worse than all the others.
Too bad she made him burn. His time among the Donegals was turning into a torturous test of his self-control.
“I have my own bed; my da made it,” Brigit said.
Earc smiled down at her. “Did he now?”
“It’s there.” She pointed to a small alcove off the wall beside the fire.
The love she had for her dead father shone in the girl’s eyes. Earc didn’t know how the man had died, but from Sorcha’s dissembling he could guess. The wild beast had been a not-so-wild wolf. One of his brethren.
Rage boiled in his veins at the prospect of a Chrechte behaving so.
“I will not impose on Sorcha at your say so,” Verica declared. “I can make a pallet on the floor.”
“I won’t hear of it,” Sorcha replied, her clan hospitality coming to the forefront. “If you are all intent on staying, my daughter will share my sleeping area and the healer will take Brigit’s bed.” Though she was responding to Verica’s comments, she directed her words to Earc.
Earc could see by the tightening of her features that this annoyed the tantalizing healer.
“I will freshen the bedding with lavender,” Brigit declared before rushing from the cottage.
“Accompany her,” Earc instructed Circin, who was already headed for the door.
Sorcha gave a fond shake of her head. “She’s that enamored of you,” she said to Verica.
“She’s a wonderful apprentice.”
“I wanted her to wait a couple of years, at least until she was thirteen
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