court.
"Ye gods, m'lady. 'Tis good news. Ye are protected against Elise's curse. Ye willnae be shunned by the kinsfolk."
"Shunned?"
"The kin take the curse verra seriously, especially the elders. They would have guarded themselves from becoming fond of ye."
The pressure between her back teeth made her jaw ache. What breed of people shunned a woman because death darkened her door? "Is that why Monroe does not speak to me? Should I expect to be treated in like by the rest of your kin when we reach your homelands?"
Remi patted her hand, obviously sensing her hostility. "Monroe keeps to himself. He is badly scarred and most find it difficult to hold a conversation with him. Plus, he is a big mon. Bigger than the laird. He is quite feared among the kinsfolk."
She knew Laird Kraig scrutinized their every word. That fact didn't prevent her from sharing her opinion. "Your people are shallow minded if they do not converse with their own kin because of his looks and hold no compassion for a woman who is cursed to die. I suspect Cora-Rose is shunned because she fulfilled her duty to provide Clan Kraig with the very heir that has sealed her fate."
Silence was her answer. Repulsed by their backward thinking, Viviana shook her head and felt a strong desire to form a sisterhood with Cora-Rose. "I wonder what manner of man would betroth his daughter to a son of Clan Kraig. Cora-Rose's father must have hated her."
"Nay. Quite the opposite really. Cora-Rose is a MacKaskill, the daughter of our neighboring clan's chieftain. She was scheduled to be whipped and drowned by decree of our good King James for heresy."
Viviana gasped. "Cora-Rose is a witch?"
"She possesses the kenning, the gift of foresight. Those who accused her of black magic were elders and High Priests of the Kirk—leaders in the church," Remi explained. "These men held the ear of King James and presented Laird MacKaskill with a signed affidavit for Cora-Rose's execution nigh two years ago. Laird MacKaskill came to the leaders of our clan in desperation. He offered an alliance in exchange for his daughter's hand in marriage."
"M'laird," she directed her question out the window, "why did you not marry Cora-Rose?"
"Keegan wanted her."
"Your brother saved her from execution?" Viviana thought the situation oddly romantic.
"Aye, he did," Remi provided when Laird Kraig didn't respond. "Clan Kraig needed the alliance and Cora-Rose needed refuge. Since no mon of God has stepped foot on Kraig soil in over a century, Cora-Rose was safe. We had hoped she might put an end to the curse with her gift. Instead, she has become a victim of the curse itself and once again, death awaits her."
"Like Elise." Viviana pointed out, but none responded. These men were as superstitious as Lorenzo. If they believed so strongly in their curse, why did they continue to marry? She leaned closer to the window. "In a hundred years, did your forefathers ever once consider the easiest way to break the curse might be to quit procreating?"
"'Tis easier said than done, sweetling." The arrogance in his words sparked her fury like a flame to dry brush.
"Castration, I'm told, is a simple procedure."
Her comment gained her three sharp intakes of air—one from beside her, one from out her window, and one from the driving seat of the carriage.
"Fortunate for me, I can keep my bollocks intact and enjoy the splendor of our marriage bed without fear of tainting your womb with my cursed seed."
It was her turn to gasp. How dare he? Laird Kraig's openness about such intimacies further infuriated her. "Mayhap I will take a blade to our marriage bed. What think ye to that?" Viviana laced her words with their Scottish burr in an attempt to mock him.
"Ye are a brave woman to threaten me. I suspect I will have to tie ye to the bed to prevent ye from maiming my person."
Viviana eyes widened. Her fingers strangled the threads in her lap. It didn't help that Remi found a great deal of humor in the path their
"Ye gods, m'lady. 'Tis good news. Ye are protected against Elise's curse. Ye willnae be shunned by the kinsfolk."
"Shunned?"
"The kin take the curse verra seriously, especially the elders. They would have guarded themselves from becoming fond of ye."
The pressure between her back teeth made her jaw ache. What breed of people shunned a woman because death darkened her door? "Is that why Monroe does not speak to me? Should I expect to be treated in like by the rest of your kin when we reach your homelands?"
Remi patted her hand, obviously sensing her hostility. "Monroe keeps to himself. He is badly scarred and most find it difficult to hold a conversation with him. Plus, he is a big mon. Bigger than the laird. He is quite feared among the kinsfolk."
She knew Laird Kraig scrutinized their every word. That fact didn't prevent her from sharing her opinion. "Your people are shallow minded if they do not converse with their own kin because of his looks and hold no compassion for a woman who is cursed to die. I suspect Cora-Rose is shunned because she fulfilled her duty to provide Clan Kraig with the very heir that has sealed her fate."
Silence was her answer. Repulsed by their backward thinking, Viviana shook her head and felt a strong desire to form a sisterhood with Cora-Rose. "I wonder what manner of man would betroth his daughter to a son of Clan Kraig. Cora-Rose's father must have hated her."
"Nay. Quite the opposite really. Cora-Rose is a MacKaskill, the daughter of our neighboring clan's chieftain. She was scheduled to be whipped and drowned by decree of our good King James for heresy."
Viviana gasped. "Cora-Rose is a witch?"
"She possesses the kenning, the gift of foresight. Those who accused her of black magic were elders and High Priests of the Kirk—leaders in the church," Remi explained. "These men held the ear of King James and presented Laird MacKaskill with a signed affidavit for Cora-Rose's execution nigh two years ago. Laird MacKaskill came to the leaders of our clan in desperation. He offered an alliance in exchange for his daughter's hand in marriage."
"M'laird," she directed her question out the window, "why did you not marry Cora-Rose?"
"Keegan wanted her."
"Your brother saved her from execution?" Viviana thought the situation oddly romantic.
"Aye, he did," Remi provided when Laird Kraig didn't respond. "Clan Kraig needed the alliance and Cora-Rose needed refuge. Since no mon of God has stepped foot on Kraig soil in over a century, Cora-Rose was safe. We had hoped she might put an end to the curse with her gift. Instead, she has become a victim of the curse itself and once again, death awaits her."
"Like Elise." Viviana pointed out, but none responded. These men were as superstitious as Lorenzo. If they believed so strongly in their curse, why did they continue to marry? She leaned closer to the window. "In a hundred years, did your forefathers ever once consider the easiest way to break the curse might be to quit procreating?"
"'Tis easier said than done, sweetling." The arrogance in his words sparked her fury like a flame to dry brush.
"Castration, I'm told, is a simple procedure."
Her comment gained her three sharp intakes of air—one from beside her, one from out her window, and one from the driving seat of the carriage.
"Fortunate for me, I can keep my bollocks intact and enjoy the splendor of our marriage bed without fear of tainting your womb with my cursed seed."
It was her turn to gasp. How dare he? Laird Kraig's openness about such intimacies further infuriated her. "Mayhap I will take a blade to our marriage bed. What think ye to that?" Viviana laced her words with their Scottish burr in an attempt to mock him.
"Ye are a brave woman to threaten me. I suspect I will have to tie ye to the bed to prevent ye from maiming my person."
Viviana eyes widened. Her fingers strangled the threads in her lap. It didn't help that Remi found a great deal of humor in the path their
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