unseen traps he might meet pricked him like a patch of nettles. “Do ye care so little for my well being, m’love? I canna believe ye would harden yer heart after taking such fine care of me after the one mishap managed to down me for a while.” His tension increased as he awaited her response. While he wasn’t jealous about the way she loved her father or felt the need to protect him, by damned, she should at least feel a little of that same concern for her own husband.
“Ye know I care that ye’re safe,” she defended quietly, staring down at the floor. She shifted with a half-hearted shrug. “But with Mama gone, Da has no one to worry after him but me.” With another twitch of her shoulder, she looked up and met his gaze. “I want both of ye safe, and I fear if we leave here without finding the monster setting loose these accidents—I fear they’ll do away with Da once we’re gone.”
“Has he ever been threatened inside his own keep before?” Sutherland understood her fears and felt a little foolish for allowing petty jealousy to come between them. Of course, she loved and feared for her father. A man would be a blind fool not to see the closeness the two shared. Sorcha was an only child, reared by devoted parents who cherished her. “Did any of the strange accidents start happening before my arrival?”
Sorcha shook her head. “Not a one.” She took hold of his forearm with both hands and held tight. “The ill-luck started after we announced our betrothal. In fact…” Her scowl tightened. “The first was the blow to yer head. During the fire. Right after we said our vows.”
“And so far…” Sutherland thought back over each and every incident. “I have always been the target.”
“But ye werena targeted before I returned from the village, were ye? Ye were here several days with no mishaps at all, aye?”
“Aye,” he agreed. “Nothing started until after we wed.”
“Then everything still points to Garthin.” Sorcha shook her head. “He is the only rejected suitor still here.”
“It has to be him.” Sutherland licked his thumb and wiped the dried mud from her cheek. “But we need proof,” he said quietly. “My conscience rests easier when I kill men proven of their guilt rather than ones who might be the slightest bit innocent.”
Chapter Ten
She had both looked forward to and dreaded this day. The meeting of Sutherland’s kin. Well, at least two of his brothers, along with their wives. One of his brothers lived on some faraway island with his wife and children because of his occupation as a smuggler and a few poorly chosen alliances. Sorcha very much doubted she would meet that branch of the MacCoinnich clan any time soon.
“Sorcie!”
“What now?” Her sharp tone made Jenny jump back a step.
Guilt for snapping at her made her apologize. “Forgive me, Jenny. What did ye ask?” she repeated in a kinder tone. “I didna catch what ye said.”
“Ye didna catch what I said because ye were too busy wrestling with yer worry demons.” Jenny nudged her as they rounded the great hall for the third time, checking the preparations they had already checked twice before. “All will be fine, Sorcie. Mrs. Breckenridge is fiercer than any war chief and will have the head of anyone who dares to set yer feast awry. Just look at the floors. The dogs have never had such clean flagstones on which to eat their scraps. Ye know ye can count on yer clan to make ye proud.”
“I know, Jenny.” Sorcha wished she could explain it to the girl. She wasn’t worried about a poor showing by the clan. She was worried about making a poor impression herself. These were her husband’s people coming today. And if Sutherland persisted with his plan of making Tor Ruadh their home immediately, life would be a great deal more pleasant if she got on well with his kin. “I just want things to go well. For Sutherland’s sake.” And my own, she silently added.
“Since when have ye worried about folk liking ye?” Jenny’s perception was a great deal sharper than Sorcha gave her credit. “Remember what Mama always told us? ‘Be yer best. Give yer best. And let kindness ever be yer guide. Everything else will follow as it should.’” Jenny winked and nudged her again. “And if it doesna ‘follow as it should,’ to hell with the lot of them!”
Jenny’s slight twisting of