The Highlander's Destiny (Highland Rogues #2) - Mary Wine Page 0,55
doubt there are many who would enjoy watching me be buried next to Malcolm tomorrow morning. Me brother turned McKay against McKay, and I fear there are many wearing me own colors who know no other way of surviving. Spending the day in the laundry would no’ have opened yer eyes to such circumstances.”
“Ye are very, very wrong Faolan. The laundry is where those who were trampled over ended up, at the bottom of the heap. I’m very good at going unnoticed. Such a skill ensures I hear many things.”
They locked stares. Faolan was unwilling to budge a bit, and it stirred her temper. All of the anticipation which had nearly driven her wild transformed into frustration, and she bared her teeth.
“Go on with, ye,” Cora growled. “I will not beg ye. And since ye do nae want me for a wife, ye do nae belong in me bedchamber.”
One of his dark eyebrows rose.
Something snapped inside her. Cora picked up her hairbrush and sent it flying at him.
“Get out!”
Faolan evaded the brush.
“Do nae ye dare touch me again. I am no’ a slut!” Cora reached for a bowl and sent it toward him. The bowl was made of heavy pottery. It hit the door with a huge thunk. A moment later, the door was pulled open.
“Laird?”
“Ye pig! Get out of me bedchamber!” Cora yelled as she bent and picked up a stool.
Faolan’s eyes widened as she lifted the piece of furniture above her head. He turned and dove through the open door as his men shifted out of the way.
Cora growled as she was denied her goal.
“And stay out!”
*
Cora was strong.
Faolan felt the amount of force the stool crashed with.
Aye, and feisty…
He grinned. But there was a very poorly muffled chuckle nearby. He turned his head to see Reece and three other McKay Retainers standing there.
“Ye waited?” It wasn’t the brightest question he might have asked since the answer was obvious.
Reece’s grin faded as his expression hardened. “Aye, Laird. Me and the lads here, we’re right glad to have ye. The McKay needs a man with integrity leading them.”
“So, we’re determined to ensure ye stay healthy.”
Something else smacked the door. Reece titled his head to one side. “As for yer wife, well, ye’ll need to handle her yerself.”
“That will be me pleasure.”
*
“Gilmor, the child is too young to make such a distance with winter beginning.”
Gilmor sent his Aunt Una a hard look intended to make her bend her will to his.
“I’m too old to be intimidated,” Una continued. “For yer plan to succeed, Kalan must be alive. Not dead in a snowstorm. And her sister is barely weaned.”
“Are ye saying we should suffer that bastard Faolan as laird?” Gilmor demanded. “He has slighted me beyond endurance!”
“He has only begun,” Una said in a tired voice. “A new laird will carve his mark. It’s the way things are. If ye seek higher position, best be ready for the turmoil which comes with it.”
Gilmor slammed his tankard down. Kalan had been humming and playing with her doll a few feet away. The little girl drew in a stiff breath before her eyes widened and filled with tears.
“Take care of yer mistress,” Gilmor instructed Mae.
The nurse scooped Kalan up and began to sway gently as she cooed to the child.
“Noreen was born of Laird Grant’s second wife,” Una said. “Cormac, his heir, had a different mother. An English lass. Many of the Grants do not fancy him as their next laird because of that English blood.”
“Yet, he runs the Grants,” Gilmor said.
Una held up a single finger. “In many ways, he does. His half-brother, Lirkin, is the one who brought Noreen for her wedding. He negotiated the dowry and the alliance.”
Gilmor nodded slowly. “He is the man I need to do business with.”
Una smiled. “He might be interested in seeing his niece as heir to the McKay, but this is not England. For a child to hold such a position, there will have to be a majority of captains behind her.”
“I will see to the captains,” he assured his aunt. “You see to the matrons.”
Una smiled. Kalan was happy once again, her nurse having calmed the child perfectly. Una’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the way Kalan’s small hand was holding some of the nurse’s hair. The bond between them was very tight. It was a natural thing, for Mae had raised the child.
Now, such a bond would have to be utilized as a tool, for Kalan was a necessary part of