A Hellion at the Highland Court (The Highland Ladies #9) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,27
make my own wager that he doesn’t show up to his own wedding.”
“That explains why he’s paid attention to her,” Emelie Dunbar mused. “We’ve all wondered why.”
Laurel trembled as she listened, no one yet aware that she’d arrived. She swallowed the sour bile that burned her throat. The weight that took root in her chest pressed every organ, threatening to make her knees buckle as she continued to listen.
“I heard even her brother agreed to the wager,” Emelie’s sister Blythe said. “I can’t believe that. For all Lady Laurel’s faults, her brother is fond of her.”
“Fond of the notion that he can rid himself of her,” Sarah Anne snorted. It was at that moment that Emelie looked up and caught sight of Laurel. Emelie elbowed Blythe, who looked in Laurel’s direction. Mortified, Laurel turned on her heel and ran into a glowering Brodie Campbell. When he moved to help her as she teetered backward, she slapped at his hands.
“Don’t touch me,” Laurel hissed.
“Laurel,” Brodie whispered. Laurel’s eyes narrowed as her nose flared, and Brodie waited with bated breath. If he didn’t feel hideous for what he overheard—and knew Laurel had, too—he would have thought her magnificent. He wondered what was wrong with him that he waited to see what Laurel had to say.
“Dinna speak to me, dinna touch me, dinna come near me,” Laurel spat, uncaring that her brogue had returned with such force that she doubted any Lowlander could understand her. “I didna think the almighty Laird Campbell of Glenorchy would be a roiderbanks, but I should have kenned all along that there is a reason why yer people must grab everything within reach. Ye’re someone living beyond yer means. Why else would ye stoop to such lows as to consider me—the Shrew of Stirling—for a bride? Why pursue me if ye ken that everyone thinks I’m a triptaker? That all I do is find fault with everyone. Ye are naught more than a churlish mumblecrust.” Laurel snapped her mouth shut, having hurled enough insults at Brodie and finishing by calling him a toothless beggar.
“Laurel, I didn’t accept the wager,” Brodie explained.
“But ye kenned of it. And now everyone else does, too. And ye didna try vera hard to disabuse people of the notion that ye refused it. Ye heard them. I’ll give ye the bluidy hundred pounds to be done with ye.” Laurel spoke in anger, but she would part with the hard-earned coin if it meant she never had to look at Brodie Campbell again.
“I dinna want yer coin, Laurel,” Brodie kept his voice low, his own burr slipping back into his words. “That isnae why I’ve paid attention to ye.”
“Och aye. I suppose it was to see what ye could get for free. Ye thought to make a fool of me just as everyone else. I suppose ma brother kens aboot this too.” Laurel feared the rising gorge she fought would soon strangle her.
“Monty and Donnan were there when the wager was suggested. Monty refused to even consider it,” Brodie explained.
“He refused to consider it. Nae ye. Him.” Laurel stepped around Brodie, but his arm swung out and blocked her way. Without thought Laurel spat at his boot. “Ye want something from me. There ye have it. That’s all I’ll ever give ye.”
“And if I wish to give ye ma name, a home in the Highlands where ye didna feel alone, the respect and appreciation ye havenae had?” Brodie asked as his hand settled on Laurel’s waist, holding her place with little pressure.
“I thought ye were different. But ye’re naught. Ye’re worse. Ye're cruel,” Laurel hissed as the first tears fell.
“Why do ye assume I’m lying?” Brodie asked.
Laurel looked back over her shoulder at the crowd of people watching her argue with Brodie. There wasn’t one look of sympathy directed at her. Those who cast a pitying gaze directed it at Brodie, not her. Most watched with morbid fascination. She wished she could slink away, never showing her face again. Laurel turned back to Brodie and shook her head. If she attempted to speak, she would sob instead. She pushed his arm away and mustered as much dignity as she could, holding her head up as she walked toward the doors. She found Monty and Donnan standing there, matching expressions of shock on their faces.
“Fine choice ye’ve made for me,” Laurel snarled as she pushed past her brother and friend. Once in the passageway, she lifted her skirts nearly to her knees and bolted.