certain?” Barr asked. “We are not the only Chrechte who make this keep our home.”
The blanching of Verica’s skin had only one meaning. She was afraid. His reminder had sparked true disquiet in the other woman. Sabrine refused to add to the clanswoman’s worries.
“I will stay here. I am sorry I did not take the full import of the situation into consideration.” She had only been thinking of herself, of the almost certainty that her raven instincts and feminine desires were about to storm and mayhap destroy her warrior’s defenses. She could fight one, but not both. And never before had her raven’s impulses been at odds with her self-protective behaviors.
Barr shrugged. “You have naught to apologize for.”
“You do not know our clan. You should have been safe in my room.” The sadness in Verica’s demeanor pulled at the heart Sabrine had thought she had long since buried.
“She would be, in the future.” Barr’s scowl did not bode well for those who might oppose him. “I can only effect so much change at once.”
“But you do wish to effect it?” Verica confirmed.
“Aye.”
“When the pretty lady leaves, can my mum sleep in your room, laird?” Brigit asked.
Silence descended like darkness after a long sunset. For several beats of Sabrine’s heart, no one moved, no one spoke. Brigit looked at her laird with trusting innocence, at odds with the implication of her question.
Verica watched him, too, but with a wary hope that hurt Sabrine to see. This clan had been under the power of a petty tyrant too long.
Barr’s expression did not alter, but the heat coming off of him increased tenfold and the sense of impending danger surrounding him became acute. A tic started in his jaw, but he kept the rest of his features in a neutral repose as he turned to face Brigit fully. He dropped to his knee in front of the girl, his attention fixed almost entirely on her—almost because there was a tendril of connection between him and Sabrine even when he was not looking at her, even as he was so clearly furiously thinking of something else. “Is your mum in need of my protection, child?”
Again that fear hung around Brigit like dying prey as she apparently realized her question might have given her mother’s secret away.
“Me and Mum are strong.” Brigit’s words spoken with a quivering lip and pleading voice about broke Sabrine’s rapidly waking heart. Coming among these people would carry consequences she had not anticipated and that she feared would be long lasting.
Barr nodded, his expression somber, that tic in his jaw increasing in tempo. “Aye, you are. You’ve managed well without your da, but you understand I am your laird?”
Tugging on a hank of her cinnamon-colored hair, Brigit nodded.
Barr made a noise of satisfaction, like the girl’s acknowledgment had pleased him. “’Tis my job to protect you in his place.”
Instead of looking comforted, the girl’s face crumpled. “Mum says no one can help her, but she’ll not let anything happen to me.”
“She loves you as she should, but you love her, too.”
“I do.” Brigit nodded so vigorously the tears standing in her eyes spilled down her cheeks.
Barr growled so low only Sabrine’s Chrechte hearing allowed her to hear it. His wolf was more than furious: the sound was one of bloodletting. But when he spoke, the laird’s voice was soft, almost gentle. “I know you are worried about her, but I will take care of the problem now.”
“You give your solemn oath?” Brigit asked, so clearly still torn.
“I do.”
Verica’s heart rate increased, her expression showing both fear and hope. The healer wanted her laird to protect her apprentice’s mother, but she was obviously unsure he could do so.
Barr looked at the healer, measurement in his gaze. Finally, he nodded as if giving her an oath as well.
Her eyes widened and then she smiled, the expression natural and saturated with relief.
“Fetch Earc and your brother.”
The woman nodded, determination and purpose setting her face in almost harsh lines, before curtsying and leaving to do just that.
Barr laid his hand on the child’s shoulder. “Come and tell me the story that had you laughing earlier.”
Like Sabrine and Verica earlier, the laird apparently realized that taxing the child for answers would not be fair. Brigit had promised her mother and forcing her to break that promise would be dishonorable.
Whatever else this Faol might be, he was no bully and he clearly had honor.
“Did you really train Cathal and Lais alongside Muin today?” the child asked,