tell her laird what he needs to know to lead and protect this clan.”
“And who will protect us when he’s gone? Not you; you’re leaving.” She made it sound like an accusation.
And he did not understand why. Earc had no intention of leaving the clan while his warrior’s strength and skills were still needed.
“By the time Barr returns to the Sinclairs, your brother and his soldiers will be up to the task.”
“And if he leaves before then?” She was clearly in earnest.
However, what she proposed was foolishness. “He’ll not abandon this clan.”
“He might not have a choice.”
Sorcha nodded, but did not say anything.
“What do you mean?” Earc demanded.
Pain showed for a moment before Verica’s features set in determined lines. “Do you think my father wanted to leave this clan in Rowland’s hands?”
“Barr is not going to die while out hunting.” In truth, Earc found it odd that Verica’s father had done so. Few animals could best a Chrechte wolf and only then when it was injured or exhausted. Perhaps Verica’s father had been both. “There is no beast powerful or cunning enough to get the better of Barr.”
“My father believed the same, even after my mother warned him. Treachery does not need superior strength, or even cunning . . . it just needs trust.” Terrible grief showed for a moment before Verica’s features set in determined lines.
“Barr trusts no one in this place but me.”
If he thought that truth would offend her, he was wrong. Contrary woman. She looked relieved.
Sorcha just stared at them both, eyes rounded, her nerves scenting the air around them.
Brigit came bustling back into the cottage just then, her arms filled with lavender. She rushed to the small alcove without a word to anyone.
Circin smiled indulgently in her direction before turning to face Earc. “Rowland was headed toward the cottage when he saw Brigit and I. He turned and headed the other direction.” Circin scowled. “Brigit told me thank you.”
He turned a searching look on Sorcha and her face crumpled. Tears welled and she fled the room, escaping to the area behind a partial wall. He assumed it was where she slept as there was no sign of a bed anywhere else. After a frustrated glance at both men, Verica followed, wringing her hands as she hurried after the other woman.
Circin looked at Earc. “What did I say?”
Earc shrugged. He thought maybe the young warrior had forced Sorcha to acknowledge something she would rather pretend had not been happening. He could not be sure without verification, but he thought he could guess what had been going on. Rowland had taken advantage of his role as laird and Sorcha’s widowhood, had maybe even caused it.
The thought of another Chrechte warrior preying on those weaker than him made the bile rise in Earc’s throat. He wanted to kill Rowland. The former laird was a blight on the Chrechte heritage.
“Should I apologize?” Circin asked.
“For what?”
“Hurting her feelings.”
“You are not the one hurting her.”
“But—”
“If you are to be laird one day and don’t want your position denied you by Scotland’s Sassenach-loving king, you will learn to accept the consequences of truth.”
Circin shot a glance to the dividing wall and then to where Brigit was busy in her small alcove, the scent of lavender wafting through the cottage. “I made her dam cry.”
The boy had sixteen summers, but he was so young. “You did not make the woman weep; ’tis the situation in which she finds herself.”
“What exactly is going on?”
“She’ll tell her laird tomorrow.” Until then, Earc would keep his speculation to himself. They were harsh accusations to make, the kind that ended in someone’s death.
Circin nodded. “If she’d done that when Barr first took over our clan, I think we’d have had a month’s less time of Rowland’s insufferable presence.”
“She didna trust him. She had no way of knowing Barr is a different sort of man.” And damn Rowland for making the woman have to wonder. “Though she has had a month to figure that out.”
“It’s not that simple,” Verica said quietly as she joined them in front of the fire. “She and Brigit have gone to bed, though I’ll wager Sorcha will not sleep this night.”
“’Tis not seemly for a woman to wager,” Circin teased.
And received a cuff to his head for his efforts. “I’ll show you seemly.”
“You’ll show him more respect than that if you want this clan to accept him as laird one day,” Earc said dryly.
Showing she knew a tease when she heard one, Verica