Kenzie’s spine before he, too, turned and followed Ben and the others into the castle.
Chapter 13
Ben stood behind his desk, watching as his clansman and Evan Grant wiped their bloody noses and cut brows. The Laird of Grant entered the room and stood behind his son, arms crossed and silent. “I want to know what this is about. And I want the truth.”
“Evan Grant thought it would be appropriate to insult ye guest, Laird Ross. Not that I like to speak ill of a woman, but Lady Athol was also quite scathing in her remarks about Miss Kenzie.”
Anger thrummed through his blood at the thought of Kenzie being degraded by anyone, especially other guests he’d made welcome at his keep. “Is that true?” He levelled his glare on Evan Grant and was pleased to see the man shift uncomfortably on his feet. Good, he wanted him to take pause, for he wouldn’t stand for it.
“Yer man lies, but with the looks that Bruce has been sending yer pretty visitor, Kenzie ’tis any wonder he’d say such things. He wants her for himself, and if he can get ye to believe she’s a whore, sleeps with any one of yer men, then you’ll likely leave her be.”
Bruce stormed across the room, and thankfully, the few guards he had standing at the back of the solar stopped the men from trying to kill each other again. “Ye lie, ye bastard. You’re the one, along with yer sister, who said the Kenzie, was a strumpet, no doubt keeping many a bed warm and not only the laird’s. That it was a disgrace for the lass to be here, anywhere near the future laird Alasdair, so tarnished is the woman’s reputation.”
Ben’s eye twitched at the insult to Kenzie. “It would be unwise for Clan Grant to say such things about a woman who’s a relative to Clan Macleod and close confidant to Gwendolyn Macleod.”
Evan shook his head. “Why would we say such things? We have no reason. We’re here as yer guests. You have my nephew upstairs—the future for both our clans. Our whole reason for coming to Castle Ross was to mend the rift between our two great houses. Why would we insult ye by saying such things? ’Tis not a sensible move.”
Ben leaned over his desk, levelling both men with his thunderous gaze. “’Twould be unwise for what either of ye are saying to be true. Kenzie neither deserves to be ogled like a piece of meat by my men, nor does she deserve the censure and degradation by a clan that is here as my guest. And, if I hear of any such whisperings or see any slights in her direction, whoever that may be, they shall meet the end of my blade.”
The Laird Grant stepped forward, clasping his son’s shoulder when Even went to say something further. ’Twas lucky the laird had some sense when it came to his beloved boy.
“Apologies, Ben. While I’m unaware as to who speaks the truth, know that no further insult will be made, if my clan has, in fact, insulted the lass, Kenzie. ’Twill not happen again.”
The Laird Grant pushed his son toward the door and left Ben and Bruce alone. Ben dismissed the guards. “Sit, Bruce,” he said, taking his own seat behind the desk. “Explain. Now.”
Bruce ran a hand over his jaw, wiping the blood that had pooled on his chin on his tunic. “I heard them with my own ears. Whispering in the great hall. I was busy with a kitchen maid near the alcove, not far from the fire, and I heard them as clear as I hear ye now. The kitchen lass heard their slander, too. I would not lie about such a thing. And I dinna look at Kenzie in that way. Ye know I like May and wish to marry her.”
Ben hadn’t known Bruce was as serious as he seemed to be toward the servant, and it cooled the hot and molten temper that had burned within him at the thought of his clansmen wishing to tup the woman he himself had become infatuated with. Actually, who he cared for more than any other, even Aline or Gwendolyn.
“I’m glad to hear it, Bruce, and of course yer words ring truer than those of Clan Grant’s. Ye are my clansman, a brother to me, and I know when ye are telling the truth and when you’re not. And Clan Grant are lying out of their asses.”
“Aye, they are.