feared he wouldn’t accept me. Foolish probably.”
“We all told you he’d be pleased. Even Magnus told you he would accept you. He told you that a year ago, Thorn. Finally, you see the right of it.” Nari took the next bundle of grass and tied it to the frame, using a double knot before tying it around one more time to make sure it wouldn’t slip from its spot.
“This judgment coming from the man who’s never told any lass he’s interested in her. What are you waiting for?” He couldn’t read Nari’s mind, and the man knew how to keep things to himself. If he were to guess, he had his eye on someone, only Thorn had no idea who.
“I haven’t found the right lass.” Nari turned away from him quickly, and Thorn knew why. Aye, he admired someone, but he wasn’t willing to say who, and he didn’t wish to lie to Thorn’s face. Next his friend would change the subject, as he always did when they discussed the possibility of marriage for him. “I wonder what they’re having at supper this eve? Aunt Kyla seasons the best venison stew ever. I heard they caught a nice stag earlier this week.”
Thorn snorted.
“What?”
“You changed the subject like you always do.”
“I did not.”
“Aye, you change the subject whenever we talk about a subject that’s distasteful to you. Marriage. Our sires.”
Nari sighed, a sound deep from his toes, so sad that Thorn regretted asking his question. “Never mind, Nari.”
“I do change the subject whenever someone brings up our sires. But you know why. We’ve said the same over and over again. Why discuss it again? I miss my da. Aye, I wish I knew where he was or what had ever happened to him, but we looked for them when we were younger, when the trail was fresh. Loki knew where to look and what to ask, yet we found nothing. ’Tis time to accept both our sires are dead. ’Twas too many years ago.”
Thorn caught the next bundle of grass tossed up to him by Osbern, one of the nosiest warriors in Clan Grant. If he was nearby, he’d overhear your entire conversation and share it with someone else, changing it just enough to make you look like a fool.
“What was that about your sires? Died in the dungeons after getting caught stealing?”
“You heard wrong, Osbern,” Thorn said. “Keep your ears on conversations directed at you and away from ours.”
“You think I heard wrong, do you? Well, I know you were worried that Connor Grant would refuse your suit of his daughter Claray. The only reason he’s allowing an orphan to get near her is because she’s not of his blood.” Osbern spat into his hands before he tied the next bundle.
Nari mumbled, “He’s disgusting.”
“What’d you say, orphan?” Osbern tossed a stone at Nari that he easily dodged.
“Mind your own conversation, not ours.”
Magnus bellowed, “Osbern, meet me over by the big oak tree.”
Thorn almost laughed. Magnus, one of the main leaders in the lists because he had been second to Jake, the lairds’ brother who had died, didn’t tolerate sass or shite.
Osbern cursed under his breath, then dropped his bundle and left. But not before tossing another rude comment over his shoulder. “Make any mistakes around Connor Grant, and he’ll get rid of you quickly. He doesn’t accept anything but the best in the lists.” Eyes gleaming with malice, he added, “He’s even more exacting for his daughters. Take it from one who’s lived here all his life, the laird has no tolerance for mistakes.”
“Your life is about to be cut short if you don’t move your arse over here faster than you’re moving your mouth, Osbern.” Magnus’s bellow had all of them flinching.
A few minutes later, Osbern jumped on his horse and left.
He never looked back, but Nari said, “Ignore him, Thorn. You know Connor is not like that.”
He did know that, but leave it to Osbern to stir his insecurities. He wanted to make Connor proud, to conduct himself in such a way that the great man welcomed his marriage to Claray. But as much as he wanted that to happen, the thought filled him with doubt and worry. When he was young, he’d dreamed of being a warrior just like Connor Grant—tall, strong warrior, handsome, kind.
He was only sure he had the one quality of kindness.
Would that be enough for Claray and her father?
Chapter Five
Claray woke up with a smile on her face the next day. She hadn’t