Page 84 of Stealing Sophie
His eyes were piercing. “That is not an issue any longer. You know that.”
“So you knew,” she went on, hardly listening, “and you thought that marrying the heiress to Duncrieff and Clan Carran would improve your circumstances. You are no better than Campbell. Painted with the same brush!”
“Enough,” he said sharply. “I gave my word. I kept it. That is all of it.”
“Why did you not tell me about my brother then?”
“How could I?” he demanded, taking her shoulder. “How could I tell you when I had just stolen you off, wedded you, bedded you? I am not so cruel as that, though you may think it. I do not know if it is true. It is still just rumor,” he growled. “And I mean to prove it one way or the other. If he is alive, I will bring him back.”
She looked up at him, breath heaving, tears blurring her vision. “Then prove it! You put my brother in prison. So prove it wrong, Connor MacPherson, and bring him home!” She stomped away, went to the door, flung it open, ran down the steps.
She did not know where to go. Glendoon was not her home, not now. Not ever.
Racing downward, she headed for the wild garden to seek solace.
