Page 9 of The Lady's Guide to a Highlander’s Heart
Nodding to Maggie, who’d come round to see what the fussing was, he turned on his heel, leaving the two women alone again with the cattle.
“Och, Florrie!” Maggie shook her head, tutting gravely. “This means only one thing, ye ken.”
Flora was also in little doubt.
As she’d anticipated, the laird was used to having his way with any woman who took his fancy and, today, it happened to be her. A strange thrill passed through her, shivering the hairs on her arms and causing a disturbing ache deep within her belly.
Had the time truly come?
Would she now get close enough to take her revenge?
Chapter 5
Later that day…
Flora stoodoutside Ragnall’s private chamber with two pails of milk. The dirk, retrieved from her bedding, hung heavy in her pocket. In his bath, the laird would be defenceless. She had only to catch him unawares and revenge would be hers.
Unfortunately, Ragnall was not alone.
She leaned closer. The laird’s voice, low and rumbling, was distinctive. Of the other two she wasn’t sure. The door was open but a crack.
It seemed prudent to listen.
She’d never witnessed her father’s private audiences with clan members, but it might be beneficial to understand the state of things within the Dalreagh clan. Away on the croft, they’d rarely heard of castle matters.
She caught only snatches but the discussion was heated.
“The cur seduced ma sister and now asks tae marry her!” declared the most churlish of the voices.
“And what is yer sister’s mind?” asked the laird.
“Like a fool, she loves him, but ’tis by the by, for the match was nae of ma choosing. ’Twas Domnall here who contracted tae marry the wench some six months past, and noo we find she’s quickening.”
“Aye!” The third, Domnall, spoke. “And makes ma blood hot tae think of her deflowered and carrying the bastard’s child. I seek yer blessing, laird, tae draw swords against him and take Mhairi tae wife.”
“And what of this child?” asked the laird again.
“The bairn can be raised tae tend the sheep and work with the rest. At least I ken Mhairi’s able tae bear childer. Once I’ve wedded her, there’ll be plenty more bairns tae offer comfort,” reasoned Domnall.
There was a pause.
Flora pressed her ear closer still. It wasn’t uncommon for such things to occur but she was interested to hear what the laird would say on the matter.
“A man’s honour isnae tae be trifled with,” mused the laird. “But nae more is a woman’s. If the lass loves him and he has the means tae support her, it may be wiser tae let her go, Finlay.”
There were murmurs of dissent before the room fell quiet again.
“If ye take her against her will, Domnall, she’ll resent ye for the rest of yer days. ’Tis nae a marriage I’d encourage.”
Flora found herself nodding. There were few women who had the privilege of marrying exactly where they pleased. Alliances were vital. Her own betrothals had been example enough of that—first to Calder and then to Ragnall. Her duty had been to obey her father, regardless of her personal feelings.
Nevertheless, the men seemed to be accepting the laird’s advice.
There was a scraping of chairs and Flora stepped back from the door just as it was pulled open. The two men looked her over briefly, then passed by, disappearing into the gloom of the passageway.
Within the room, a well-stoked fire danced bright flames in the hearth. Ragnall stood beside, dressed in a loose robe, belted at the waist, a great wolfhound at his feet.
“Ah, ’tis ye at last, Florrie.” Glancing up from his petting of the dog, he gave a weary smile. “And I’ve fond want, lass. Ye’d think men would have a care nae tae bring their disputes on the eve o' the festivities, but there’s nae rest for Murdo and I.”
