Page 62 of Married to the Icy Highlander
Ceana didn’t give a damn if he exhausted himself out there on their stoop all day. She didn’t care if he banged on the door until his skin blistered from the sun. He had no right to make her mother look like that.
Ida sheepishly opened the door, yelping softly when Ferguson shoved it open the rest of the way, not giving a damn that someone had been behind it the whole time.
“Ceana!” he cried out, hurrying over and taking her hands in his own.
Ceana tried to pull away. She barely suppressed a shudder of revulsion as his greasy hands squeezed hers tightly, as if they were somehow old friends. As if she had magically forgotten that she hated him and that she had sworn to hate him for eternity.
“I came as soon as I heard ye were here.”
“I wish that ye hadnae.” Ceana winced as she tried to wrench her hands free.
Peter was helping Ida back up, checking her over, while his cat arched his back and hissed at Ferguson from where it stood on the table.
“I heard all of the terrible things that those men were sayin’ about yer stepdaughter. But dinnae fash, I made sure to correct them all. I told them that they owed ye more than gossip! I tried to find out who was spreadin’ such lies about yer family. Maybe if I kenned who was truly responsible for spreadin’ those rumors, I could have punished them before they caused ye more trouble.”
Ceana finally managed to wrench her hands free and hastily wiped them on her skirts. Up close like this, she could smell the whiskey on Ferguson’s breath. He was such a repugnant man.
“Aye,of courseye would.”
Ferguson’s lip twitched upward, a smirk that only she was allowed to see. “Surely ye dinnae think I had anything to do with this?”
“Aye, that’s exactly what I think.”
“Why, that’s a very serious accusation ye’re makin’, Ceana,” Ferguson drawled, his usual slimy, manipulative tone returning.
It would be so much easier to have these annoying conversations if she knew that he wasn’t going to pretend to be someone that he wasn’t.
“Leave us,” Ceana commanded the others in the room.
Ida turned toward her, her expression incredulous. “Ye cannae be serious.”
“Ye dinnae have to go far, but take Peter and give us the room,” Ceana insisted.
She waited until they all left the room, but at the very last moment, Myrtle leaped out of Peter’s arms and jumped back on the table next to her. It was a protective gesture that she had seen the cat do countless times for Peter, but never for herself.
Even the cat understood how dangerous it was to be left alone with this wretched man.
“What did ye do?” Ceana asked, her voice low and venomous.
She was painfully aware of the dagger she had strapped to her thigh, and she wasn’t afraid to use it if she needed to. She wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised if the bastard across from her attempted to do something untoward now that they were alone.
Her family would hear her if she screamed, she did not doubt that. But she wasn’t about to allow her fear of this man to stop her from doing what she needed to do.
Ferguson’s smirk only widened. “I did warn ye once that ye should ken better than to threaten me, Ceana.”
He leaned forward, grabbing her face so roughly that she couldn’t move away. His fingers were going to bruise her jaw. She wrapped her hands around his wrist and tried to push him away to no avail.
“This would have been so much easier if ye had just agreed to be mine when I asked for yer hand. I told ye that I would have ye one way or another, and I never lie.”
Ceana spat on him, as it was the only thing she could think of at that moment. It worked. She was on her feet in an instant, putting as much distance between them as possible. The cat jumped right in front of her and hissed at Ferguson.
“See, that’s the fire I will take immense pleasure in breaking out of ye.” Ferguson wiped her spit from his face and then licked it off his hands, making a perverse sound. Ceana’s stomach churned. She might actually be sick. “MacAngus’s men didnae need to tell me twice to turn those idiots against yer husband…”
His hand shot out, grabbed the edge of the table she had been using as a barrier between them, and flipped it out of the way. Everything that had been on it moments ago went flying across the room and shattered on the floor. He advanced toward her, and the cat hissed again, swiping at him menacingly. But that only deterred him for a moment before he grabbed her arm and swung his foot to move the cat out of the way.
But the cat was way faster. He scratched down Ferguson’s leg hard enough that Ceana could see blood seeping into his trousers.
Fear shot through her. She knew that she wasn’t going to be able to draw her dagger before he was upon her.
