“Come to pay their taxes?” Agnes screeched. “They slaughtered her family.” Agnes pointed at Catherine. “They defiled her aunt and cousins, and they’re coming for my family and me next.”
Catherine’s temper snapped. Propelled forward with a rage unlike any she’d felt since first learning of the women’s death, she drew back her hand. The slap she laid across Agnes’s cheek seemed to ring in her ears.
“Be grateful it was ma palm and nae ma fist, ye bitch.” Catherine didn’t notice her burr, and she wouldn’t have cared if she had. “Dinna ever use ma family’s loss to make ye the victim. And nay mon is coming within a hair’s breadth of ye unless it’s to grind yer teeth back like a horse ready to be put out to pasture. Gawp at me like a beached trout all ye want. I’ve heard enough men say they wouldnae fuck ye even if they were the ones getting paid, so ye can lay yer fears to rest that anyone will molest ye. Ye’d have to gouge their eyes out and fill their ears with dough before they’d even fondle ye. But ye can go fuck yerself.”
Catherine stood before Agnes, who’d gone deathly pale. Catherine cocked her eyebrow in a challenge far too many people in her clan would have recognized and warned anyone away.
“But—but—you—you…” Agnes stammered.
“Speak. Ye sound like a bluidy seal barking.” Catherine leaned forward until their faces were nearly touching. “Naught to say now? I give ye fair warning, Agnes Buchanan. Use ma family again to make yers sound better, to make someone pity yer worthless arse, and ye will find out that nay mon in ma clan has a temper worse than mine. I will challenge ye, and I will kill ye. Ye are a Highlander, but ye are without honor.”
“I didna mean ye any harm.” Agnes was so shaken that her own brogue came back. No one had ever heard the woman sound like the Highlander she was. “I meant them, those MacLarens. I—I shouldnae have mentioned yer family. Please dinna kill me.”
Catherine thought the woman might pish herself by the time she was through, but Catherine was certain she’d made her point to Agnes and the other women she’d caught whispering about the MacLarens and their attack on her family. In her mind, she defended Rab as much as she did her aunt and cousins’ memory, but she could never speak his name aloud. It made her even more cognizant of the divide between the two clans. Her belly ached as she thought about whether there really was any possibility that she and Rab could make a future together. Could she forsake the family she stood before Agnes defending to become part of the family that nearly destroyed hers? Could she live among the enemy, tolerate them, or feel safe with them?
Catherine backed away from Agnes and took her place between Sileas and Catriona once more. She remained silent for the remainder of the walk, relieved the queen hadn’t witnessed her vent her spleen. The group was subdued until they returned to the keep.
“Catherine,” Catriona whispered. She canted her head toward an alcove. The women held aside the tapestry and entered the small, recessed space. “If you hadn’t threatened to run her through, I’d have done it for you. I’m sorry you had to listen to that. I know it’s not the first time. I might not have insulted her quite so harshly, but I think—for what it’s worth—you did the right thing to take a stand. It won’t stop if you don’t.”
Catherine nodded as she fought against the tears that once more pricked her eyelids. When Catriona’s eyes darted to the tapestry and she shifted uncomfortably, Catherine’s tears seemed to flee, and trepidation took their place. “That wasn’t all you wished to say.”
“It’s not. Catherine, I found out my uncle sent a missive to Laird MacLaren to suggest Rab and I marry.”
Catherine felt as though the world around her warped and nothing was in focus. She knew Catriona and Rab had known one another since they were children. She couldn’t deny that the marriage benefited the MacLarens, though she couldn’t figure how it helped the Douglases, unless it was to antagonize the Campbells. It felt like a genuine possibility that she was talking to Rab’s future wife, and she wasn’t talking to herself.
“Catherine, I’ll never agree. That mon has loved ye since ye tossed him that apricot. He didna even notice I was with ye.” Catriona lapsed into her brogue as she remembered sneaking out of the orchard while Catherine spoke to Rab and Douglan watched. She’d seen the way Rab watched Catherine, a mixture of interest, bewilderment, and physical attraction. It hadn’t surprised Catriona to watch the pair become a couple who many thought might marry. “Ye’re ma friend, and so is Rab. I’d do aught that I can to help ye. I simply dinna ken what that is.”
“Thank ye. I dinna ken that there is aught that can be done. I willna lie and say it doesnae break ma heart. I’ve loved him for as long as I’ve kenned him. I canna help but think mayhap the Lord kenned I wasna meant to marry Laird Gunn. Mayhap He intervened, but I also dinna ken if He means for me to be with Rab.”
“I’ve seen how ye look at one another since he arrived. Wheest—” Catriona pulled Catherine into her embrace. “Nay one else has because they dinna ken what to watch for. But I’ve kenned ye both a long time. I remember how it was, how I think it still should be. But ye must be careful. If anyone realizes ye share feelings for one another, it will obliterate yer reputation. Worse yet, it may get Rab killed. It’s exactly the type of excuse, that he’s corrupting ye or seducing ye, that someone can use to challenge him. It willna be Óg, I dinna think. But a mon who’ll claim he wishes to court ye might.”
“I ken.” Catherine appreciated Catriona’s support, but she didn’t dare share her secrets with anyone. She refused to volunteer that she and Rab were courting, and she would never confess that they planned to marry. Despite being shaken by Agnes’s comments and mindful of Catriona’s cautioning, she found herself even more resolved than ever that they would marry. She returned Catriona’s embrace, then they slipped out of the alcove as cautiously as they entered. They returned to the other ladies who milled around the bailey.
* * *
Rab stood in the ring of MacLaren men as two of his guards trained against one another. From his position, he watched Catherine and Andrew as they walked together. He’d turned his attention back to his men until Cullen nudged him. He looked toward the gardens in time to watch Catherine stalk forward and swing her arm. He could imagine the force she used since the woman, who he recognized as Agnes Buchanan, swayed and took a half step back before covering her cheek with both hands.
“What do ye think she said?” Cullen whispered.
“Something aboot Aveline, Fia, and Greer. That’s the only thing that could make her react like that. I almost pity the foolish woman. She’s probably being challenged to single combat as we speak.”
Cullen glanced at Rab, then the men they stood among before looking back at the garden. “Ye ken we all wish things had worked out differently back then and now. Most of the clan believes if ye two had married like we all wanted, none of this would’ve happened. Ye may love one another, but yer marriage is what would’ve made people happy. It could’ve brought us peace.”
Rab stood in stunned silence. None of his men ever approached the subject of Catherine and him. He hadn’t realized anyone in the clan still thought about them as a potential match. He wondered what else people talked about, of which he was unaware.
“I overheard Óg talking earlier to the Keith mon he’s been chewing the fat with lately. He’s leaving in the morn for home.” Cullen turned toward Rab, so his voice didn’t carry. “Whatever Agnes said to Catherine isnae what she’ll tell Dennis. She will be the victim, and Dennis’ll seek his own sort of justice. The kind that involves hurting Catherine.”
“I ken. I already deduced as much. I have to speak to Óg.”
“Or ye can watch out for Catherine.”
“Ye ken I’ll do that anyway, but he needs to ken. In case aught happens that I canna prevent, he needs to ken that his men should be with her always.”
“When will ye talk to him?” Cullen turned to where the MacFarlanes trained. It was nearly across the lists, but both clans were aware of one another’s presence. Rab followed Cullen’s gaze and found Andrew looking back at him. He tilted his head toward the keep, then glanced back over his shoulder in Catherine’s direction. When he turned back at Andrew, he canted his head toward the keep again. Andrew’s chin jerked down before he said something to one of his men.
“I suppose now,” Rab answered. “Keep them occupied.”
Rab made his way out of the lists, returning his blunted training sword to the armorer. He walked toward the undercroft, hoping Andrew watched him and followed. Once he was in the shadows, he raised both hands like he had the first time he spoke to Catherine’s cousin. He didn’t want the man suspicious that Rab intended to stab him in the dark.
