Red-faced, Fearghal spat and sputtered profanity as he struggled to free himself from his mother’s hold. Even Aileas realized her son had gone too far and was attempting to drag him from the room.
Trulie planted herself in front of Gray. He pushed around her.
“Stop.” Trulie rounded Gray again and flattened both hands against his chest. “Gray. Please don’t.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and set her aside as though she hadn’t said a word.
“Gray, you must stop. Now.” She pushed back into his arms and held his face between her hands. “Let it pass,” she pleaded, searching his eyes for the slightest flicker of reason. Rage simmered in their depths. Thirst for blood turned them an even colder blue. “You are better than them. Besides, I need to hear everything to gather information. I need to read the room—including them. Please.”
“I command respect in my hall. Nothing less.”
His jaw tensed beneath her hands. His muscles rippled with barely controlled rage. She swore she heard his clenched teeth crack with the pressure. Poor Gray. He just didn’t understand. She had been singled out and ostracized by the best of them because of her family’s strange ways. Fearghal and his mother were amateurs when it came to trying to make her feel uneasy.
“They don’t bother me,” she said, soothingly. With one hand still resting on his hard-muscled arm, Trulie turned away and focused on Fearghal and Aileas. Time to get a quick read of Mr. Personality and his mama.
Whore.Bits of muddled conversation colored with emotion raced through Trulie’s consciousness.Half brother. Unwanted stepmother. Murder. The whore’s tower. Jealousy. Loathing. Fear.All the dark energy emanating from the pathetic duo standing in front of her suddenly made complete sense—all except the odd reading of some sort of secrecy. One or both of them was definitely afraid of something being discovered. They weren’t afraid of physical harm. Trulie focused harder. They feared being found out. Perhaps about the murder? But which one was it, and was the murder the secret they didn’t want revealed? Bless her, she needed to read their minds, but she just couldn’t force herself to go there. As sloppy as these two were, surely, she could figure them out without having to wade through the nastiness of their inner selves.
She clicked off the facts in cold, analytical order. Gray’s mother was the chieftain’s leman, the favored mistress the old man had dearly loved. Aileas was the political marriage, the wife who loathed her unfeeling husband even more than she loathed herself. Trulie almost felt sorry for Aileas. Almost. The ballsy woman had as much as come out and called Trulie a slut in front of Gray’s clan. And then her son had actually done it.
And Fearghal—the man could hardly stand upright. He leaned heavily against his mother. His balding head bobbed up and down. His red-rimmed eyes insisted on slamming shut as he struggled to gain his balance. How could such a pitiful creature share a bloodline with Gray? She stepped closer and peered harder at Fearghal.
A sudden flood of emotions battered so hard against her that it knocked her a few steps back. Never had she felt such a wave of deep hatred. It had to be eating Fearghal and Aileas alive. But wait—she focused harder. The disturbing hum of hatred wasn’t coming from either Aileas or her son.
Aileas yanked the staggering Fearghal back toward the archway. The woman obviously feared her son was about to say too much. Trulie felt sure of it. Perhaps they would rise to properly tendered bait. Yes. She had to do it. Surely that would loosen their tongues and stir the strange hate enough that she could hone in on its source without having to visit the dark recesses of anyone’s mind.
Holding her breath against Aileas’s stench, Trulie closed the distance between herself and the scowling woman. Adrenaline pounded through her. Surely all present could hear the hammer of her heart echoing across the deathly silent hall. Jaw set, Trulie pointed a finger at Aileas’s heart. “Do not make the mistake of challenging me again. I know your secret and won’t hesitate to reveal it.”
Aileas flinched as though she had been struck. She plucked at Fearghal’s sleeve as though trying to position the drunken fool between herself and Trulie. Her thin lips opened and closed, but no sound came forth.
Spinning around, Trulie gave Aileas her back and took her time walking regally back to the front of the room. That ought to push the woman over the edge and loosen her tongue. Trulie smiled and arched a brow at Gray.
Gray’s expression was stone-cold hatred. He didn’t even blink. Trulie struggled to keep her smile from slipping. Gray’s rage and hatred troubled her. Such poisonous negativity always caused more harm to the bearer than the target. Aileas and Fearghal were not a threat. She had to make him see that.
Trulie glanced back over one shoulder at Aileas and Fearghal. Still no outburst from the pair?
Fearghal hitched to one side and Aileas’s jowls waggled as her scowl deepened.
Well, that hadn’t worked out as she had hoped.
A prickling sensation tingled up the back of Trulie’s neck, pulling her attention to the far side of the room. Two massive tapestries hung from the first level of supporting beams jutting out from the stone wall. She wasn’t sure, but she thought the vibrant scenes of successful hunts weren’t hanging flat against a stone wall. Trulie concentrated harder on the two wall coverings and saw them gently moving, as though stirred by something behind them. Shifting to one side, she ran her gaze along the floor beneath the tasseled ends of the weavings.Yes.The darkness running the width of both hangings indicated some sort of hidden alcove behind them.
The prickling sensation disappeared. Trulie shrugged away the disturbing feeling that she had just missed discovering something very important.
Fearghal shook the hall with another wet belch, one that sounded as though it had come dangerously close to emptying his stomach. Trulie shivered with disgust. She couldn’t handle the sound of puking. Time to end this happy little family gathering.
She walked over and smoothed a hand up the center of Gray’s chest. She needed to soothe her enraged Highlander before he did something he might regret. Speaking low so no one else could hear, she leaned close until the heat of his rage radiated against her. “Let her go, Gray. I don’t care what she calls me. She’s just a miserable old woman who can’t get over the fact that she has never been wanted.”
Low murmurings stirred through the crowd like the droning of angry bees.
Gray bared his teeth as though he were about to sprout a set of fangs and roar. With one glance to the back of the room, he shouted over one shoulder to his man-at-arms. “Colum, clear this hall. I can no longer stomach the stench of it.”
“I be glad Father lies dead,” Fearghal squeaked as a muscular guard slammed a large hand atop one of his shoulders and pulled him backward. “I be glad his whore lies dead too,” Fearghal said, choking and coughing as the guard cursed and wrapped a hand around his throat.
The chilling clatter of drawn steel echoed to the rafters.
“Fearghal, enough!” Aileas hissed as she shoved her wadded bit of linen deep into her son’s mouth. Then she bowed her head once in Gray’s direction and attempted a rough curtsy. “Forgive,” she croaked as she continuously bobbed up and down humbly as they backed their way out of the hall.
* * *
