"And if Munro makes good on his threat?" Malcolm's voice was cold. "If he hurts the younger sister tae force yer hand?"
The question struck harder than it should have. For a moment, Tòrr saw not Munro’s scheming face, but Liliane’s when she’d spoken of the lass, that fierce protectiveness in her eyes that had unsettled him more than any blade could.
"Then we prepare fer whatever comes," he said finally, his voice even. "Munro will move soon enough, but he’ll find we’re ready."
Michael frowned. "Ye dinnae think he’d truly harm his own blood?"
Tòrr’s jaw tightened. "A man who sells one daughter’s future wouldnae hesitate tae use another as a pawn."
Malcolm exhaled slowly. "So we wait?"
"Aye," Tòrr said. "Fer now, we wait and watch. Munro’s the kind who digs his own grave when he thinks nay one’s lookin’."
He turned away before they could read more in his expression, because the truth was already forming in his mind, dangerous and reckless.
If the lass truly was in danger, he’d find a way to get her out.
But not yet. Not here. Not where every word could start a war.
"The feud's already started." Tòrr's voice was flat. "This just determines whether we win or lose."
The council members exchanged uneasy glances.
"I want increased patrols," Tòrr commanded. "Double the guards on the keep. Nay one enters or leaves without me knowledge. If Munro sends guards tae try and take Liliane byforce, I want tae ken about it before his men get within sight of our walls."
"And the consummation?" Malcolm pressed. "What are yer intentions?"
"Dinnae continue tae ask me what is between me and me wife." Tòrr's tone brooked no argument. "Now get out. All of ye. I need tae think."
They filed out slowly, muttering among themselves. Tòrr stood alone in the council chamber, Munro's letter burning in his hand.
He had to figure out how to protect a wife who still wanted to leave him and a sister-in-law he'd never met. And somehow convince Liliane that staying was the only way to keep them both safe. Even if it meant finally claiming what had been his by law since the moment they spoke their vows.
In the meantime, he would not mention the letter to Liliane, for he feared it was the only way to make sure she didn’t do something foolish, although he hated keeping it from her.
CHAPTER TWENTY
"Are ye certain ye dinnae want me tae stay?"
Catherine lingered in the doorway of Liliane's bedroom, her eyes too knowing fer Liliane's comfort.
"I'm fine. Just tired." Liliane forced a smile.
"Aye, well," Catherine grinned, "The tension between ye and yer husband is thick enough tae cut with a dirk."
"There's nay tension."
"Tell that tae everyone else." Catherine moved toward the door.
"Catherine!"
She paused at the threshold. "Just... try nae tae kill each other before mornin', aye?"
After she left, Liliane moved quickly to the small cabinet where she'd hidden some pennyroyal she had slipped into he pocket when she had been in the healer’s room and had been caught by Tòrr. Her hands shook slightly as she prepared the tea, crushing the dried leaves and pouring hot water from the kettle over the hearth. The leaves would force her to have her monthly way of woman.
It was not that she didn't want to consummate her marriage to Tòrr. God knew how badly she did. But her conversation with him the night before had convinced her she had to get to Nessa as soon as possible, and being intimate with him might mess up her plans.
I ken ye said ye would help me get me sister. But I ken me faither. I cannae wait fer ye, Tòrr. Fergive me.
