Soon, Henry returned and took Rhea with him, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She was so lost in thought that it wasn’t until a cold hand came down on her wrist that she jolted.
She turned to see the seneschal, Gregor, standing beside her. She withdrew her hand and kept it at her side, watching him warily.
Gregor had an easy smile on his face and kind eyes, yet she couldn’t bring herself to trust him. From the moment they had met, she had always wondered why he was given so much power. He had a say in the running of the clan, its finances, and hiring. And while he acted humble, she couldn’t help but see the façade and wonder what lay beneath.
“Gregor,” she greeted with a forced smile. “How may I help ye?”
“I need nay help today, me Lady,” he answered with a small smile. “I want to offer ye some.”
“But I am nae in distress,” she retorted with a raised eyebrow.
His face softened with an understanding look, as though he thought she was only trying to hide her fear.
“I ken ye fear the arrival of the upstart, but daenae worry,” he said with a nod of his head. “The council and I will protect ye.”
Damn.
She had been thrust into clan politics, which she never wanted to play. She had been sheltered from it all by her father, but now it seemed she would have to learn the game or be scalded in the process.
“I—”
“Ye daenae need to be grateful yet, me Lady,” Gregor said, straightening. “Just take our gesture in good faith.”
The words were kind enough, but they left her with a sense of foreboding in her chest.
“Me Lady,” Henry called suddenly, startling her. “The Laird is asking for ye.”
So her turn had finally come.
Neither Avery nor Rhea had returned to the dining hall, and she wondered if they had been expressly warned against speaking with her before the Laird could.
Nonetheless, she squared her shoulders, not wanting to look intimidated. A few concerned servants watched her leave, and she gave them a reassuring smile. She would not allow this man to ruin the peace she had found in this clan, even if it was the last thing she did.
“I believe the options I have given ye are fair, Sorcha,” William said, drawing her gaze to him. “Ye could return home to yer family, or ye may leave and marry elsewhere. Either way, I want ye out of the castle by the week’s end. That should give ye ample time to pack yer belongings and make arrangements for yer travels.”
There were only four days till the week’s end, and he called it ample time? Who the bloody hell did he think he was?
Sorcha had allowed his rugged beauty to distract her when she had first stepped into his study and seen him in daylight, but his cold demeanor and condescension had quickly rid her of the thought.
There was nothing beautiful about a man who lacked courtesy and sympathy.
“How dare ye?” she spat.
“Pardon?”
“I said, how dare ye?” she reiterated. “How dare ye throw me so carelessly out of the clan when I am the widow of the previous Laird? Who do ye think ye are?” Her chest heaved as fury coursed through her.
His eyes darkened. “Do ye derive joy in holding onto the title of a dead bastard?” he spat with so much venom, but she didn’t shrink back. “I told ye that he stole what was rightfully mine, yet ye still cling to the falsehood of his rule.”
She bristled at the insult.
“I only mean to nae be dismissed so easily,” she said, squaring her shoulders and swallowing past the lump in her throat. “I am nae some inconvenience ye can carelessly toss aside. I am a person, and I have a right to be here, as much as ye do.”
“If there were any justice in the world, lass, ye wouldnae be here,” he sneered.
“But four days?” she asked incredulously. “Even if I consented to leave, ye would leave me with only four days to do so? ‘Tis nae possible.”
“Ye have maids and footmen at yer disposal,” he said coolly. “I believe ye can manage.”
