She gasped, shaking her head. “I have never met anyone as cruel as ye.”
“Then ye havenae been married to me uncle long enough to ken what cruelty looks like,” he shot back.
She felt her cheeks heat with mortification.
She had never been so rudely treated in her life, and the fact that this man could do so with ease had her chest burning with many words she wanted to say. But he didn’t give her room, for he spoke again.
“This isnae the place for ye if ye’re offended so easily. Ye think this place a home, but ye’re in a nest of snakes that would easily bite ye once ye’re deemed weak.”
His words stole the heat from her body.
She wondered briefly if it was concern that made him adamant to see her gone before he started whatever he had come here to do.
“I daenae need ye to defend me,” she said softly. “I can protect meself. It shouldnae be a concern of yers if?—”
“‘Tis nae a concern of mine,” he snapped. “It bothers me little whether or nae ye are hurt. I want ye gone, and I want it to happen quickly.”
Shock had her rearing back. How could she have forgotten so quickly that he was nothing more than a brash and uncouth man because of a few kind words?
“Ye’re a cad!” she cried.
“I wasnae unaware, lass.”
She huffed and stormed out of the study, making sure to slam the door hard. She moved with purpose, knowing that if she was going to secure her stay in the clan, she would need power and support. And what better place was there to source both than her people?
She let herself into the dining hall with all the rage she had exited the study with, drawing eyes as she moved to the center of the room.
“The new Laird must go!” she announced, looking every man and woman in the eye.
If she were to defend her right to remain, she needed as many people on her side as she could manage.
3
“How should we do it?” Rhea sat up straight.
The sisters shared a look of agreement and then turned to Sorcha with eager eyes.
Sorcha was struck mute by their easy acquiescence. Surely the Laird would have had enough decorum to at least, in the presence of such fresh faces, hide his meanness. Then again, he didn’t seem the sort of man who cared a farthing for anyone other than himself.
But then she remembered how he had generously given her the option to remarry or return to her clan. Any other man would not have bothered to ensure her well-being. He could have simply thrown her out into the streets.
She quickly interrupted that train of thought. She would not give him more thought than he deserved. He had wrongly thrown her out of her chambers the previous night and had been veryharsh toward her earlier. She would not sway for a few minor rectitudes she read too much into.
“We’re women, and there’s nae much we can do,” she mused out loud.
They waited, assuming her assessment would lead to a resolution. At her silence, they let out exasperated sighs.
Sorcha racked her brain, ashamed by their disappointment. She was no Machiavellian. She was a simple woman with genial habits, and the Laird was no pushover. He stood tall and proud, spoke with the rigor of a man who knew how much power he held.
She knew she was a speck compared to him, but she was confident nevertheless. Her complacency stemmed from an indisputable score over him. The whole clan was against him and, therefore, on her side.
Rhea perked up a few minutes later. “We could give him a right bother.”
Sorcha raised her eyebrows. “How do we frustrate a man out of power?”
Caelan had straddled the chair beside her. He sat wide-legged at an angle that faced the trio. He was as quiet as always, keeping his thoughts to himself. He regarded them with amusement,and Sorcha welcomed the respite from the concern that usually marred his face.
“We could disturb his stay? Give his sleep a rattle by being awfully loud at night—that’ll drive him out,” Rhea declared, glancing at Avery for approval.
