‘Tell yourself that if it helps.’
Peyton said nothing. He was being an abject hypocrite lecturing Lowri on decorum and good morals, and he knew it. ‘Just be careful around Donnan and Rory, is all I am asking.’
‘They don’t see me as a woman, Peyton, so do not fash.’
‘Aye, they do, as have others before. He was here, you know, menacing as usual.’
Lowri swallowed hard. ‘That is all in the past, a youthful folly, and you are so cruel to bring up Eaden.’
‘Aye. Forgive me, sister. I know you did no wrong apart from offering your heart to a villain. But you must learn your lesson. You must understand that you are a woman, so men will have designs on you.’
‘Well, I do not have designs on Donnan and Rory, and if either of them lays a finger on me, I will cut it off. I wouldn’t succumb like your Cecily MacCreadie.’
Peyton brushed off her barb. ‘So, you toy with their regard instead and lead them into danger. They try to look manly and brave in front of you to impress you, Lowri. You could lead them to their deaths, you little fool.’
‘Don’t name me the fool. Are you ashamed of me, Peyton? Am I such a disgrace that I might scare away the fine Cecily? If she is so faint-hearted as to be afraid of a little scandal, she is not worth the winning.’
He raked his hands through his hair in frustration. It was always like this with his stubborn little sister. ‘I am not trying to win her, Lowri. I am trying to stay alive,’ he snarled.
‘I know. Forgive me,’ she said, and her look of contrition turned her into the grubby little girl who once followed him around like a shadow, always looking up to him, always adoring. In a rush of tenderness, Peyton took Lowri in his arms and hugged her. Amazingly, she let him, for she had grown gruff and hard and seldom welcomed his affection.
‘Where did those cattle come from?’ he said.
She pushed him off. ‘Better you don’t know. But I was clever, and I was not spotted.’
‘I want you to go south right away and sell them. Then stay there with our cousin Fergus.’
‘That miserly old grub? Why?’
‘Because it is dangerous here.’
‘Peyton, I can help.’
‘You can take yourself off so that I have one less burden to carry.’
‘Burden, is it?’
‘Worry is what I meant. I cannot have anything happen to you, Lowri. Despite your many faults, you are dear to me. I am in this fight, but you are not.’
She stared into his eyes like she did when she was a wee lass. ‘We are blood, you and me,’ she said. ‘We stand or fall together. I will go south tomorrow and sell the cattle to ease your burden, and you may calm your ill temper by tupping that bonnie lass, for she is quite the sight and uncommonly lovely.’
‘There is no tupping, and don’t use that word.’
‘The nuns taught me that one,’ she said with a wicked grin as she rushed out of the hall, leaving havoc in her wake.
***
The pounding of her heart would not slow down, fired by a heady mix of outrage, fear and shame. Cecily felt she might die of it.
Marriage! To Peyton. She could not countenance it without a shudder. But it wasn’t revulsion. She shut her eyes and recalled the feel of his hands all over her, the commanding yet gentle slide of his mouth on hers. A throb of pleasure made her belly clench just at the memory. If she really thought he was awful, why did she let him touch her, lay her down and then take her innocence? There was no going back now. She had done that terrible thing with Peyton. Did that make him her master now? When he gave her one of his hot, longing looks, it turned her resolve to dust and made her heart leap. Then she crumbled and did whatever he wanted. So, aye, he was her master.
Cecily bit her lip. Oh, she was foolish and wanton, and it would all end badly. Peyton was only offering marriage to shut her up. It was not affection. It was a trap. She had to get back to Rowenna. She could not be a slave to her passions. That had already brought enough trouble for a lifetime.
‘Dreaming of Peyton?’
A striking, black-haired lass leant in the doorway. She was dressed like a man and a footpad at that. She had a dirty face yet possessed a rough kind of beauty. Her disapproving gaze suggested she had crawled inside Cecily’s head and read every lusty thought in there.
‘Who are you?’ said Cecily.
